Cousins don't need modesty (completed)

[EddieDavidson]

Archie called his older sisters over with a patronizing grin, slapping his thighs like he was calling over playful puppies. “C’mon, mutts! C’mon girls, girly-girly, here, pup-pup-puppy, wag your arses, like good girls, Move your fat little butts, c’mon girl,” he slapped his thighs repeatedly to summon them.

The girls grinned as they crawled over. “Best sister? That’s a tough call,” Archie muttered, sticking his finger in his mouth like he was deep in thought. “Betty’s lazy and disobedient—Mum’s gotta tell her to do things once, twice, three times, and then just gives up and does it herself ‘cause it’s less hassle.” He shot a glance at Veronica. “And you? You do the bare minimum and expect to be treated special like you deserve a treat just for not whinging about making your brother his tea.”

I noticed the shame ripple across their pretty faces, but neither of them denied a word of it. Archie reached out and patted Veronica’s head like she was a pet, not his sister.

“As a sister, you’re shite,” he said flatly. “But as a dog? You’re tits. You’ve been wiggling and jumping higher than Betty, and you’ve not been yapping as much without barking. But as a sister?” He grinned down at her. “You’re a proper cunt, though.”

“I’m not disobedient! Archie!” Betty’s voice wavered, sounding genuinely hurt.

“You just spoke without barking and didn’t call me Mister Archie!” her brother shot back, his voice filled with disbelief at Betty’s audacity. He moved to slap his sister’s bare butt cheek, and she flinched. “I’m not gonna slap your bum—you’d enjoy that too much.” He stepped closer, pointing to the ground. “Nose to the grass, mutt. Keep it there ‘til you remember how to behave—and how to address your betters!”

Betty’s face flushed, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she let out a soft bark, lowering herself to the ground, her nose pressing into the grass. “Woof…” she muttered, her voice muffled with a hint of defiance. After a beat, she added, “I’ll remember, Mister Archie,” her tone dripping with bratty sarcasm, even as she wiggled her hips in mock submission.

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“Woof, I am the better puppy!” Veronica preened, her voice dripping with triumph as she wiggled her hips like she’d won some grand prize. “I am a good girl! Rub my tummy, please, Mister Dalton!” she rolled and luxuriated in the grass, offering me a chance to rub her cute little bare belly.

I hadn’t expected the girls to actually enjoy this humiliating game of crawling around like pups, but somehow, they did. It was strangely arousing to me that they were so into it. Betty wasn’t far behind, competing for my attention!

“Yeah, good puppies, maybe, but good girls? That remains to be seen, but you ARE both still horny tarts who would rather finger bang yourselves than lift a finger to do anything to help Mum or me,” Archie said.

I grew more nervous because the neighbor was standing on the other side of the fence in his yard, and he could clearly see the girls—Betty with her ass up and face buried in the grass and Veronica following Archie like a yapping dog.

“There is a guy on the other side of the fence watching,” I whispered to Archie. I kept playing with the girls, teasing them, and luxuriating. If they saw the neighbor, they clearly didn’t care that he was watching us.

“Aye, he’s always out here around this time of day,” Archie waved to the neighbor. “Girls, bark at Mr. Johnson!”

Betty and Veronica turned to face him while on all fours and barked playfully. They were clearly unconcerned about the older man.

“This is an unusual game, even for you,” Mister Johnson said dryly. It was good to hear another American for once—I was starting to pick up my cousins’ British accents without even realizing it. “What happened to making mud pies?”

“Go on, tell him, Betty,” Archie said, giving his sister a light kick to her butt.

“We’re not playing in the mud today, Mister Johnson. This is my cousin, Mister Dalton. He’s babysitting us. We got in a bit of trouble earlier, so now we’ve got to be puppies,” she replied sweetly.

“You? Get in trouble? That never happens,” Mister Johnson shot back with playful sarcasm. Then he chuckled. “Well, at least he didn’t make you cut a switch from the tree out back. It must not have been that bad. What’d you do this time?” he asked from the other side of the fence. It was obvious he was used to the girls being disciplined, but judging from the smile on his face, he either found it amusing or didn’t take their rule-breaking very seriously.

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Betty seemed dumbfounded by the question. “I don’t know. We’ve done a few naughty things today. Mister Dalton, this IS a punishment, right?”

I crossed my arms, letting her squirm for a second before answering. “The puppy bit?” I shrugged, glancing toward Mister Johnson with a faint smirk. “Not really. That was just to humble them after they threw a fit about how they had to eat, but as you can see, they are having a lot of fun with it, so it didn’t quite pan out as I thought.”

“The girls aren’t bashful,” Mr. Johnson agreed with a smile. He offered his hand over the fence, and I ran over to shake it.

I told him, “The toothbrushes, though? tell Mr. Johnson why those are in your backdoor, Betty!"

I assumed that confessing to what they had done might make them feel a little regret and shame.

Betty’s eyes widened; her face turned bright red. She glanced at Veronica, clearly hoping for some kind of rescue, but none was coming. After a long, tense pause, “We got caught playing with ourselves in the bathroom with the toothbrushes when we should have been going pooh,” she admitted sheepishly.

Betty sounded like someone admitting they were late for class, instead of admitting to something deeply perverted.

Betty sounded like she was admitting to being late for class, not like she was owning up to something deeply perverted. Her voice was casual, almost indifferent, as if shoving toothbrushes up her ass was just another part of the day. Mr. Johnson wasn’t shocked even when her brother explained that one of those brushes was his, and the other belonged to his mom.

“You two seem like you’re always in trouble for something. Usually, your mom gives you quick a spanking. Do you like this better?” Mr. Johnson’s smile suggested he didn’t think it was a very serious punishment and that the girls got themselves in trouble for a thrill.

“Honestly, I have forgotten it’s up my arse, and I don’t mind it a bit,” Betty admitted. However, she didn’t brag. She whispered the words—either embarrassed for feeling that way or worried I’d give her a stiffer punishment since this one was ineffective.

“Louder, Betty,” I said flatly. “Mister Johnson can’t hear you.”

She swallowed hard, and her voice trembled with humiliation as she nearly shouted. “I don’t mind it much; I barely feel it, Mr. Johnson.”
Archie chuckled darkly, shaking his head. Archie barked a laugh, shaking his head. “Of course you don’t, Betts. Only filthy little slags like you enjoy having toothbrushes shoved up your arse.” He turned to Veronica with a sneer. “You’re no better, Ronnie. Both of you love the feeling, don’t you? Proper naughty girls getting their jollies from it.”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping but still loud enough for Mister Johnson to hear. “So, what is it then? Do you mind it—or are you getting your jollies from it?”

Betty’s face turned another shade of red, as she flashed her pretty angelic blue eyes at us. “I got off on it in the bath when I was having a wank, but now I don’t notice it much,” she said.

Archie wasn’t letting Veronica off the hook. He demanded she answer too. I watched her shift uncomfortably, her eyes flicking up to Mister Johnson like she was nervous to speak—which was odd, given how much of an extrovert she usually was. “No need to for modesty, Veronica. You are just a dirty girl that likes to play with her bum. No one expects you not to get a thrill from it. We can all see that snail trail dripping from your fanny,” Archie sneered. “I just want to hear you admit it out loud.”

Veronica’s face turned bright red, her eyes darting between Archie and Mister Johnson like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. She shifted on her hands and knees, the toothbrush in her bum wobbling with the movement.

After a long, tense pause, she finally whispered, “You’re right, Mister Archie…” Her voice trembled, but she forced herself to keep going. “Girls like me don’t need modesty. I… I do like it.” She let out a shaky breath, then added with a soft, reluctant bark, “Woof.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” I thought to myself. If I were out in my own backyard, naked in the grass, prancing around like a dog, shaking my butt and getting grass itch, while my sister and neighbor laughed at me, I’d die of mortification.

If I was asked why I had a toothbrush up my ass, and I had to confess I was caught masturbating and this was my punishment, I’d be resurrected just to come back as a humiliation zombie, wandering the earth in search of any scrap of my long lost self-respect and dignity.

And if my sister pointed out that my involuntary hard-on was proof that I was secretly enjoying it, forcing me to admit I got off on the whole thing? I’d probably boil in the oil of my own humiliation and evaporate into an embarrassed gaseous form, blowing away into nothingness.

“As long as you’re having fun,” Mister Johnson said like there was nothing wrong with enjoying yourself. He mentioned he used to have a dog years ago and offered to grab some old leashes and collars from his shed. “Might even have some stale dog treats and an old plastic dog bowl—though it’s a bit moldy. Do you guys want to play with them?”

Betty let out a giggle, wagging her hips as she crawled closer to the fence. “Yes, Mister Johnson! I’d love a collar!” she barked playfully, her face flushed but grinning wide. “I’ve been a very good puppy today. Woof! Oh wait, I guess it’s up to Mister Dalton and Mister Archie?”

“MISTER Archie, you got a promotion, did you Arch?” Mr. Johnson asked with a twinkle in his eye and a laugh on his lips.
“I am helping my cousin babysit these two because they are a handful,” Archie smirked and left out the part that he was being babysat as well. “When he is not here, I may bring these two outside to do the rounds as puppies, work a little fat off their bottoms.”

He shot a glance at his sisters to see their reaction, his grin widening. “Girls need attitude checks now and again, and they’ve clearly not been getting them enough because mum’s so busy all the time. They immediately tried to manipulate Mister Dalton into letting them get away with bloody murder.”

I hadn’t actually intended for him to be the boss when I wasn’t home. The girls had misconstrued my earlier instructions and I leaned into it.

Veronica shot Archie a quick glance, her cheeks pink but her tone even. “Mum never said that you are the boss of all the time, Mister Archie.” She followed it with a reluctant bark, knowing full well the rules weren’t changing anytime soon. Betty pouted and nodded her head in agreement with her sister.

“Do you want me to ask Mum if I can make you go outside to put on a puppy show?” Archie asked confidentially, almost like a threat, because he suspected she'd be fine with it. I could imagine him deciding it would be the only game from now on.

“Or, would you rather just bark and prance when I tell you dizzy tarts to get down on all fours and crawl about with your piss flappers hanging out?” He shot them a smug look. “You lot usually let me pick the games anyway… so what’s it matter to you if we’re playing mud pie bakery, pin the tail on the tart, quim-quake races, fanny flop relay, arse-slap tag, swatch your fanny, or the Cruft’s Kennel Show for Munters and bitches?”

Those names sounded like some pretty intriguing games my cousins had come up with. A few of them sounded even more humiliating than prancing around naked like a puppy girl in the backyard.

“Wait, can we put on a PROPER Crufts kennel show?” Betty didn’t give a yes or no response. She barked excitedly at her sister, and Veronica barked in agreement.

“I think we can manage that,” Archie grinned earnestly. I quickly learned that Crufts was considered the quintessential dog show by people in England – far superior to the Westminster Kennel dog show.

The girls were fully into it now, crawling through the grass with their toothbrushes bobbing like wagging tails, barking and laughing like they’d forgotten how ridiculous they looked. Their hair was a mess, sweat glistening on their bare backs, and their tits bounced wildly with every quick movement. But they didn’t care anymore—not one bit.

When Mr. Johnson returned, he handed over some worn old leashes. You might have thought he was giving the girls golden treasure. They fawned over them and even bickered and squabbled over the nicer of the two leashes and collars. “Only too happy to help,” the older pervert smiled. I could tell from his expression that his mind was as blown as mine that these cute young girls were outside naked bent over and spread like this.

He suggested we get some cookies we could use as dog treats for the girls and rub their bellies when they are good puppies. The girls echoed his sentiments.

“Oh, can we, Mister Dalton? Pretty, pretty, please with sugar on top?” Betty preened.

“With a cherry on top of that sugar, and squirty cream for good measured,” Veronica added eagerly.

“It might ruin your dinner; remember, you’ve earned yourself some hot slices of sausage pizza!”
I looked at Archie to see if they even had cookies.“

The girls were already protesting, when Archie offered a compromise. “Cookies for girls? What’s next? You’ll want to have your own bed? A television in your room? I might be able to spare a few digestives if you are well-behaved minges! But you’ll have to earn every bite!”

The girls readily agreed and begged Mr. Johnson to watch. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” he laughed. “The only thing on TV right now is Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, and I think I’d rather watch you pups be put through your paces.”

Archie disappeared into the house while the girls crawled back toward me, their breathing heavy but still giggling, their faces flushed from the heat and the absurdity of it all. Veronica tried to sit back on her heels, but the toothbrush in her ass made her wince and shift awkwardly. Betty wagged her hips, her collar snug against her neck, looking up at me with wide, eager eyes.

“On your backs, mutts! Let me see those pink bellies,” I smiled, and the girls dropped immediately onto the grass, with no modesty whatsoever, spreading their legs and offering me their tummies. I knelt down and rubbed their bellies.

“They are showing you a pink SOMETHING!” Mr. Johnson stood over us, looking down from his fence.

“Mr. Johnson seems more interested in your wet slits than he does your tummies, spread your legs a bit more,” I pulled Veronica’s legs apart to expose her further “So he can have a better view of your wet twat!”

Veronica blushed as I pet her head and focused on rubbing her sister’s tummy so that the neighbor could have an uninterrupted view of my cousin’s girly parts.

“Which one of them has the prettier pussy?” I asked boldly. My voice almost cracked when I heard myself ask a total stranger something so crass.

“It’s hard to say, they are both so pretty,” Mr. Johnson remained diplomatic and evasive. I wanted him to rank the girls because my theory was that they thrived on that.

“Betty, give him a better view so our neighbor can make a more informed opinion,” I spun Betty slightly, but she didn’t fight it or flinch when I spread her legs apart. I did something I might have considered unthinkable without first getting explicit permission before I began babysitting my cousins.

I reached between their legs and rubbed the nubs of their clits, the same way that I had caressed their bellies. “Let’s see which of these two mutts can get the most wet the quickest,” I stroked the two of them, and they both bit their lips while writhing with pleasure, as their faces turned red. “You have to have something objective to grade the two of them on.”

“In that case, I’d say Betty is the juiciest peach,” Mr. Johnson decided – Betty opened her mouth and was about to thank him politely. I grabbed her tongue and reminded her that she was a dog who could only speak in barks.

“The widest cunnie award has to go to Betty,” I fingered her pussy around the edges, and pulled it open. “Give Mr. Johnson a better view of your pink hams, he is letting you play with his dog collars, after all!”

“Y’all can keep those,” the older man smiled, and generously offered to let my cousins keep the leashes and collars he provided.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Sure, I’ve got no use for them any longer. I won’t be getting any more dogs soon, and this is far more entertaining than I’ve seen in a long while,” he assured me. I thanked him and prompted the girls to thank their neighbor.

They were surprisingly courteous, considering the leashes would be used to treat them like dogs in their own backyard. “Thank you, Mister Johnson!” they cooed. “That’s quite considerate of you!”

My cousin returned with a package of McVitie’s Digestives. They looked like cookies to me, but my cousins called them biscuits, and the girls acted like they were some kind of rare delicacy. I tried one—it was mildly sweet, slightly salty, almost like someone had forced a cookie to mate with a Saltine cracker.

“Oi, don’t wank them off, we’ll never get a proper show if you give these slags too much of a thrill,” Archie scoffed, waving the biscuits just above their noses. The girls’ eyes locked onto them instantly, their faces dripping with desperate, decadent desire for them.

“Ooh, proper digestives?” they considered themselves lucky!

It probably helped things that they were creaming all over my finger when he gave them a preview of the treats.

My idea of biscuits was the soft, buttery kind made fresh in the South. But if these worked to keep my cousins motivated, that was all that mattered. I kept glancing toward the front yard, watching the driveway from the backyard, wondering when the pizza guy was finally going to get there.

“Let’s have a competition then and see how well-trained and obedient you really are,” Archie snapped his fingers until the girls were up on their knees, looking up at him. He held up halves of the digestive cracker, and the girls waited – begging eagerly.

“No whinging,” he lowered the biscuits, and when the girls snapped eagerly to get them, he teased his sisters by yanking them away. “Balance it on your nose like a proper circus dog, and you can taste,” he assured them.

My cousins behaved themselves long enough for him to place the cookies on their noses and balance them.

“Damn, I wish I had a camera for this,” Mr. Johnson crowed from the other side of the fence.

“Do you want to come over to our yard to get a proper view?” Archie offered.

“I couldn’t, I am supposed to be out here trimming hedges,” Mr. Johnson alluded to his wife finding out what he was doing.

“Seems to me you are out here almost every night, the hedges should be fairly well groomed by now,” Archie grinned impishly.

“You can be a helpful judge for our show,” I offered. Mr. Johnson obliged us and started over to my Aunt’s backyard. My cousins struggled to balance the cookie, and we overlooked it when they fell a little and gave them a second chance as long as they stuck their upturned noses in the air and tried to balance the biscuit.

Archie made the girls put in some effort just to earn a half of a biscuit balancing it on their noses.

“Who did it the best, Woof?” Veronica asked as she chewed her digestive. I was instinctively going to pick one of them because I felt that incremental praise made them more competitive. If I praise one, the other tries harder. I was about to learn that sometimes the both dig their heels in and work together to prove themselves even harder when they both get knocked down a peg.

“You narcissistic brown noser, that’s just the warm-up,” waving her off like she was getting ahead of herself. I knew he meant she was sucking up, but the fact that Veronica literally had a smudge of brown on her nose from balancing the biscuit made it all the funnier. Watching her ego deflate was almost as satisfying as seeing her on all fours.

Betty held her tummy and began giggling when Archie teased Veronica.

“What are you nattering on about? Finally saw your stretched out, sweaty, poop maker in the mirror did you? Archie sneered, turning on Betty. “Next time we’re making’ mud pies, maybe I won’t bother hosing you filthy slags down and making’ you scrabble in the dirt to pack some pies, Maybe I’ll just have you spread that great big shite hole of yours and squeeze out a cow-sized mud pie straight from your arse!”

“It’s not that stretched out is it?” Betty pouted, and spun around on her knees, spreading her cheeks so that Mr. Johnson and I could be a second opinion.

“If you think your ass is such a treasure to behold,” I reached down between her legs, pulled the brush out with a pop out of her tight asshole and asked her if she thought she’d like to sniff it. “No? it’s just a girl’s dirty fart hole – not some work of art!”

I pushed the brush back up her ass and noticed her face – it was a mixture of deep shame; humiliation and I’d say pleasure. She looked like she might cry from teasing, but her pussy started quivering and she backed up into the brush.

“Sorry, what did I miss?” Mr. Johnson stood over the girls, hands on his hips and looked down.

Archie wasted no time. “Go on then, Veronica. Tell Mister Johnson what you just asked me.” His tone was sharp, expectant, like he already knew dragging it out would make it worse.

Veronica’s face was still burning, her eyes darting to the ground as if looking anywhere else might make this easier. The cute little brunette swallowed, her voice small but clear. “I—I asked if my arse was stretched out…” she admitted, her breath shaky.

Archie wasn’t satisfied. “And?” he pressed her to humiliate herself further by restating the question AND the answer to the neighbor, folding his arms.

She hesitated, then squeezed her eyes shut for a second like she could block out the moment. “…And I learned it’s just a dirty fart hole, not some work of art,” she finally mumbled, her entire body tense with shame.

Betty let out a giggle, but Archie silenced her with a look before turning back to Mister Johnson. “One day you will be able to take an entire cock up that arse and not think twice about it!”

“I’m not a virgin, Archie. I mean Mister Archie,” Veronica pouted, blushing, nose up in the air, indignant over his patronizing.

“How many times have you taken it up the bum, then?” Archie asked. He reached up and fiddled with his sister’s toothbrush, pushing it in and out slowly – without popping the bristles all the way out.

“I’ve not kept a proper count, Mister Archie, Oooh, no, oooh, no….” his big sister kept her ass extended and allowed him to play with her butt, while trying in vain to resist the urge to react to the sensations of being humped with the brush.

“Bark like a dog, and stop your mewling,” he smacked her bum.

“Arf, I’d bark a lot louder, if you give me a couple more pops like that, oh my! Archie! You are making me randy! I can’t take it,” Veronica surrendered her dignity and let him push the brush in and out at a medium pace. “Mister Archie! You’ve never been this bold before…ooooh! Don’t stop now,” she begged as Archie removed his hand and shook it like he was trying to fling her pussy squirting off of it.

Bloody hell, Veronica, I was just seeing’ if you could handle it, not tryin’ to make you whimper like a bitch in heat,” he scolded his sister. “I didn’t mean to boil over your kettle, I just wanted to see how you’d react!”

I could feel Veronica’s humiliation wafting over her. I imagined how I’d react in her situation, naked while my sister pulled my dick in front of my neighbor. I could picture Janis saying, “I wasn’t trying to jerk you off so you could cum; I just wanted to see how you’d react to being teased.”

I could imagine my big sister laughing at me as I lustfully squirmed around in the grass like Veronica. I definitely wouldn’t be as sexy and raw as my raven-haired cousin looked while she did it.

The frustration on Veronica’s face was so palpable. I could tell she wanted Archie to continue even though he was her brother. She was aching to have some sexual release after being teased, spanked and prevented from masturbating. My cousin had been willing to be masturbated in the yard by her brother while the neighbor and I watched her cream herself - just to get off and desperately needed some relief. Stopping mid-stroke with the brush must have felt brutal. Archie and Veronica may not have realized it, but making her get hot and excited, anticipating an orgasm and then abruptly denying it was a punishment!

"I may allow you to play with yourselves after dinner," I started to say, but I was cut off by Betty and Veronica cheering eagerly. Their faces lit up with excitement, and they wiggled their asses, jiggled their tits, and barked playfully. "I am not heartless," I waited for the girls to stop their adulation, their eyes sparkling and hands still moving in small, celebratory gestures. "But you have to behave perfectly like good girls and good puppies. If Mister Archie and I think you both deserve a little time to play with yourselves, then you can have at it."

"Caw, Mister Archie will never go for that," Betty immediately lost hope. "He's a real meanie butt! He’d love to watch us get frustrated after jumping through his hoops!”

"First, you aren’t allowed to flick your beans, so Mum would probably not be happy that Mr. Dalton is willing to spoil you. Second, what else do you have to do besides jump through hoops? The alternative is being frustrated, and I’d still have a proper laugh at your hairy muffs squirting all over the place… so you should be thanking me, not calling me names! You’ve got nothing better going on, and I’m going to enjoy it one way or another, so you might as well give it your all, sis!"

“Then let’s have a contest,” I decided. “We might have time for some short contests for best in breed, before the Pizza gets here. We’ll judge you on who is the cutest puppy, most obedient, best at tricks. If we can’t get done before the pizza arrives, we’ll pause the game and come back outside and finish!”

“A proper contest?” Veronica and Betty were astonished. I could tell that they weren’t used to getting this much attention. I was speaking their language by offering them a chance to compete with one another, and the reward of being able to masturbate was obviously a good motivator.

“Wait, only one of us gets to play with ourselves if we win?” Betty asked me.

I hadn’t thought much about the contest, what they would be judged upon, much less prizes. I was playing it all by ear. “You both get to play with yourselves later if you’ve been good girls and not done anything naughty. You’ll earn that as a team. If Veronica dashes off to finger herself or sasses, then you both lose that privilege.”

I was shocked that the girls didn’t like that idea – they wanted there to be a clear winner. “I want you to work together and keep each other in line,” I shrugged.

“They’ll just lie for one another and cover up each other’s naughty deeds,” Archie scoffed at my suggestion.

"There will be one overall winner of the best puppy contest… I'll grant the winner of each of the short competitive heats a digestive, but you have to balance it on your nose for thirty seconds to eat it. Archie and I will decide the overall winner and give her a prize."

"What is it? What is it?" the girls hopped on their knees excitedly, cute little tits jiggling, tight pretty asses wiggling, all smiles and bright blue eyes.

I was stalling because I hadn’t thought up what the prize should be. I looked at Archie for a suggestion, but he either didn’t take the hint or didn’t have one.

“Why doesn’t the loser of the contest make a Best in Show ribbon for the winner?” Mister Johnson suggested in his slow, southern accent. The excited squeal of the girls told me he was on to something. “It could be worn in their hair and has to read ‘BEST PUPPY OF ALL TIME’!”

"Brilliant, absolutely brilliant! I love that idea! A proper ‘Best Puppy of All Time’ ribbon—big, red, and with tassels! Veronica, you’d better be ready to make it perfect.” She shot a smug grin at her sister, already picturing herself wearing it – matching her new authentic pink dog collar, complete with smaller ribbons as tassels.

“Yes, and the worst sister can wear a flag that I design, hanging out of her ass crack off my toothbrush that reads ‘I knicked Archie’s toothbrush, and he shoved it up my bum to remind me that I am a horny git!”

“You can’t expect us to be bloody saints, Mister Archie. We are doing our best, but we ARE girls after all,” Veronica and Betty clearly believed as their mother did, that girls don’t have any use for modesty, and they have different expectations from guys.

I’d been raised to believe in the equality of the sexes, but I’ve always known that traditional gender roles existed, and my father was the head of the household. My brother and I do the lion share of the lawn work, and here the girls do it. It was just different.

Veronica’s wicked little grin told me that she also wasn’t going to try to be a perfect angel – even if she had the self-control to behave herself. It was as if she felt because she was born a girl, she may as well accept that she was going to be a horny little twat at times.

“We ought to put muzzles on you,” I said, suggesting that if they weren’t going to bark, the constant chatter was preventing us from starting the contest. That got their attention.

“Now that’s an idea I can get behind,” Archie laughed while I called the girls over to the patio behind the house.

“Here pups, come here girls!” I patronized them as I slapped my thighs and called them over to where I wanted to hold the first contest.

They shuffled forward on all fours, their knees scraping against the rough concrete. Betty was the first to sit back, resting on her haunches like a little lapdog, her hands pressed flat against her thighs.

“Good girls,” I murmured, holding the biscuits just out of reach. “Now, heads up.”

Betty craned her neck, a wide grin spreading across her face. I placed the Digestive on her nose, making sure it balanced perfectly right at the tip. Veronica tried to look unimpressed, but the blush creeping up her neck gave her away. I placed half a digestive biscuit on their upturned noses and told them to hold it while I explained the rules of the first game.

The girls’ eyes crossed slightly as they tried to focus on the biscuits. Betty’s cookie was wobbling dangerously, but she bit her lip to keep from laughing. Veronica looked like she wanted to say something, but she knew better.

“Pizza, biscuits, free time to play with themselves? You are spoiling my sisters, Mister Dalton!” Archie complained, asking “What’s next? girls drinking tea, maybe having a scone? Dogs playing poker?”

I instantly imagined Doctor Zaius lecturing Charlton Heston about the sheer absurdity of letting humans wear clothes and roam free, just like in Planet of the Apes.

“Pizza, biscuits, free time to play like puppies? You’re spoiling my sisters, Mister Dalton!” Archie complained, throwing up his hands. “What’s next, letting ‘em drink tea?”

I blinked at him. I was trying to understand if Archie was being facetious or if he really thought it was absurd for girls to have something as simple as tea. My mom loved a nice warm cup of tea. “Tea? It’s not like teabags are expensive. Why the hell can’t they have tea?”

Betty and Veronica burst into giggles; as if I’d just suggested they dine on steak and lobster every night instead of a basic cup of tea. The idea of having tea was about as absurd as having wine with dinner was to me.

Archie scoffed, shaking his head. “You don’t get it, mate. Ain’t about cost.” He gestured toward the girls, who were still grinning like I’d lost my mind. “They’re just girls. It’s not like they’d even know how to enjoy it proper. Why not invite actual dogs to a tea party? At least actual dogs would pant and bark, maybe even lick our hands like loving mutts.”

[[[ image 05_cookie.jpg goes here centered ]]]

“Arf,” my cousins panted playfully. They weren’t arguing with him. I doubted my sister or mother would be such good sports about being humiliated – in fact, I doubted most women would be. My cousins had obviously been raised this way, though.

He gave them both a pointed look and then explained to me, “Privileges like tea and scones? That’s for blokes! Girls don’t need it! They want it, and more importantly, they don’t deserve it! So, they shouldn’t have it. It’s just unnecessary indulgence.”

“Is your Mom allowed to have tea?” I asked. I wasn’t sure why I cared about this. It was a minor detail, but it seemed so odd that I was curious.

Archie scoffed, shaking his head. “Is our mum allowed to have tea?” he repeated as if the question was ridiculous. “Who is she gonna ask permission from? Me? I am not the boss of my mum. It’s her money—but even she knows it’s wasteful to let girls have tea.”

He smirked, then added, “It’s like asking a fat cow why she won’t put down the pork pies, pasties, and scones. If no one’s taking them away and keeping fatties in line, of course, they're gonna keep stuffing their face. Women don’t have the same self-control that men do. It’s the same with women and privilege—you give ‘em a taste, they’ll never stop wanting, and once they have what they want, they won’t want it anymore – they’ll want something else.”

The girls stoically maintained the balance of half a digestive while trying not to crack a smile while Archie talked about the nature of women.

“Amen, to that,” Mr. Johnson said his ex-wife left him, took half of everything he ever earned, and said she couldn’t be tied down any longer. Then she fucked her way through half of his friends, before marrying his brother and being tied down. “He’s my twin, and now I pay him and my ex-wife rent!”

“You are a twin?” Betty was excited to know that their neighbor was one as well.

“Yep, unlike you two pretty little things—one a blonde Jeannie, like I Dream of Jeannie, and the other her evil twin sister, the brunette,” Mr. Johnson admired the girls. I made them hold them hands up in front of their little tits like pups begging for a treat while the balanced the cookies. I decided this would be the first challenge.

Veronica scoffed, while her cookie wobbled as she complied with her new position. “Why must I be the nasty one? Betty’s the evil one!”

Betty grinned, not missing a beat. “Oh yeah? At least I’m not the one nicking tea without asking.”

Veronica huffed, tilting her chin up. “It’s better than letting it go to waste. I was just curious what it tasted like, I know it’s not for girls.”

“The forbidden fruit,” Mr. Johnson chuckled playfully. He clearly didn’t see any harm in being curious and found the girls to be charming – at least, that’s how I read his expression.

Betty scoffed, still balancing half a Digestive on her nose. “It’s just tea. Who bloody cares about it anyway? It’s not FOR us.”

Veronica kept her posture straight, trying not to crack a smile as Archie carried on. “Waste not want not, when Archie doesn’t finish his, I’ll gulp it down cold. It’s not bad with milk.” She shrugged. “I’ll have proper tea served hot, when I am older and start my own family.”

Archie let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “That’s just it, though. You lot don’t care about tea—until you’re told you can’t have it. That’s how women are. You hear ‘no,’ and suddenly it’s the only thing you can think about.” He flicked a glance at Veronica. “Your tits and curly minge hairs are just now starting to come in; you’ve got a long time before you’ll be drinking proper tea! And only if you find a husband too weak to put you in your place, cause he’s too soft to tell you no.”

“That’s the best kind,” the girls giggled playfully – their cookies almost falling off in the process.

I assumed Archie thought that I was soft – but I was simply trying to motivate the girls. I could care less if they had tea or not. It was fun watching the two of them struggle to balance the cookies while Archie berated them though.

“Who said you could have my cast-off tea anyway?” Archie asked sternly. “What next, nicking my plate after I eat? Gonna start licking my boots when I take ‘em off too?”

The idea of the girls licking his boots like it was some kind of privilege was almost too funny to me. The joke must have gone right over their heads—unless, of course, he was completely serious about that too. I couldn’t imagine just blasting my sister and teasing her like she was a dumb bimbo like this – it had to be incredibly humiliating, but the girls kept right on smiling and balancing for us.

They looked excited to compete and have our attention – like cheerleaders performing a show. They had to have an audience, or it was just practice.

Veronica rolled her eyes but kept her voice even. “You are not the boss of us, Mister Archie- at least not on any other nights. Usually, you never say a word about what we do. Not sure why you’ve got a bugaboo about it all of a sudden, Mister Archie.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why you care so passionately about leftover tea—it’s just going down the drain anyway. Can I at least ask if you mind if I have what you don’t finish?”

“Hold on—what about me?” Betty piped up that she wanted a chance at the tea as well.

Veronica arched a brow at her sister while maintaining her balance. “You said you don’t care about tea.”

Betty pouted. “Well, now I do, if you are having it. It may be yummy!”

Archie let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “See what I mean?” He glanced at Mr. Johnson and I because the girls had proved his point, his smirk returning. “You lot don’t care about something—until you see another girl has it. And then suddenly, you have to have it too. That’s why you don’t get tea. That’s why girls don’t get luxuries and privileges, much less modesty!”

The girl's competitive smiles faded as Archie’s words sunk in.

I didn’t want them to feel hopeless, or dejected. I had an idea that there was a method behind the madness of ensuring girls were treated differently. I had known stuck-up girls, who took everything for granted, and I wanted them to see the bright side.

“Yeah, but you’ve got a mum and a brother who actually care enough to correct you when you screw up. They don’t let you overindulge or make a mess of yourselves. Your mum could’ve just gone out without saying a word, but she didn’t—she called me to make sure you took your bath, ate properly, and didn’t turn the place into some kind of orgy.”

I took a shot in the dark that would resonate with them. I was happily surprised that Archie and the girls appreciated what I said and didn’t disagree.

“You may not get a lot of choices other than to do what you are told, but it was like that for me until I was old enough to know better. Boys just mature faster than girls. I used to have babysitters as well.”

I didn’t admit that my older sister Janis used to babysit me. I wasn’t sure how much credibility I would have after that.

Archie snickered, shaking his head. “If you’re lost, do you refuse to check a map just because you don’t like being told where to go? Seems daft, doesn’t it?”

I nodded. “Everyone has a boss. Teachers tell students what to do, principals tell teachers what to do, superintendents tell principals what to do. Nobody just runs around doing whatever they want—it would be chaos.”

Betty and Veronica exchanged a look, both still balancing their biscuits, neither arguing.

Veronica sighed, shifting on her knees. “It’s not that we mind so much being told what to do – it is nice to wake up and not have to think too much about what we’ve got to do.” Her voice was measured, but her cheeks were pink. “It’s just a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?”

Betty nodded, wiggling her fingers slightly to keep her balance. “Yeah. You lot get to stand there fully dressed, eating digestives like it’s nothing, while we have to kneel here on the hard concrete, trying not to drop half a bloody biscuit from our noses.”

Veronica huffed, giving them a pointed look. “And barking like proper mutts while you laugh at us for being drippy little tarts who can’t think of anything but ourselves.”

They weren’t complaining—they knew they had no room to. They were aware they looked ridiculous, but they accepted it, and Archie snickered, shaking his head. “If you’re lost, do you refuse to check a map just because you don’t like being told where to go? Seems daft, doesn’t it?”

I nodded. “Everyone has a boss. Teachers tell students what to do; principals tell teachers what to do; superintendents tell principals what to do. Nobody just runs around doing whatever they want—it would be chaos. There is a hierarchy, you are just a little lower than boys and your mum.”

Betty and Veronica exchanged a look, both still balancing their biscuits, neither arguing.

Veronica sighed, shifting on her knees. “It’s not that we mind so much.” Her voice was measured, but her cheeks were pink. “It’s just a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?”

Betty nodded, wiggling her fingers slightly to keep her balance. “Yeah. You lot get to stand there fully dressed, eating digestives like it’s nothing, while we have to kneel here, trying not to drop half a bloody biscuit from our noses.”

Veronica huffed, giving them a pointed look. “And barking like proper mutts while you laugh at us for being drippy little tarts who can’t think of anything but ourselves.”

They weren’t complaining—they knew they had no room to—but they were aware of how ridiculous they looked but they obeyed me, and that was giving me a throbbing boner.

“You aren’t even barking,” Archie scoffed dismissively before “And you don’t think that’s exactly why you ought to be laughed at for dripping quim juice while you show us what obedient pups you can be? We put together this little contest, give you all this attention, come up with proper rewards and you would deny us even a quick laugh? We’re supposed to act like it’s not funny?”

I could tell Archie was struggling to keep a straight face, trying to play the hard ass, but the amusement was all over him. He clearly wanted to crack up. If the girls weren’t so focused on their balancing act, they’d have caught the corners of his mouth twitching into a grin.

Betty blushed, biting her lip. “…Guess if I saw some naked slut competing to be the best puppy, it would be a bit funny -I’d laugh as well.”

Veronica rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine. Laugh it up.” She gave a playful little wag of her hips before letting out a deliberate bark. “When do we start the game?”

“We are playing now! We’re waiting for one of you mutts to drop the cookie!” I informed my cousins with a wry look of amusement.

[EddieDavidson]

Images from Chapter Five...chapter six will probably be the final chapter.

[EddieDavidson]

[EddieDavidson]

[EddieDavidson]

I was deeply entrenched in the naughty puppy games we were playing outside and almost didn’t hear the doorbell when it rang. The sound broke the stalemate between my competitive cousins. I was enjoying the bouncing butts, and the humiliating games – but it was time for dinner! The girls were going to have to get the pizza from the delivery guy, which was going to be a whole new level of mortification for them.

“You both tied,” I announced as I snatched their cookies from their noses.

Veronica’s face fell, her freckled nose scrunching up as her dark brows knitted together. Her lips pushed into a pout, and she sat back on her heels, arms crossed beneath her bare chest. She was clearly pissed off.

“Are we not to have our digestives after all that, then?” she called after me, her voice carrying that unmistakable tone of a girl who felt thoroughly cheated of her victory. I absolutely adored how competitive the girls could be with one another and how deeply they sought my approval.

She didn’t like being paddled, but she allowed me to use a wooden paddle on her ass. She would have let me keep going if I had insisted on the full forty swats, she had earned for being caught with her mother’s dildo. My cousin had voluntarily pushed her toothbrush up her ass when I punished her for masturbating with it in the bathroom when she was supposed to be taking a crap. Veronica humiliated herself by crawling around like a puppy in her backyard.

I found it amusing that she drew the line and was not able to have half of a digestive cracker she felt she had earned! She looked as if she was about to call it quits and tell me to go to hell for being unfair to her.

I hadn’t intended to deny the girls their crackers. I just didn’t want the pizza guy to leave because we didn’t open the door fast enough.

“Stop sulking; of course, you can both have your crackers,” I tossed it to her, and it landed on the concrete by her knees.

“Thank you, Mister Dalton,” Veronica brightened as she picked it up and ate it. Betty’s blue eyes gleamed as she picked hers up and ate it as well. I called my cousins to follow me. I’d be blowing most of my allowance on this pizza.

“I can’t bloody wait for this pizza,” Veronica chimed, practically bouncing as we rushed inside. Her grin was wide, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Are we finishing the contest right after, Mister Dalton?” she asked, barely containing her excitement.

“Yes,” I assured the girls. I was having a blast. I think their main concern was that I might get bored and forget about their competition – and I hadn’t expected them to be so enthusiastic at all.

I turned to Mr. Johnson. “You sticking around to judge?”

He shook his head. “Wish I could, but I’ve gotta get home. Can’t wait to hear who wins, though.”
“Oh, we’ll be sure to inform you tomorrow, Mister Johnson,” Betty purred, soaking up the attention. She tilted her head, flicking her hair back with a smug little smirk. “I’ll have my ‘Best Puppy Ever’ ribbon, so you’ll know it was me straight away!”

“Don’t count your chickens just yet, sis!” Veronica shot back, grinning. My cousin hadn’t intended it, but she gave me an idea.

“When you greet the pizza guy, I want you to do the Funky Chicken at the door,” I decided firmly.
“The what?” Veronica stared at me, completely lost.

I planted my feet, bent my knees, and stuck my arms out at my sides, hands flapping as I hunched forward. “Like this,” I said, bobbing my head in time as I jerked my elbows back and forth. Mr. Johnson and Archie snorted, trying—and failing—not to laugh. The girls smirked, clearly amused by how ridiculous I looked.

“Are we to do other animals, Mister Dalton?” Betty asked, unfazed and clearly eager to give it a go.
“What do you mean?” I asked.

My cousin set her hands on her hips, elbows jutting backward as she stuck her head forward, then back, mimicking the movement. “Bit like Mick Jagger, innit?” She threw in a few exaggerated steps, testing it out, before adding with a smirk, “I mean, we were puppies just now, and now we’re bloody chickens. What next? Are we working our way through Old MacDonald’s farm by the end of the night?”
Archie scoffed, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Sounds about right. You lot already stink like pigs, eat like cows, got the sense of a stunned sheep, and the grace of a flock of geese on a motorway. The only thing left is to shove a carrot up your arses and call you donkeys.

“How bloody cheeky! You want to be the boss of us whenever it suits your fancy and have us prancing about like a pair of donkeys? It’s one thing making your tea or folding your laundry, but you’d have us braying like a pair of right jackasses too?” Betty wrinkled her nose in mock outrage.

“What’s the difference? Mister Dalton’s already got you flapping your arms and clucking like a chicken,” Archie shot back.
“That’s for punishment, innit?” Betty turned to me, arching a brow.

I really wasn’t sure if it WAS a punishment, as much as I just wanted to make my cute cousins do it. I had only just thought of it after Veronica mentioned chickens.

"Remember, you’re also supposed to greet the pizza guy just as you are -completely naked. Then ask if it’s unfair that you’ve got toothbrushes shoved up your asses as punishment—for getting caught getting off with them in the bathroom when you were supposed to be taking a shit. And don’t forget, they belonged to your mom and brother. You need to ask if he thinks you should have to wait for her to get home, confess what you did, and beg for forgiveness. I want to see you flapping your wings, clucking your beaks, and begging like good little chicken-twats."

Archie burst out laughing, and Mister Johnson joined in. What surprised me was that the girls chuckled, too.

“We get it—make proper fools of ourselves!” Betty and Veronica laughed it off. They were a little reluctant to answer the door, but it didn’t take much coaxing. The whole scenario seemed to amuse them.

The delivery guy looked familiar. I recognized him from school—some football player, but we didn’t exactly run in the same circles. He was clearly stunned to find two pretty, naked girls standing there, wearing nothing but collars and hair bows.

“Brian Wingate?” they cooed, practically melting on the spot. Their faces were already pink, but now? They were scarlet. The fact he was stupidly handsome just made it worse for them. Then again, if he’d been some nerdy wimp they had to fawn over, they’d probably be just as mortified.

Brian grinned, holding up the pizza box. “Twelve bucks,” he said.

The girls patted their thighs, making it obvious they had no money on them. The way they stood, I could tell they were hoping he’d step inside.

I reached for my wallet, ready to hand them the cash, but Mister Johnson stopped me. “Nah, I’ve had too much fun tonight. Least I can do is cover the pizza,” he said with a grin, pulling a twenty from his wallet and passing it to the girls.

My cousins were clearly having second thoughts. They froze, shifting on their feet, hands fidgeting at their sides as they awkwardly stared at Brian—waiting for him to say something as they paid him.

I had a feeling this wasn’t the first time Brian had seen a naked woman answer the door for a pizza. It might’ve been the first time he’d seen two do it together, though.

Veronica tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing at Betty before clearing her throat. “Would you come inside? We’ve got to ask you a question,” she said, her voice just a touch too high like she was asking him to homecoming.

“Cluck-cluck, chickens,” Archie jeered, shoving them toward the door before launching into a sing-song. “Chick, chick, chick, chick, chicken, lay a little egg for me!”

The girls hesitated the second they stepped outside, their eyes darting up and down the street. No one in sight—but that didn’t mean a car wouldn’t come rolling past any second.

Brian chuckled as they moved forward and, with visible reluctance, began flapping their arms and bobbing their heads, their knees bending awkwardly with each exaggerated step.

Their voices wavered as they picked up the rhyme, out of sync but managing to stumble through it—flapping, clucking, and swaying like ridiculous, overgrown birds bending at the knee.

[[[ image 06_chicken.jpg goes here centered ]]]

Chick, chick, chick, chick, chicken, lay a little egg for me
Chick, chick, chick, chick, chicken, I want one for my tea
I haven’t had an egg since Easter, and now it’s half past three
So, chick, chick, chick, chicken, lay a little egg for me

They were so busy wiggling their asses, shaking their tits, squatting low, and clucking while Brian giggled that they completely forgot to ask about the toothbrushes. It seemed like a dance number straight from a Benny Hill sketch.

It may have helped that Archie, Mister Johnson, and I were laughing, but Brian found it absolutely hysterical. It wasn’t sexual or even remotely sexy – it was absurd, ridiculous, and entirely over the top.

Brian doubled over, hands on his knees, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “I—fucking—hell,” he wheezed between gasps, wiping a tear from his eye. “I have never seen anything like this in my life!” He clutched the pizza bag to his chest like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

Betty and Veronica, still flapping, lurched toward him, eyes wide with panic. “Please, Brian, don’t tell anyone at school about this!” Betty blurted, her voice an urgent whisper.

“Yeah, not a word?” Veronica pleaded; her hands clasped together like she was begging for divine intervention.

“I get it. You were doing a dare or something,” Brian grinned, shaking his head as he stepped back toward his car. “No one’d believe me even if I had a polaroid to prove it,” he said, still chuckling as he opened the door. “Y’all have a good night—and thanks for the laugh.”

The girls creamily bid him a fond farewell. They were completely unconcerned with their modesty; they stood there, bare and beaming, basking in his attention as if he were some rock god who had just graced them with his presence. Their faces were flushed, but I think they were just turned on and not humiliated at all.

Brian slid into his car, giving them one last amused glance before shaking his head with a wide, knowing smirk. He pulled away, his grin lingering like he’d just been let in on the best secret of his life. He pointed at me as if I was a cool kid. I wondered if he’d talk to me about it when I went back to school on Monday. He probably didn’t know they were my cousins and thought that I was over there to fuck the girls.

The girls squealed and giggled and turned to waddle back in the house. I was tempted to shut the door on them just to see how they’d react. I could imagine if my sister was teasing me in the same way, she’d lock me out of the house naked in the front yard, and I’d be terrified.

Betty and Veronica were such good sports about it and even continued dancing and singing bits of the nursery rhyme that I didn’t feel it was warranted to lock them out. I was going to have to break it to them that they completely forgot to ask him about the toothbrushes – and that was probably going to disappoint them.

The moment the door shut behind them, Betty and Veronica let out giddy squeals like they had just met Bon Jovi, Rob Lowe, and David Lee Roth combined into one sex symbol. “Brian Wingate, at our house! Oh my!! I can die happy now!” Veronica said dramatically.

Their laughter bubbled up between breathless giggles as they nudged each other with their elbows, their eyes still wide with adrenaline.

“Oh my God,” Betty gasped, clutching the pizza box to her chest like it was some sacred relic. “Did you see the way he looked at me? He wanted me! He looked me right in the eyes and licked his lips.”

““Wanted you? Wanted you to get out the fucking way so he could talk to me, more like!” Veronica scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Wanted you to grow a set of proper tits or wash your stenchy twat?”

The girls obviously had a habit of throwing one another under the bus and bicker. I decided to let them continue because Mr. Johnson and Archie seemed just as amused by the back-and-forth tear-down as I was.

“You’ve tits the same size as mine, and your hairy piss-flaps smell just as bad as mine,” Betty countered and added, “You were singing off-key like a drunken slapper whose had six pints too many, shimmying like a trollop on heat.”

“Gobshite!” Veronica huffed. “We’ll see who he talks to on Monday! Big Bird, flapping around like some gormless twat with your knees knocking together, or—” She flicked her hair over her shoulder, tilting her chin up. “Me. Poised, graceful, legs for days—like a fucking page three girl with class. I bet he’s thinking about me right now.”

Betty let out an exaggerated groan.

“You vain little spunk-flaps, the only thing he’s thinking about is what a pair of Muppets you looked like drooling over him like a couple of desperate tarts who get laid they crawled up a chicken’s ass and waited!” Archie folded his arms, shaking his head. “You really think Brian fucking Wingate—the most popular bloke in school—will be wanking off to your worthless bit of muff covering your gashes?”

The girls were stunned in their tracks as they turned to face their brother, heads down in shame.

“Brian’s dated Laurie Wagner AND Dove Madison—both head cheerleaders, both built like fucking glamour models.” Archie scolded them over their hubris. “You really reckon he’d trade a fucking Lotus Esprit for two busted Austin Metros with toothbrushes hanging out of their farty arses?”

The moment Archie said it, their faces dropped. I saw it—wide eyes, mouths slightly open, a slow, dawning horror creeping in that they neglected to ask for permission to take the brushes out before telling their mom about it. They reminded me of two birds who’d just flown straight into a fucking window.

Their hands shot behind them at the same time, fingers fumbling at their backsides as if somehow, some way, they could undo the last few minutes of their lives.

“Oh, shit,” Betty whispered, her voice barely there.

“We forgot!” Veronica gasped, spinning to me in sheer panic. “Mister Dalton, that shouldn’t count, right? We were distracted!”

They both stared at me, pleading, still clutching their own asses like that would make the problem disappear.

I folded my arms. “I reminded you twice, and that’s not my problem. Our pizza’s getting cold. Now, thank Mister Johnson for buying it, apologize for bickering like two brats in front of him, then carry it into the kitchen and put two slices on plates for your brother and me.”

I felt no sympathy for them – in fact, I thought it was kind of funny.

Betty and Veronica exchanged a look before pouting. “We don’t get pizza?”

I sighed. “I told you that you would. But right now, I’m telling you to put ours on plates.”

Betty huffed dramatically but turned to Mister Johnson with a forced little smile. “Sorry for acting like a right pair of gobshites in front of you, Mister Johnson. You know how we are. We do appreciate the pizza very much!”

Veronica nodded and echoed her sister's apology and expression of gratitude. I was tempted to make the two of them curtsy. They sounded very formal, like Tim Curry and the woman who played the maid in the movie Clue.

Mister Johnson chuckled, shaking his head as he grabbed his coat. “You two are something else. Enjoy your night.”

“You’ve nothing to whinge about; your gobby fart holes are so wide that you barely feel the brushes now, don’t you?” Archie teased them.

“I don’t know why you have to call it a fart-hole, I barely break wind, maybe once or twice a day,” Betty pouted and blushed.

“I call it a fart hole because If I called it a cum-hole, you wouldn’t know if I met your bum or your quim; now, can we have our pizza, or do you plan to stand there all day acting like I’ve no right to tease you about using MY brush to satisfy your horny little urges?”

“You could be less vulgar and call my arse an arsehole, or at least a shite or crap hole,” Betty pouted and blushed.

“Then how would we tell the difference between that yapper on your face, unloading verbal crap, and telling fibs like you’ve no remorse,” Archie giggled.

“You could call my gob a pizza hole for all I care, as long as we get it before it turns cold, Mister Archie?” Betty pleaded.

“I’ll call all your holes a cock hole because to hear you tell it, you’ve taken cock up the arse, in the mouth, fanny, and any place else a guy wants to stick it,” he teased.

“Guilty as charged,” Betty was proud of her sexual appetites and saw that as a compliment.

“I don’t believe girls need pizza any more than they do modesty to cover their hairy quims, but Mister Dalton thinks you’ve earned it,” Archie directed his older sisters to the kitchen.

The girls shuffled off quickly to put our pizza on plates. Mr. Johnson shook my hand “Pleasure meeting you, son. Hope I see you again.” He chuckled, glancing toward the kitchen. “This is… quite different from the norm.”

“Yeah, my mum would never let them do contests, flirt with cute blokes, have pizza, or skip out on a proper punishment—especially not for something that doesn’t even bother them,” Archie told me seriously.

“I appreciate you supporting me anyway. I’m not a cruel taskmaster, Archie,” I said as we bid goodbye to Mister Johnson.

“Me neither,” Archie shrugged. “Normally, I let my mum handle things with the girls and keep my distance. I can see how frustrating they can be.”

“They act nice, but if you let ‘em, they’d scoff the whole pizza and leave us with f*ck all. And let’s be honest—my toothbrush? Wouldn’t be shocked if they’ve been getting their kicks with that for months.” He shook his head, completely unfazed. “Not even surprised. That’s just typical of those two.”

“Does your mum spank the girls in front of Mister Johnson?” I asked while we were alone. I assumed that my cousin Archie never got spanked or even disciplined by his mother.

“Mum would take their panties down in front of the pope if they misbehave,” Archie regarded me as if I were an idiot for asking something so basic. “Where we come from, it takes a village, so if any adult for a girl doing something she shouldn’t, they’ve permission to give them a spanking.”

“Yes, obviously,” I nodded and made it seem like that’s how it worked where I lived as well without coming out and saying that. I wondered what life was like for girls in the Surrey country. I’d heard it was like that in the 1970s, around where I grew up. People’s attitudes had been changing about corporal punishment in recent years. You rarely even saw someone get spanked by teachers in school anymore.

The girls were used to sitting on their butts in the kitchen, but I wanted them on all fours. They smiled as they set our plates with pizza on the table. “These are for you,” I smiled right back. “I assume you spit on them,” I said.

“Nothing could be further from the truth,” Veronica and Betty’s smiles faded after I accused them of sabotaging our pizza. “Why would we do that? You are giving us pizza and being sweet to us!”

“Why did you manipulate me into letting you play with yourselves? And why did Betty trick me into catching her with her mother’s dildo? Who the hell knows why girls do what they do? You can’t be trusted.”

Archie burst out laughing, shaking his head. “You’ve got the right of it, Mister Dalton,” he chuckled, watching as his sisters turned scarlet.

They didn’t deny it. “Kneel on the tile, place your palms flat on the tile, and you’ll eat like puppies; that’ll be our next contest.”

“How exactly are we supposed to pick up pizza with our palms on the tile, Mister Dalton?” Veronica asked, shifting into position but still giving me a puzzled look.

I held out a slice of pizza, dangling it just out of reach. “You leave the thinking to the babysitter and just do as you’re told. You’re puppies now; the contest is back on, so I want to hear barking, not whining.”

The girls, already crouched with their palms on the tile, wagged their backsides like excited pups, eyes fixed on the pizza.

“Woof!” Betty yipped, snapping her teeth at the air before lunging forward and taking a bite.

“Arf, arf!” Veronica followed suit, grinning as she nipped at her turn, chewing with exaggerated delight. “Oh, Mister Dalton, you really do spoil us!”

Archie scoffed, tearing a chunk of his own slice. “Spoil you? You two get pizza and get to make fools of yourselves. That’s what I call a fucking bargain.”

Betty smirked, licking sauce from the corner of her mouth. “Brian Wingate probably wouldn’t mind a puppy or two,” she mused.

Veronica huffed, nudging Betty aside with her shoulder. “Woof, I was the one he kept looking at.” She let out a playful yip before flashing me a sweet smile. “Speaking of…oh em, Arf! Arf!… Mister Dalton, who’s in the lead for best sister and best puppy?”

I let the question hang for a second, keeping them eager to hear how they were doing in the contest.

Archie rolled his eyes. “Tied as puppies. And as for ‘better sister’?” He smirked. “Tied for dead fucking last.”

“Archie’s the only one who gets a say on that,” I said, holding the pizza just out of reach. “But as puppies? You’re neck and neck. So, bark like dumb little mutts, eat your pizza, wag your tails, and get into it.” I shot them a look. “You don’t want to do what he tells you, so I’ve got no clue why he’d call either of you a good sister.”

Veronica pouted, then let out a sharp woof. “We never said we wouldn’t do what he tells us! We’re on our bloody knees eating pizza, for fuck’s sake—find me another sister who’d do that on command.”

Betty gave a playful sigh, shifting her weight. “It’s a bit rough on my knees, and yeah, having my quim out like this is proper embarrassing—but at least Veronica has to do it too.” She grinned, tilting her head. “And if you can come up with more of this shit and keep being a meanie, I wouldn’t mind it one bit.”

Archie snorted. “Yeah, but only ‘cause you like it when I hold the pizza and hand-feed you.” His smirk deepened. He was having fun with this, too, but he made it seem like an obligation and a chore that he had to do just to mess with them.

Veronica gave a mock gasp, batting her lashes “Wuff! Wuff!” wiggling her ass as her pussy dripped quim juice on her thighs. She was getting turned on by this game. I wasn’t sure how, but I was hard as a rock myself. I doubted I would have felt the same way if I were the one on my knees barking like a silly puppy.

I don’t know how they did it, but they managed to make feeding them into a bit of a competition. Veronica took a big bite, and Betty took an entire chomp and growled playfully.

Despite their dainty frames, they went at it with pure enthusiasm, making a show of it like everything else—big bites, playful growls, a little competition in every movement.

Veronica lunged first, taking a dramatic chomp, while Betty snatched a whole mouthful and let out a low, rumbling growl, shaking her head like she was ripping apart prey.

For all their effort, they couldn’t keep a straight face, dissolving into giggles even as they play-fought over the next bite.

“So, you doggy sluts want to eat like this at every meal?” I asked as I watched the toothbrushes in their butts wiggle from side to side.

“Arf! Arf! Arrooo!” Betty’s howl sounded like agreement. Veronica brushed a little of her dark hair out of her eyes and pragmatically added that her mum would never go for this.

“Wuff, we are barely allowed to be naked all the time; I doubt she’d go for us stripping at the door, every morning, noon, and night just because Mister Archie is home!”

It sounded like they wanted to be naked all the time, and their only concern was their mother would put a limit on it.

“Mum doesn’t want to smell girly-pussy juice, arse-sweat, and have your dark and curlies falling out all over the floor night and day,” Archie explained to them like they were dumb bimbos, scrunching his nose up scornfully at the girls.

“Arf, you and Mister Dalton are the ones who told us to strip down at the door when we see you!” Betty reminded me as she chewed another bite pizza. Archie and I had to stop feeding them long enough to feed ourselves before it went cold.

“Mister Dalton’s the one who said you have to strip at the door when you see me. I don’t see what’s in it for me, making decisions for you and keeping you starkers. It’s not like I’ve got some raging hard-on for staring at your nubby little tits, hairy gashes, and sweaty little asses—you are just my sisters, not some hot girls.” Archie scoffed. “You being bare-ased ain’t some great mystery. I’ve seen you both naked my whole fucking life. More hassle than it’s worth watching over you. I’ve learned that tonight! Now, I’ve got to you feed you pair of gobby little baby birds, snapping and biting at my fucking fingers…” He winced as Betty took another bite, a little too eagerly.

The girls giggled their agreement.

“If your mum won’t have it, then just strip down when I am here,” I decided.
“It would be funny if Archie got stuck babysitting us, and feeding us like this at every meal,” Veronica chewed on the pizza as she imagined her brother getting frustrated.

Betty’s eyes widened, and she gave an exaggerated pant. “Oh yes, every meal, Archie! Just imagine it! You could walk us outside to have a pooh on the lawn and pick up after us!”

Archie snorted. “Yeah, no thanks. I already have to tell you what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. You barely listen, hear what you want, and half the time, you half-ass it. I certainly don’t want to have to smell girly-turds and watch the two of you squeeze your cheese on the lawn while you have a laugh! What the fuck would be in that for me?”

I changed the subject by reaching down between Veronica’s legs and masturbating the toothbrush in her ass. She almost spat out her pizza when she realized that I was fucking her butt with it.

“Oooh, Mister Dalton, don’t do that,” she pled, but she didn’t plead very hard. She clearly enjoyed it – she just didn’t want me to get her started up and then stop.

“You can do that to me,” Betty presented her cute little ass, side by side with her sister so that I could use my other hand to masturbate her.

“Now, you’ve gone and done it, you’ve got the two cum gobblers all hot and bothered for it, and you can’t even eat your pizza,” Archie didn’t even watch as the girls humped themselves onto the bristles while I fucked their butts with the brushes. “They’ll cream themselves and fall flat on the kitchen tile before they’d feel an ounce of shame taking it up the arse!”

If Betty and Veronica heard Archie, they didn’t let on. They both moaned, bit their lips, and enjoyed the sensation. “Oh, keep going, Mister Dalton! Please…don’t stop, don’t leave me hanging!”

“She’s gagging for it. Are you really going to allow my sisters to have an orgasm on the kitchen floor?” Archie was disappointed in me. I was tempted to get them so close that they were almost there and then leave them to agonize.

Instead, I kept going! I was fascinated by how their bodies twisted and spasmed. Pools of spit formed on their lips, and the girls shifted face forward, nose to the tile, asses up. “In my puss, please! Oh, please…on the clit, it’s too much teasing!!” Veronica begged.

I could have made them bark like dogs, and they probably would have – they were melting for me.

“Oh, oh,” Betty couldn’t take it any longer after about five minutes. She reached behind herself, and began to finger fuck her pussy, resting her body on her tits. Veronica didn’t have to see what was going on to know that her sister was masturbating. She quickly joined her – neither girl really had an ounce of modesty about showing me how they get off.

“For Christ’s sake, are you really going to let them play with themselves? I’ve never seen a babysitter take things this far with the girls,” Archie chided me.

I ignored Archie, and kept going, intent on watching the girls cum – on making them cum. They were aching for it, begging to be permitted to cum. I had never seen a girl’s pussy this wet, and both of my cousins’ pussies were soaked.

I could imagine the shoe being on the other foot and the two of them jerking me off. They could be seriously trying to get me an orgasm, but I wouldn’t have to beg for permission to shoot my load. I’d just ejaculate —on their hands, my belly, wherever.

The ONLY way I’d ask permission to cum, would be if they were doing a sloppy job and I was close, but I couldn’t quite reach that perfect pleasure plateau to euphoric ecstasy. The only way that I would BEG for permission was if I thought they could stop right before I shot my load and leave me frustrated.

I could only imagine that whether I asked or begged, the girls would be laughing at me if my pleasure was in their hands, and they could deny it – so I laughed while they cooed, mewled, begged, and I teased them. I didn’t try to be malicious or sadistic about it.

Instead, I imagined what they might do if they had my cock in their hands and were playing with it. My cousins had mentioned teasing me and prolonging my ejaculation early on when I first arrived and caught them masturbating. I went slow, pushing the toothbrushes in and out of their asses slowly, and then I abruptly sped up – forcing their hips to gyrate as new sensations rocked their young bodies – messing with their rhythm and frustrating them a bit as they adjusted to how I plunged the brush into their backside – but still getting themselves off.

My cousins intensely enjoyed the effort I made toward pumping their butts with the brushes, while at the same time I could see the humiliation spread on their faces. I wasn’t sure how much of the pleasure was involuntary or not – they could have just stood up and refused to let me continue if they had really wanted me to stop.

Instead, their breathing became rapid, their faces flushed with humiliation, goosebumps appeared all over their bodies, as they creamed and enjoyed the sensations.

“Caw, Oh, come on, this is not fair! Mister Dalton,” Veronica huffed in an impossibly vulnerable tone. She was truly begging to be allowed to cum. She looked like she suspected I was going to stop and leave her flustered and unfulfilled.

“What’s fair to a girl, anyway?” Archie had a great laugh at his sister’s expense. “C’mon, Mister Dalton, stop playing with their dirty bums and let’s finish the pizza and this grand contest to see which of them is the better pup.”

“No, no, I am going to cum!, can I please, Mister Dalton? Don’t listen to Archie! Don’t stop!” Veronica sighed in ecstasy while her sister steadied her breath and looked straight ahead, stoically offering her ass to me. The two of them had absolutely no qualms about allowing us to watch them make fools of themselves on the floor, asses up, as I masturbated their butts with toothbrushes.

“Don’t cum! You aren’t allowed!” I demanded.

The girls only got louder and more insistent, reaching behind themselves instinctively to finger their pussies to hurry the pussy along. “Please one finger in my quim, Mister Dalton? I am beggin!” Betty’s tongue licked her lips as she adjusted to another of my sudden changes in rhythm.

“Look at you—whimpering like some sorry stray sat outside a butcher’s shop, hoping someone’ll toss you a scrap. It’s fucking pathetic… but I’ve gotta admit, it’s good for a laugh,” Archie steadfastly maintained a look of annoyance. “You should be ashamed of yourself! Getting off having your arse reamed?”

“I can’t help it, Arch…” Betty insisted.

“Yeah, I’d like to see you act like this was doing nothing to you,” Veronica blushed, while pushing her nose to the tile, and lifting her ass. “Just don’t stop, I can’t hold it back any longer, oh, oh, oh, I am cummmming……”

"Like a fish flopping on the dirty kitchen floor,"* Archie was hysterical as Veronica spasmed uncontrollably. She slid off the toothbrush and rolled onto her back, ignoring my instruction. Archie wrinkled his nose like he smelled something nasty. "Oi, you smell like cod! You’ve tartar sauce dripping out your quim!”

Betty wasn’t far behind; she apologized and began to flop around uncontrollably. She didn’t slide off the toothbrush, but she was clearly in the middle of an orgasm, and nothing I did mattered at this stage. I don’t think she noticed that I kept humping her butthole with the brush.

Their mostly unintelligible mewling was punctuated by an occasional apology, they brought their hands to their pussies and began to finger themselves uncontrollably.

“Absolute state of you lot,” Archie cast a glance of derision at his siters and then scolded me for allowing them this indulgence. “Now they are going to expect this at every dinner. You’ve no idea how these two horny little cum sluts are going to behave after this.”

I observed with pride, because I had MADE these two cum. Their bodies quivered, and they shifted to tugging their clits, and fingering their pussies, while keeping their eyes closed. There were several times their tits touched, or their faces came close to one another – but they simply did not care about personal space. They were blind to the world.

“They can’t even hear you, Archie,” I snickered as I watched the girls slowly spin down as their frenetic, pent up orgasms subsided.

“What’s next? dessert and a fucking cuddle? They’ll be expecting a pat on the head and a bedtime story at this rate.” He shook his head, scoffing. “You’re just encouraging ‘em now. They ought to be embarrassed, not lapping it up like it’s some fucking luxury.”

"Girls like your sisters don’t get embarrassed, Archie. They’ve got no sense of modesty—never have. All they care about is getting their rocks off, so they’ll rut around like horny dogs in heat if it means they can have an orgasm! Right, puppies?”

My cousins still had their eyes shut, sweaty, hair messy, blushing. The girls definitely looked embarrassed that they were so shaken and were still writhing from the sexual pleasure they had just experienced in front of me and their brother. I definitely enjoyed how Archie seemed to think that girls didn’t deserve the right to feel that way. I couldn’t explain why that turned me on – but I had a throbbing boner watching them huff and blush and wriggle around as if they they couldn’t help themselves – they accepted that they were just horny little girls.

“How could we show restraint after what you were doing to us, Mister Dalton? I am sure it was all just a pretense to punish us for having pleasure without permission, but it was worth it,” Veronica’s half-smile was partly dismissive and partly accepting that was just how things were for her.

Betty sighed, tilting her head with a wry smile as she composed herself and rolled over to sit on her butt and look up at us from the floor. "I knew you’d tease us for being horny buggers, and you are right to do it, but what did you expect? You wave a steak in front of a dog, it’s gonna drool. You can’t dangle something like that and expect us to just sit pretty, all well-behaved and disciplined. We don’t have restraint, Mister Dalton. Never have. if you are going to punish us for us, then so be it."
Archie snorted. "Too fucking right. You really ARE a pair of mutts, the both of you. You’d hump our legs if you were in heat, and we’d let you,” Archie lectured his older sister.

My cousins really were convinced that I’d punish them next and that I had done all of this just to have a good reason. “I am not going to punish you for something that I did to you. That was the bitch in heat contest, and Betty won.”

Both girls’ bright blue eyes snapped wide open, their heads jerking toward me in shock.
Veronica’s mouth fell open before she quickly snapped it shut in a pout, glaring at me like the decision was entirely arbitrary. “What do you mean, I lost? That’s bollocks! Why? How?”

Meanwhile, Betty shot her sister a smug look while gloating, even though it was clear from her face that she had no idea how she had won either.

“You were told not to cum, and Betty held out the longest.”

"Wait, you’re not going to punish us for getting off?" Veronica arched an eyebrow, her concern over losing already forgotten.
Betty stretched out on the cold kitchen tiles, sighing contentedly. "And you’d have kept playing with us if we’d managed to hold out even longer?" Her grin widened, clearly enjoying herself.

"And we get our dainty arseholes stretched out while stuffing our fat gobs with pizza, Mister Dalton?" Archie chimed in, mimicking his sisters’ sickly-sweet enthusiasm. He fluttered his eyelashes dramatically, resting his chin on his hands like some adoring little schoolgirl. "And we don’t even have to get Archie his tea, or clear the table, so long as we roll about like slutty little tarts, rutting on the floor?"

The girls burst into laughter when they heard their brother’s patronizing imitation, their giggles spilling over each other as they blushed—but neither of them challenged it.

“I’d prefer your sisters bark, but sure,” I said dryly. “That was the contest, Archie. I’m not a meanie. I wanted them to have fun.”

Veronica huffed, shaking her head with an amused grin while wiping her sticky pussy lips with her finger. "Well, that’s me put in my place, then. Least I had fun losing. I thought you were going to pull the rug out under us after you got us hot and heavy for what we did when you first arrived."

Betty beamed, stretching her arms above her head. “I really thought you’d just make us cream ourselves on the floor, then call us filthy, desperate cows, and punish us for being naughty.”

The girls regarded me as if I was the most interesting and fascinating man on the earth for having thought of this game. I certainly wasn’t going to tell them that I was playing it all by ear and hadn’t even decided that this was a game until near the end of it.

Betty pushed up onto her knees, wiggling her backside like a happy little pup. "So, I won that one, yeah? Do I get a digestive like before? Arf, arf!"

Veronica looked determined to win the next contest but no longer disputed losing the last one to her sister.

Archie snorted, shaking his head. "Caw, that was a fucking contest? These two dumb bulbs didn’t have to even try. They just had to stick their bums in the air. What’s next? See who can take the biggest pooh or which of them is more brainless than the other?”

I tossed half of a digestive cracker to Betty as her sister joined her on all fours without being instructed to do so. "You’re not wrong, Archie," I said, watching as Betty eagerly snatched up her prize with just her mouth. "The bimbos didn’t need brains for this one—lucky for them. But you’re acting like it was a guaranteed win. Holding out takes a bit of willpower. Not much, but some. And let’s be real, self-control’s not exactly in their skill set.”

Betty licked the crumbs from her lips and wiggled her backside invitingly. "Do you really think we are bimbos, Mister Dalton? Or average intelligence for girls?”

Her voice was light, but the way she peeked up at me, waiting, searching, made it clear she cared about the answer more than she was letting on. I got the sense that she didn’t see herself as smart as the average boy, but she wanted to hear that she wasn’t stupid for a girl—that she was at least average intelligence for a girl.

I didn’t consider my cousins particularly stupid—they were actually pretty clever. And with their British accents, everything they said sounded interesting. They spoke much more quickly than Americans and caught on to jokes very quickly.

I didn’t answer right away. I could feel Veronica’s eyes on me, too, even if she was pretending not to care. Archie, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate to give his sister an answer.

"You’re asking him?" Archie scoffed. "Mister Dalton doesn’t have to live with your constant whinging and fuck ups, late night sneak outs, and dumb questions. I could’ve told you the answer to that, Betts. You’re both thick as pig shit—same as every girl I’ve ever met."

I gave some thought to the question that my cousins had asked about being “Average intelligence” for a girl. My cousins clearly believed that women weren’t as smart as men. My sister and mom would probably disagree. My mom had been raised just like my Aunt, but she had never acted like girls were any less capable than men. I had also met some smart female teachers, and even back in 1987, we had a woman on the Supreme Court.

"You’re not complete idiots, but you’re horny bimbos." I gave them a pointed look. "You fawned over Brian Wingate like he was the second coming, and you’re obsessed with your looks. You don’t solve problems like boys do—you create them, like girls always do. Pretty faces, small tits, small thoughts. Petty ambitions to twist guys around your fingers for a laugh. You’re just smart enough to be dangerous when there’s something in it for you."

I shook my head. "That’s why I have to check every little thing you do. I never know if you actually enjoy playing along or if you’re just scheming to get more biscuits out of me."

Betty and Veronica glanced dumbly at each other, then back at me. They weren’t offended. They generally seemed confused. Veronica frowned, tilting her head. "So… does that make us average intelligence for girls? Above average intelligence for girls? Or dumb?" She wrinkled her nose. "I always thought a bimbo was the dumbest kind of girl?"

I realized that this all plays into their need to be constantly judged and ranked – who was the prettiest, who was the flirtiest, who was the best sister, or who was the best puppy.

I didn’t want to demoralize the girls or destroy their self-esteem. I also realized that it seemed like the more you praised or complimented my cousins, the more they saw you as weak.

“You ARE bimbos; if you had any thoughts in your thick little heads, you wouldn’t be on all fours begging for biscuits, wiggling your arses, would you?” Archie asked bluntly.

Betty pouted, then barked playfully before giggling. "We’ve no choice in it! Mister Dalton’s the sitter, and we’ve got to do what he tells us." She wagged her hips, still grinning, and barked a little. "It’s proper fun! You’d probably feel the same if you joined us down here, barking away. If that makes us bimbos for not taking ourselves too seriously, then I suppose we are."

Veronica sighed, shrugging with a knowing smirk. "We weren’t exactly asking if we were fucking geniuses, were we? It’s not that deep. Most girls would probably enjoy being puppies if they gave it a go. I don’t think boys would, but I don’t think it makes us particularly dumb for having a good laugh.”

Archie frequently insulted my cousins in very cutting ways to their face, and the girls usually just accepted it, and often agreed with a grin. This time, Veronica seemed intent on defending that just being a puppy wasn’t proof of lack of intelligence.

I arched an eyebrow. "Alright, so what if you two were in charge? What would you do if you ran the competition?"
"You mean if we had to judge ourselves as puppies and come up with our own contests?" Betty asked slowly. She and Veronica looked at each other slowly as if trying to make sense of the question.

"No," I clarified. "I mean if we had to be the puppies—because Aunt Alice said that Archie and I had to do what you told us tonight."

My comment threw them completely. The very idea seemed impossible to them. I could see it in the way their foreheads creased, the way Veronica’s eyes narrowed slightly, the way Betty’s lips parted, but no words came out. They didn’t get it—not because they were dumb, but because it was so far outside the realm of possibility to them that they would ever be put in charge.

“Yeah, would you have let us have pizza?” I asked.

They didn’t consider the idea seriously—it was such a ridiculous concept to them that they genuinely struggled to answer like I’d asked them how to land a spaceship on the Planet Xenon.

Betty faltered, shifting on her hands. "I... I don’t know," she admitted, her voice uncertain. "We’d get pizza, so obviously you’d get pizza too... I think?"!”

“The girls running the best puppy contest?” Archie interrupted. He clearly understood what I was asking the girls. “That’s like asking the dogs to run the kennel.”

Wait, are you asking if we’d still be in the contest if you two were on the floor with us? Or if we’d have to make up all the rules and just sit there and watch?" Veronica stuck her pretty up-turned nose up as if the second option was out of the question.
"Yeah," I nodded. "I’m asking if the tables were turned—would you have let me and Archie have pizza? Would you have made us compete to see who could hold out the longest while we masturbated?"

“I don’t know,” Betty giggled at the absurdity of the question before adding that her mum would never allow them to be in charge.

“Would you want us to make you jerk off? Would you let us eat the jizz after you had a wank?” Veronica asked, proving she still didn’t fully understand that if she were in charge, that would be entirely up to her.

“Would you shoot your wads on our pizza?” Betty’s cute face reflected her excitement over her perverted question.

“You two spunk guzzlers think I’d let you drain my balls and eat my jizz?” Archie scoffed.

“Why not? You wipe your cock on the drapes in your room after you have had a wank,” the girls pointed out. I couldn’t imagine having that much audacity to do that to my curtains, and I was shocked that his sisters even knew that he did it.

“I am your brother, you randy incestuous little sluts!” Archie seemed miffed but not entirely shocked that his sisters were interested in eating his cum. I was surprised that the girls were so casual about it.

“Arf! It’s not like we would be after a shag with you, Mister Archie!” Betty clarified “it would just be a proper waste of some cum, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, Arf! Jizz is jizz, it doesn’t matter who shoots it out; it’s just right tasty, isn’t it?” Veronica seemed pleased that her sister agreed.

“This is why girls can’t be trusted with authority or making decisions,” Archie said. “You two cum swallowing bimbos are too busy thinking about how much boy-milk you can swallow to even see why Mister Dalton is asking you these questions. He isn’t asking you what you would do if you had authority over us. "To even see why Mister Dalton is asking you these questions. He isn’t asking you what you’d do if you had authority over us. You’ll never have that. You’ve just proven you are too dumb to realize he's ridiculing you. That’s what’s funny about it—you’re trying to answer a question that’s meant to take the piss.”

I genuinely wanted to know what the girls would do if the roles were reversed—if they’d use their authority the same way I was using mine. If they would, then maybe I wouldn’t feel so guilty about teasing them. However, Archie’s sisters clearly believed his scenario that I was toying with them was far more likely. They looked at me as if I was suddenly dawning on them that I had played them masterfully.

"It’s like asking a little kid playing doctor how they’d perform open-heart surgery—like they’re ever going to hold the fucking scalpel. It’s patronizing as hell, and you’re too thick to realize you’re being humiliated just by answering."

“I know you are having a laugh, and girls are meant to be teased, but we can’t help being a bit daft and horny all the time, especially with you sticking things up our bums and wanking us off, it’s not our fault,” Veronica pouted defensively. She seemed to accept that she couldn’t help these personal failings about herself. However, Archie didn’t see it that way at all.

“It’s always something you can’t help. You can’t help you creamed yourselves over the pizza guy, or that your nipples get hard as stones when it’s cold. You couldn’t help but steal my toothbrush and stick it up your shitter to get your rocks off.” Archie let out another sharp laugh, shaking his head. "And that is another prime reason why girls shouldn’t be in charge of anything. We don’t need to hand you the keys to the car to see that you’d drive it straight into a fucking ditch.”

“We’re not arguing, Mister Archie,” Betty barked as she spoke -like the eager puppy she was supposed to be. She was annoyed or perhaps embarrassed that she agreed with her brother’s observations about them as females. She smiled, anxious to get back to being a puppy.

“Brilliant, I suppose I’ve got to clear away my own dishes, because this lot doesn’t have to stand up to do the chores now that they get to play slutty puppy at dinner?” Archie stood up with our empty plates to put them in the sink. “What’s next? Wipe their arse when they take a dump, and mop the floors?”

I was about to respond, when Veronica wiggled her ass cheeks obscenely with a bemused bark. “Caw,” she asked her brother “You would do that for us, Mister Archie?”

[EddieDavidson]

[EddieDavidson]

“I suppose the brushes won’t be going back up their arses now, either?” Archie regarded me as if I was coddling his sisters.

“I thought I’d give them a little reprieve so that they could air out their tight little buttholes,” I decided. “They still have to tell their mom what they did and show her when she gets home.”

“Wuff, Mister Dalton, we’ve been well-behaved,” Betty sat up on her knees, begging with her hands in front of her peach-shaped tits, and smiled at me. I assumed she was going to ask me not to tell her mom what they did with the brushes. I was ready to deny that request – one of the brushes they had used had belonged to my Aunt, and I wasn’t going to let them out of that. “Can we put the brushes in our cunnies? We need proper tails to be puppies.”

“Aye, we’ll end up with it back up our holes again before Mum comes home; I’d like to clean mine off proper, and I don’t mind using it as a tail.”

The girls were clearly enthusiastic about getting themselves off again.

“First off, it’s not YOUR brush; one of them was mine, and the other belonged to Mum. Secondly, you two are being punished for playing with yourselves while you were in the loo, yeah? So, when you go on about how you wouldn’t mind, it sounds like you’re doing the two of us a fucking favor—like we should be grateful you’re getting your jollies instead of actually learning something. Lastly, have you ever seen a puppy with a tail sticking out of its cunning? It goes up your arse!”

“I’ve never seen a dog with a tail sticking out of its arse, either,” Archie snickered. “You are as horny and mangy as dogs, smell like them, and probably have as many fleas, but you’ll never have the proper tails.”

“It’s just pretend, Mister Archie!” Betty pouted with disappointment.

“Aye, we are just playing at being puppies,” Veronica agreed.

“I’d rather you play at being proper sisters and get off your lazy bums and make me a cup of tea when I ask,” Archie patted the girls on the top of their heads. His voice was laced with mock sweetness, the kind that barely concealed a smirk. Every word dripped with exaggerated patience, like he was humoring a child who insisted they were a grown-up.

My sister would have never pretended to be a dog for my amusement, much less her own. However, she would have certainly told me to fuck off and get my own tea if I had made the same statement to her. She would have certainly never tolerated Archie’s playful condescension the way his sisters did. I envied him for that.

“This is more fun than making a cup of tea,” Betty pouted apologetically before asking eagerly what the next contest would be – punctuating it with a quick series of yappy barks.

“Horniest dog,” I decided. I hadn’t given it much thought but decided that I’d make an attempt to let the girls play with themselves again. Betty and Veronica seemed eager to find out more, but Archie sighed and shifted in his seat.

“Pshaw, is all this just an excuse to watch my sisters finger fuck themselves to happy town?” Archie seemed disappointed with my lack of creativity. I decided that I had to make it seem different than the last session.

“Get your mother’s dildo. I am sure you both know where it is,” I said firmly. Veronica and Betty looked confused when I gave them that instruction.

“Are we to get in trouble again?” Veronica pouted nervously.

“Only if you don’t crawl into her bedroom and get the dildo. You already had it in your quim, so it’s not like you will be in any less trouble for playing with yourselves.”

“I thought we were already punished for that,” Betty seemed calmly reluctant to do as I told her as well.

“You are still going to tell your mom what you did with her toys. Now, get the dildo before I change my mind and decide to play whack-the-puppy’s ass with a wooden paddle instead!”

The girls were off quickly, racing on all fours down the hallway to get the dildo. “Bring it back in your mouth!”

“Is there a prize for the pup that gets it first?” Veronica yipped down the hallway toward her mother’s room eagerly.

“Nope, you are a team. You have to work together!”

The girls giggled and tussled, snapping at each other like playful pups as they bounded back. Veronica came out on top, her teeth clamped triumphantly around the purple dildo, her eyes sparkling with victory. Betty bounded after her sister, giggling as she kept pace on all fours, their movements fluid, practiced—almost second nature now. They crawled with ease, backs arched, hips swaying slightly with each step, their knees barely skimming the floor. They kept their knees slightly bent, which forced their tiny butts up in the air-exposing their wet hairy little pussies.
There was no hesitation left, no self-conscious glances—if anything, I doubted they’d even think to stand upright now. Walking would feel more unnatural to them than scrambling to outdo each other in the game.

Veronica trotted straight up to me, dropping the purple dildo at my feet with a pleased little huff, as if expecting a reward for carrying it like a dog with a bone.

Archie watched with a smirk, shaking his head. "Shame you don’t move your arses that quick when I tell you to get the door or clean my bloody room."

“Good girls,” I patted them on the head and placed the dildo on its base – sitting upright in their kitchen. “Alright, back-to-back, I want you to hover over this!”

The base of the dildo was sticky and flat – enough that it could be placed on the kitchen tile and not fall over. However, it wasn’t stable. The shaft and latex cock head wobbled precariously.

“Are we meant to fuck ourselves on the dildo in front of you and Archie?” Betty scrunched her nose with a bit of confusion as she assumed the position, kneeling with her pussy over the dildo. Her sister pushed her back and butt up against hers. Their pussies were dripping – so there was no question that the two of them were horny and eager to play whatever game I had in mind. I was surprised that they were reluctant at all.

“Why? Is it something you should be ashamed of doing? You didn’t have a problem when I masturbated you with your toothbrushes.”

“That was different; we didn’t have any choice in that,” Veronica agreed. Their pussies were dripping wet as they knelt, butt cheeks touching. Their mother’s purple dildo wobbled between the cracks of their sweet little asses.

“You enjoyed it, though, right?” I asked.

“Oh, Aye, I think you could tell that, Mister Dalton,” Veronica blushed, refusing to make eye contact with me.

“Then, I think you are going to enjoy this next contest,” I assured her. I instructed the girls to spread their asses and rest the dildo between their cheeks. I assumed that they could stabilize it so that it wouldn’t fall over as long as they pressed their cheeks together to “Grip” it.

“I know you mean to laugh at us, Mister Dalton,” Betty looked up at me with big puppy dog eyes. “I don’t mind giving this a go, but I’ve never had something this big in my arse. I think it may hurt a bit.”

Betty was clearly willing to fuck her ass with the dildo. I think Veronica was as well, because she didn’t argue – only looked straight ahead while her cheeks turned beet red.

“You’ve had this contest easy, got to fill your gobs with biscuits and pizza, while Mister Dalton gave you a thrill. He loosened up your stink holes; you should be thanking your lucky stars that we are willing to sit here and watch you desperately fuck your arses. If it’s a bit uncomfortable, it’s probably meant to be – to teach you not to play with yourselves,” Archie explained with a sardonic and impatient look on his face. He didn’t sound evil. Instead, he sounded like he thought the girls should be far more grateful for the opportunity to fuck themselves in front of us.

I saw that Betty and Veronica were about to protest, or pout, but I silenced them by making a shushing sound. “I never said you’d be fucking the dildo with your arses…I mean asses,” I was picking up their British vernacular. “You are going to sing that chicken song, flap your arms, and take turns fucking the dildo with your pussies.”

Betty and Veronica grinned wickedly, while Archie protested. “This lot get to play Musical cunnies? How is that fair?”

I assumed it would be extremely humiliating for the girls to fuck themselves in the kitchen, and I was going to make it increasingly so by having them sing that silly nursery rhyme and share the same dildo while flapping their arms like chicken wings. However, the girls were eager to give it a go – thrilled by the prospect.

“I am sure there is a catch, Mister Archie,” Veronica looked up at me with her pretty blue eyes to plead for pity. The girls clearly expected there to be some twist to the game that they would not enjoy.

I didn’t have a twist – this WAS the full game. I hadn’t expected the girls to be so eager. They were already sliding their ass cracks up and down the shaft of the dildo.

“Yes, I’ll signal you to go faster, or slower, and stop. You are to fuck yourself all the way down as far as you can on the dildo, and slide off completely to the pace that I set. You are not allowed to cum until I tell you, and the girl whose quim is on the dildo the most times when I say stop will be allowed to fuck herself to orgasm,” I hastily added another stipulation.

Archie thought I was coddling his sisters and nearly got up in disgust to leave the kitchen. His sisters were excited to begin. They were still a bit nervous that they were going to get in trouble. “Are we going to be allowed to wank around our brother; from now on?” Betty’s tone was circumspect – uncertain if this was a trap.

“You want to be able to play with yourselves around Archie?” I asked curiously. I assumed even my cousins would want privacy when they masturbated.

“These two horny twaddles would polish a doorknob with their oily quims if they were allowed to fuck the doors,” Archie answered for the girls that they would love to play with themselves.
[[[ image 07_dirty.jpg goes here centered ]]]

“Ooh, aye, could you imagine being able to back up into a doorknob and have my way with it?” Veronica closed her eyes and imagined the scenario – wiggling her butt like a duck shaking off water after a swim.

“Caw, me on one side of the door, and you on the other, going at it?” Betty flashed a naughty smile as she looked over her shoulder at her sister.

“See what I mean? Usually, when I walk into their room and my horny sisters are fucking themselves, I tell Mum, and she lights up their arses with a paddle. Mum would be beside herself right now that you are indulging the perverted twat-flaps this way.”

It was a bit too late to re-think my contest, and I wanted to watch it. I told Mister Archie that he was free to leave the kitchen if he didn’t want to watch; but that since the girls masturbated anyway, I was going to allow them to do so during a contest. I clapped my hands and told the girls to start singing and fucking themselves.

“Chick, chick, chick ,chick, chicken, lay a little egg for me...” the girls laughed and giggled as they awkwardly slid up bumped their tight butt cheeks for the honor of being the first one to slide down the dildo. “Chick, chick, chick ,chick, chicken, I want some for my tea!” they snickered and laughed.
“Veronica first since she won the last game!” I decided. Betty humped herself down on the dildo, her pink pussy lips enveloping it as she impaled herself about six inches down the shaft and slowed down her singing to give herself more time. Betty kept her ass in contact with her sister’s pussy as she guided herself down along with her – keeping time with the song.

“Hey, she has to sing in time to the lyrics!” Betty pouted. Veronica obliged and continued singing the silly song at the same tempo.

“Now good old Farmer Haystack is the cleverest of men,” Betty and Veronica crowed together, flapping their arms like chickens, snickering and giggling while Betty took a turn on the dildo. “He cuts a rasher off a pig, and he shouts to a hen…”

“Faster!” I said as I spun my hand so that they would increase their tempo – their pussies were dripping, and they slid easily up and down the dildo like pistons firing in an engine.

“A-Chick, chick, chick, chick, chicken, lay a little egg for me. Chick, chick, chick, chick, chicken, I want some for my tea!”

I could see their cute little pussies spread out, and grip the dildo, as their faces became flush with embarrassment and their nipples stiffened. I

“I haven't had an egg since Easter, and now it's half-past three, So chick, chick, chick, chick, chicken, lay a little egg for me,” they sang, flapped, and dipped down and back up on the dildo- taking turns, but keeping their ass cheeks touching.

I could imagine an egg dropping out of their cute asses – it was fascinating watching them take turns fucking themselves. “Faster still!” I directed them.

The girls obliged, picking up the pace, “Now Rip-Van-Winkle woke up after twenty years or more, He found a bird's nest in his beard and shouted out, “Oh..ooh…ooh… Lor'!” Veronica embellished the lines from the song to give herself enough time to wobble and spring up and down on the dildo. Their naughty grins were full of desire – making me extremely turned on.

"Honestly, now!" If Archie was turned on, he didn’t let on. He crossed his legs and expressed his displeasure with the scenario. “Surely, you’ve a plan to humiliate them and not just indulge them?” he asked me quietly.

“How is flapping their arms like a chicken, singing this song, and fucking themselves in front of us not embarrassing?” I asked him in a whisper while never taking my eyes off the girls having fun, taking turns fucking themselves and singing. “Wouldn’t you be embarrassed if the shoe was on the other foot?”

“You keep asking how I’d feel if I were them. I’d never take the bait and do something like this, nor would anyone ask me to pleasure myself at their feet in the kitchen. I’ve too much self-respect and dignity. The only way my sisters might be truly embarrassed getting their rocks off is if only one of them went to do it while the other had to watch.”

“What if that handsome guy Brian Winsome were watching or some of their girlfriends from school?” I asked – watching Betty bob up and down and get into waving her hands like a chicken. The girls were in sync now – helping each other by sliding in time to their song.

“They may care what Brian thinks of them, but who cares what some other chin wagging tart from school thinks about them? Those slags would just as likely wish they were joining these two on the floor, wouldn’t they?”

Archie’s opinion of girls was that they were all horny, attention-seeking tarts without a need for modesty. He may have been correct about a good many of the girls that went to my school. “I am sure that some would be jealous, but others would look down their noses with derision and tease them?”

“Aye, that’s the only thing vacant-eyed gossip machines are good for besides polishing knobs. I am sure my sisters would whinge about their reputations if I invited my mates over to watch them riding their mum’s fanny ticklers. They’d still love the attention, though – look at the brainless hens having the time of their lives squeezing out cum juice on the floor like they are trying to juice two sour lemons.”

“Slow down, much slower,” I moved my fingers in a slow circle. My cousins had worked themselves into a frenzy of frothy cum, taking turns fucking the dildo, and their singing had become eradicated – out of synch and hard to follow.

Betty and Veronica grinned, loving the attention and the pleasurable sensations. “So…chick… chick… chick…..” Betty mused as she slid down on the dildo slowly – giving herself a tingling sensation.

“Remember, you aren’t to cum, you drippy mare,” Archie warned his sister as he sat back and watched the girls fuck themselves in slow motion.

I decided to pick up their toothbrushes. I washed them off in the sink while they continued to slowly fuck themselves. At first, they luxuriated on the dildo as they stretched out their pussies and rode it to the base, and then lost patience as they pressed their butt cheeks together and slid down while their sister satisfied herself.

“You said it yourself, Archie,” I explained as I sniffed the brush to ensure it was clean and didn’t smell like sweaty ass. “Your sisters will be tempted to sneak off and play with themselves all night, but if I let them get off, they’ll be satiated and be easier to manage.”

That hadn’t been part of my original plan. I just wanted an excuse to watch the girls fuck themselves. I initially made them share the dildo because I wasn’t sure if I would get in trouble if my Aunt discovered I let them use a second dildo. They had already used the purple one – so it seemed like the damage was already done.

I slowly squatted in front of Betty and began to brush the pink clit above her hair pussy. Her eyes widened in recognition as she saw that I was going to give her additional pleasure while she fucked herself down on the dildo in the kneeling position. She continued to sing the nursery rhyme like it was second nature. “Chick..chick.. chick…” she sang as she began to instinctively stop flapping her arms like a chicken and moved her hands to help guide the toothbrush.

I slapped her arms away lightly and reminded her to keep flapping. “Speed up a little, that’s it,” I wanted her to feel vulnerable, without control. I could imagine what it would be like if my sister was applying a wet toothbrush to the vein throbbing under my cock while I had to slide up to masturbate myself. The fact that I couldn’t use my own hands would make me feel less in control and uncomfortable.

That feeling seemed to turn Betty on – because she parted her lips invitingly, and a little spit dribbled out in the sexiest way.

“What’s he doing? No fair,” Veronica asked angrily in between lyrics.

“It’s not fair you two gobshite slags get to have a jerk-off session in the kitchen, thank your lucky stars,” Archie teased his older sister. He informed me that nothing could satisfy their level of horniness. “There’s no satisfying slags like Betty and Veronica, is there?" he asked. “You let them hump their quims until they are bruised and purple and then give one of the gobby whores some attention that the other doesn’t have, and they’ll prove it to you.”

I slid over to reach around and use the other brush on Veronica’s clit while Archie continued complaining about the female condition of his sisters. “It doesn’t work like it does for guys. You wind us up until we pop our load, and then we crack on with it. But them?" Archie jerked his head toward the girls, smirking. "You could wind ‘em up all fucking night, and they’d only want more—climbing your leg like a randy mutt, desperate to snatch whatever they think the other one’s got that they haven’t.”

Veronica didn’t deny it. She parted her legs and smiled invitingly as I rubbed the toothbrush bristles on her clit. “Faster sluts,” I instructed.

At first, they didn’t sing any faster. They simply fucked themselves faster on the dildo – taking their time when it was their turn to wobble on the dildo. The chicken song no longer had any connection to the rhythm of their movements.

I loved the musky scent of their pussies, as the two of them hammered themselves down on the dildo like they were driving railroad spikes. I noticed sometimes they slowly slid down around the dildo, and other times they shot down – but they always took their time gliding back up off of it.

My cousin’s tight pussies gripped the dildo like a glove, sometimes pulling itself inside out as their sticky pussy lips clung to the dildo. I realized that neither of them seemed uncomfortable with the idea of being watched, much less sharing a dildo, even though they had both coated it in their own pussy juices.

“Stop!” I insisted. The girls abruptly stopped while their bodies shuddered, and their eyebrows knotted. Betty’s pussy was still wrapped around the dildo, and she writhed a little.

“Betty won that one,” I noted before asking them if what Archie said was true.

“Honestly, I wasn’t listening,” Veronica admitted with a half-laugh, and Betty echoed that sentiment.

“He said that if I wind you up, it only makes you hornier and won’t satisfy you. If I let you play this game, are you going to try to masturbate without permission later?” I asked as I removed the toothbrushes from their clits.

“Oh, um, we’d try not to have a go with ourselves, but it’s hard when you have us so turned on,” Veronica bit her lip, moving one of her hands to stimulate her erect, stiff nipple.

“Aye, Archie’s not wrong when he calls us filthy cows, but please let us keep playing, Mister Dalton. We’ve never played a game like this – and we get to have a proper orgasm at the end?” Betty asked.

“It’s Mister Archie!” he corrected before asking, “What use do naughty girls have with orgasms? It’s not like you have done fuck all around here to deserve one, and now you’ve got Mister Dalton so desperate to keep order that he’s willing to let you two shag yourselves for a promise from two girls that they can keep their hands off their slits? You should have soap in your mouth, and paddles on your arses – that’ll learn you to respect the babysitter.”

“Aye, we should, but we didn’t ask for this, and we didn’t manipulate you,” Betty looked up at me with her bright blue eyes. She was right about that. Her lips were parted in such a way that I could only think about sinking my dick in her throat. I instinctively placed the toothbrush that I had been using to massage her sister’s clit in her mouth, and she accepted it - sucking it like a dick. I did the same for Veronica and instructed them to continue fucking themselves.

They sang a little around the toothbrushes, but both of them sucked so lovingly on them that it felt very much like they were both giving me head. I felt like I could have pulled out my dick and fed it to them. I can’t tell you why I drew the line at that. I was already watching them masturbate and simulate fellatio.

I guess the fact that they were my cousins, and Archie was sitting in the kitchen was enough to dissuade me that I couldn’t just unzip my pants and slide my cock into their cute little British mouths. I used the wet toothbrush on their nipples, slid it between their ass crack, over their assholes and clits, and teased them while they sang the chick-chick song. This round they were far more into it – sexually hypnotic about their movements.

This was sex – or at least sexual. It had long since stopped being a game, or a punishment, or a lesson or whatever it is that I said it was when we began. I was having some sort of sexual experience with my cousins whether we wanted to acknowledge it or not.

I didn’t notice that Archie had left the kitchen, until I felt a stream of water from his water gun hit me in the leg.

“Fuck this,” he said. “You’ve wound these two twat flaps enough,” he started spraying their pussies, tits and faces with water. They giggled and tried to continue fucking until they fell over on the floor, writhing about.

“What are you doing?”

“Hosing these beasts down, they’ve gotten two hot and heavy, and frankly, you have as well. You look like you are about to bend them over the table and have a go. If that’s your aim then have at it, but I’ll not sit here and watch this play out any longer. It’s time to clean them up these twits and hose them down!””

Archie’s determined expression as he pumped his water gun made me laugh. I conceded the game had gone a bit far. The girls didn’t defend themselves very much. Instead, they squeaked, croaked, complained and flopped around like fish on the tile floor while Archie sprayed them down.

“Imagine if I walked around with my hard tally-whacker flopping everywhere, you would know I’m thinking dirty thoughts,” Archie squirted the girls with water mercilessly in their faces, pussies, tummies and legs as they flopped around on the floor and giggled.

“Oh no! we’d have to see your beans and franks, how terrible that would be to have a hard cock about,” Veronica joked – clearly she would have been delighted to see a hard pecker, even if it belonged to her brother. “Everyone has perverted thoughts all the time – we wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”

Archie’s response was to pump his water gun and squirt his raven-haired sister in the face a few times before answering “Not ALL of the time like you lot; you have sex on the brain. You walk around here with your squirty flappers between your legs getting pussy juice all over the floor. Your fishy quim juice is so thick I might slip and fall. You stick your tiny boobs and dirty pooh holes in our faces, like you’ve something to be proud of. Imagine if we crawled about, sticking our dirty bums up in the air! You’d want to spray us down as well!”

Archie sprayed Betty’s ass crack a few times.

“Sorry, we’ll take a bath soon enough, I am sure. We’ve one more game, Mister Archie. Stop, please!” Betty laughed, and held her mouth open, offering her tongue as a target for Archie to squirt with his water gun. “Arf! We know we are dirty slags, with dirty girl parts. There isn’t much I can do about having a pooh hole. If you are going to spray us down, give us a drink then?”

Archie pumped the water gun several times, preparing to squirt it into his sister’s throat. She patiently waited on her knees with her mouth open, and then at the last minute he sprayed her nose and eyes.

“Arrrrr, that wasn’t very nice!” she wiped her face with her bare wrists; but didn’t retaliate.

“It wasn’t meant to be. I got tired of watching you lot fuck yourself on the tile. This isn’t a puppy contest at all. Puppies jump through hoops and over fences, perform tricks, and all you perverted munters have done is behave like sluts.”

“Slut puppies,” I mused. The girls giggled when I said that. I think that I could have said anything at that point and my cousins would have found it amusing. They were in high spirits after the last game, and they regarded me as either an ally; or a dumb putz that was going to let them get away with doing things they weren’t allowed to do. One thing was for sure, they wanted to play the game and see who won.

“We’ve not been asked what we’d be competing in, Mister Archie. You don’t have to spray us down. We’ll have a bath soon enough,” Veronica clarified. Archie squirted her in the mouth, catching his sister in the throat while she was speaking.

“Puppies should be bathed outside with a garden hose, you are lucky all I have is a water gun,” he said.

“Fine, we’ll wash up the puppies as our final game,“ I decided.

“We’ll not have a proper bath?” Betty seemed surprised to hear that.

I smacked her bottom and reminded her that I wanted her to bark and that she was a puppy.

“Can we play until we cum outside? You said the winner of the last contest could have a proper orgasm?” Veronica asked politely before adding a couple yapping barks.

“That was before I knew that if I let you have an orgasm, it would only wind you up and make you want to play with yourself even more,” I said as I clipped an old leash that the neighbor gave us to her collar. I did the same to Betty and directed them to stand up.

“You have a sister, does our cousin Janis play this game at home with you?” Betty asked with a big smile.

I wasn’t prepared for that question. I hadn’t wanted to admit that I was playing this all by ear. I also didn’t want them talking to my sister and finding out that I’d never dare play a game like this with her at home or deny her an orgasm. I wanted my cousins to think that things worked much the same way they did at their house where I lived. I felt like that gave me more credibility, and I had already implied it.

“You lot can clean up the mess you made on the floor,” I changed the subject in a faux-British accent and directed them to grab mops to clean up the water. My cousin’s accents were cheeky, and it was easy to pick them up. “Your cousin Janis is a girl, so what do you think?” I added a vague comment to address the question they asked.

“That’s why I don’t understand why you want to allow my sisters to flaunt their little fannies – you’ve got a full-grown sister at home who’s out of high school. I am sure she is more than a handful,” Archie lamented as he sat down and folded his arms impatiently. He didn’t offer to help the girls clean up the mess that he made with the water gun. Instead, he periodically pointed out spots they missed with the mop and squirted them with the gun.

“As her brother, I’ve got a responsibility to keep order at home. My dad can’t do everything,” I smiled and implied that my father was the disciplinarian. In truth, he was not at all. He was seldom home because he was a traveling salesman and my parents’ marriage was on the rocks. I didn’t mention that though.

“What about your brother Michael. Does he help?” Archie asked.

“Michael is younger than you, but he keeps an eye on the women of the house. It’s our responsibility,” I lied.

“You discipline your mum as well, then?” Archie asked, raising an eyebrow. I noticed that the girls had heard the question and seemed intrigued. I didn’t discipline anyone at all – but I had already lied.

“It’s complicated, she’s a woman just like my Aunt, so obviously she doesn’t have a lot of sense, and needs some direction,” I lied. My mom was one of the smartest women that I’d ever met. She certainly didn’t need or take direction from me. I changed the subject, ordered the girls to put away the mops, refill their brother’s water gun, and then get down on all fours and crawl.

“I should make you sit on those mop handles and bob up and down for listening to my conversation with Archie,” I threatened my cousins. “You’d like that too much!”

“Arf, Arf!” Betty wagged her ass, stuck her tongue out and panted playfully. Veronica was not to be outdone; she did the same thing in response. I led the girls outside in the backyard, surprised that it was still light enough that we could see well.

I had no idea what I was doing or how I was going to do it. I began to hose the girls down with a garden hose while they played in the yard. They barked and yapped with playful abandon – not concerned at all that they might be seen by their neighbors if they looked over the fence.

“Are you not going to use soap?” Archie asked me. I hadn’t thought about it. “The only soap I use on my sister is in her mouth,” I lied. I felt like I may as well make the lie big; because if they ever found out that I was lying, it wouldn’t matter how much I had embellished – just that I had.

“That’s an idea,” Archie ordered his sisters to get the soap from inside the house with a snap of his fingers.

“We’re puppies, and we are soaked, Mister Archie. We’ll track mud into the house,” Betty pouted, dripping wet.

In response, Archie took aim and blasted her with his water gun. “Surely, you don’t expect the men to get it for you? You knew you were taking a bath. You should have asked for soap before we left the kitchen!”

He took aim and ruthlessly sprayed his sisters, directing them to dash into the house to get soap we could use on them. “You slutty whores better be carrying the soap bars between your teeth, and not your gobby shit holes, or quims when you come back!”

“We haven’t talked dirty; or done anything wrong to deserve to have our mouths washed out,” Veronica said as she stood up and jogged behind her sister toward the door of her house – her little tits bouncing as she did.

“Do you see why I don’t try to take charge?” my cousin Archie said that with frustration, adding “What would you do if Janis talked back to you like that every time you asked her to do something?”

“Janis knows that girls carry soap with their mouths and not their hairy quims,” I lied. “She’d be over my knee already for talking back, and then she’d have to stick one bar of soap in her mouth, another in her pussy, and another up her ass!”

“But, you just said that girls don’t carry soap in their quims?” Archie seemed confused, and perhaps a little skeptical of what I just said. The girls on the other hand, seemed scared and impressed – thankful things were not quite that strict at their house.

“Unless they are told to do it, to wash out their cummy snatch,” I clarified. Archie seemed satisfied and marched the girls inside the house.

“Mind your muddy paws and wipe them on the mat,” he laughed.

“My sisters aren’t quite that bad, you know?” he said once they were inside and out of hearing range. “They aren’t true nymphomaniacs. I don’t have to be as strict as you are,” he said as he leaned on his water gun like an old solder on a battlefield. “I am sure when they are older like Janis they’ll be a lot to handle, but I hope you don’t think I am a bad brother.”

“Why would you be a bad brother?” I asked.

“I don’t paddle their arses or boss them about like we are tonight. If I walk into their room and catch them having a wank, I’ll tell mum and let her handle it. I certainly would never think to discipline my mum though. I think she’d probably have a laugh if I even dared to try and raise my voice to her,” he admitted.
“Every household is different,” I patted him on the shoulder with a reassuring wink. I felt a little bad that I had lied about disciplining my sister and mother. There was a distinct possibility he’d meet them and find out the truth. I was tempted to come clean, but the girls were coming back.

“My sisters are lazy, and boy crazy but, I guess I am a little soft on them. I don’t mind doing this when you are here – but I couldn’t keep up with this on a nightly basis. It’s not just a lot of work, I was getting..” he looked over his shoulder to see if they were close.

The girls had just opened the door, and were grinning even though they both had a bar of soap clenched in their teeth. They were far enough away that he could whisper something to me. I leaned down and he admitted, “I was getting proper turned on while they were fucking themselves in the kitchen. I know I shouldn’t because they are my sisters, but I was about to spooge my pants, and that’s why I hosed them down. Do you have dirty thoughts when you discipline your sister and mum?”

“Oh yeah, all the time,” I admitted. I’ve been imagining disciplining my sister and mother as I teased my cousins and felt a dirty thrill every time that I had – along with some guilt, and the realization that Janis and my mother would smack me down for thinking such thoughts. “it’s perfectly natural, it’s part of the responsibility of being a disciplinarian and having to deal with their dirty little quims and arses,” I surmised. I had no idea what I was talking about, but I didn’t want Archie to feel guilty about the same types sexual thoughts that I had about my cousins.

“I don’t just mean normal boner stuff. I mean, I wouldn’t trust myself to do what you made my cousins do at the kitchen table. I was imagining stuffing my cock in their quims, while they rode high on my mum’s dildo, and that’s why I put a stop to the game,” he admitted – with a guilty expression on his face.

“I’d imagine the girls might have liked that,” I whispered back as they approached.

“They’d like pizza for dinner every night, but their fat arses from eating nothing but cheese and bread would pudge them up like fat cows so that no man would have them. You can’t leave things for girls to decide what’s best for them,” he said loud enough for them to hear. Betty and Veronica looked sullen and repentant as they clenched white bars of Dove soap in their mouth.

“You were gone long enough; did you pack your arses and quims with some extra soap?” I asked with a devious grin. The girls looked at each other and shrugged back at me that they hadn’t.

“On your hands and knees, puppies, we’ll scrub you up, and then decide the winner of the game – if it comes down to the prettiest, neither of you munters will win,” I said in a faux-British accent – sounding as much like Archie as I could. I had worked out that munter meant “ugly”.

Betty and Veronica had spritely, cute little faces, and wore a lot of make-up that softened their features. I didn’t think they were ugly at all, but they often said they were in the self-effacing comments they made, and I thought it was appropriate to begin by having them wash their faces.

“Let’s see what ugly dogs you are when you wash off the makeup,” I directed the girls to wash each other’s faces, and only bark from now on. “Your brother and I were just discussing how disgusting and filthy you both are. Let’s see how pretty you look when you have scrubbed off those pounds of makeup that you wear to cover up your natural make up!”

“Arf! You don’t think we are pretty?” Betty looked hurt by my comment. I took Archie’s water gun without asking and sprayed her in the face.

“You can’t follow instructions, cow! What did I JUST say?” I sprayed Veronica to prompt her to speak.

“You told us to..” she started to explain, but I cut her off with a spray to the ass.

“I told you puppies not to talk! A simple bark would have sufficed, Einstein,” I said.

“Einstein, that’s funny!” Archie found my sarcasm humorous, which only encouraged me to tease them more.

“Spread those legs, and wash those quims, you gave them quite a stretching tonight,” I said – forgetting whether quim meant asshole or pussy. The girls started to wash their own with the soap, so I slapped them and made them wash each other’s pussies.
“When you’ve seen one quim, you’ve seen them all,” I bragged to Archie as if I were a pussy connoisseur and found the tiny, wet pleasure boxes we were looking at to be boring and basic. In reality, I could have spent hours staring into Veronica and Betty’s pussies just to notice the different folds and flaps inside their delicate pleasure flowers. “I’d suggest you get a good long look, and then once you’ve done that – you won’t get as turned on when you discipline your sisters.”

I liberally soaked the girls in water with Archie’s water gun and frequently refilled it with a nearby garden hose – that we also used to hose them down. It was getting impossible for the girls.

I quoted my Aunt’s advice from earlier in the night – hoping it sounded familiar enough to Archie that he'd believe I was an old hand at discipline.

“Arf, does Archie fancy us?” Veronica was willing to risk getting splashed with the water hose to ask the question. “Archie? Do we turn you on?” she seemed quite pleased that she made her younger brother uncomfortable with the question. Betty looked flattered as well, and neither girl seemed to mind being hosed down for daring to giggle over it.

“Mister Dalton was just taking the piss,” he glanced at me angrily for revealing his secret to his sisters, before continuing “What would be of interest about two self-absorbed bints like yourselves? Your tits are smaller than your brains, but even you lot can’t be dumb enough to think I’d want to stick my dick into one of your holes even for a joke. We could stick the garden hose directly in your cunnies and never wash the fishy tuna smell out because you are always gagging for cock!”

Betty pouted, and so did Veronica. I heard Mister Johnson on the other side of the fence, laugh and ask if we were washing down our dirty puppies.

“Aye, Mister Dalton let them wank themselves until they tired out, but it only made them randy, so we are outside trying to wash them down.”

Betty waved up at Mister Johnson and offered a playful bark to her neighbor – preening about proudly on all fours while Veronica washed her tits and hair with soap.

“Seems like the more they scrub, the more mud they get on their bodies,” he observed.

“These girls can wash with bleach and a mountain of soap; and never wash off their kind of dirty,” I said pointedly. I was just joking and not trying to have a double meaning, but everyone else took it that way.

A tear formed in Betty’s eye, but she didn’t stop washing her sister’s body while remaining on all fours. “We’re bad sisters and naughty girls, and we aren’t as smart as boys,” she announced defiantly. “What should we do? Pretend we are well-behaved and never have a dirty thought in our heads? Put on airs and pretend to be as smart as Mister Dalton and Mister Archie?”

She was obviously being rhetorical, but Veronica added to her question.

“Aye, we’ve accepted ourselves for what we are – I’ve nothing to be ashamed of for being a girl. It’s proper fun to be a puppy out in the yard, chuck off our clothes, and bark like mad. Why do you have to make us feel guilty for it as well?” she asked while tugging one of her nipples and wiping down her sister’s rump with a bar of soap.

“It’s fun to tease you lot, for being horny wankers, and it’s good you accept what you are – but with that comes a bit of ridicule, yeah? No one would believe it if you put on airs and acted like you were proper. It'd be like a monkey wearing a suit and showing up to work as a banker. Now, come here, puppy,” Archie patted his thighs and summoned the girls over to him. They crawled over on the palms of their hands and knees so that he could pat their heads.

“Teasing is fine,” Betty said as she squealed and cringed while her brother sprayed her bottom with the garden hose. He liked crimping it to build up water pressure and then spraying them hard – especially around their rears and pussies. “Are we having a contest, though? What are we being judged on? Who is the prettiest dog, even without makeup? Which of us lets out the most shrill bark when you spray our arses with ice-cold hose water?”

Her main concern was less about the humiliation she was enduring and simply to know what she’d be judged upon for this contest.

“If it were the best sister, you’d both be in last place,” Archie playfully joked. If the girls had limits or boundaries, they hadn’t let on to what they were. They had been good sports about all of this – but Archie still maintained they weren’t the best sisters.

“If the contest were who is the most full of shit, it’d be a close race, but I think you’d win it, Betty,” He shocked me when he placed the tip of the hose to his sister’s asshole, and un-crimped it. She let out a baleful howl that landed somewhere between surprise and excitement when he released the torrent of water up her ass.

“There is an idea,” Mister Johnson said from behind the fence. “You could give your puppies an enema and see who can hold it the longest.”

“What’s an Aenaema?” Archie had trouble pronouncing the word properly. Veronica put up no resistance, and showed no reluctance to be next. She offered up her rump, so he could spray her butt.

“Put the hose in their sweet little asses, fill it with water, and then have them hold it. The pressure builds up, and washes the shit right out,” Mister Johnson explained pragmatically. I had heard of enemas for constipation but never experienced one first hand.

“No, not all the way up our arses,” Veronica complained, and Betty echoed that sentiment.

“Stop your whinging,” Archie sprayed them in the face with the garden hose and pushed one of the fallen bars of soap into Veronica’s mouth. He looked over his shoulder at the fence where Mr. Johnson was watching. “My sisters are so full of shite that they could have as many enemas as you please, and you’d still never clean it all out. How far up their arses does the hose have to go?”

“Not far, just a few inches,” Mr. Johnson advised. “You could make a game of it – see how long they can hold the water in their backdoor after you take the hose out.”

Archie didn’t ask for permission. He pushed the hose to Veronica’s asshole and let it spray – causing most of the water to spray in every direction and spray anywhere except inside the hole.

“You don’t need a lot of water pressure to get it in – but you have to penetrate the hole,” Mister Johnson instructed. He suggested that I use the water gun but hold it upside down and let it drain instead of pressing the trigger.

“Our arse holes aren’t water balloons,” Betty complained as she backed away. She remained on all fours, but she could have easily stood up and ran off if she really didn’t want to participate.

“Remember that time you lot threw water balloons at me and my mates?” Archie reminded his older sister of a time when she pranked him.

“It’s the final contest, who can hold the water in their arse longer, it looks like Veronica is going to win by default, then,” I assured Betty.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it, Arf!” She barked as she reluctantly turned around and faced her cute little pink pooter at me. I slid the tip of the water gun barrel into her asshole effortlessly. “Oh my! That’s not unpleasant at all,” she cooed and fucked her bottom hole onto the tip.

I pressed the trigger on the water gun, and that made her shake a little, and giggle. “Where is your soap?” I asked, as I noticed that Veronica was quiet because she was still holding a bar of soap in her mouth.

“I don’t know,” Betty replied without looking for it. She lowered her face to the grass, stuck her butt up, and tried to get me to fuck her ass with the water gun.

“if the soap was up your arse, you’d know where it was,” Archie teased. That gave me an idea. At first, I was going to make Veronica hold her soap between her teeth while sticking the tip up Betty’s ass. I

However, Veronica began to spasm and have a small orgasm while she collapsed in the grass, as clear garden hose water shot out of her butt.

“Harr, I win!” Betty shouted triumphantly. It was over far too quickly for my tastes.

“Repeat the enema, and see who can hold it longest – best two out of three,” Mister Johnson suggested. Betty complained, and spraying her in the face with water was only a temporary reprieve. She didn’t complain that she had to get another enema – just that she thought she had already won and wanted an easy victory over her sister.

Veronica spat out her soap, and argued that she had started before Betty and had far more water in her ass than Betty did.

I decided it would be best if the girls couldn’t argue; I directed them to bite the same bar of soap, and face their asses out – alternating so that this time Archie plugged Betty’s ass with the garden hose while I used the water gun on Veronica.

[[[ image 07_water.jpg goes here centered ]]]

I was surprised that the girls took the game so seriously – eyeing each other, face to face, holding the soap just inches from each other’s noses, almost like they were kissing. They growled like puppies as suds dripped from their lips and allowed us to plug their asses with a garden hose, or the tip of water gun while filling them up with water.

The second game was much longer, with Veronica managing to hold the water in far longer. She wanted to gloat, but we didn’t let them take the soap out of their mouth for long.

“You better not get any of your tiny dog turd balls on my shoes!” Archie warned, as he plugged Veronica’s ass with a hose. He asked Mister Johnson if he was still watching.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Mister Johnson sounded like a football fan that was invited to sit at the 50 yard line of the Superbowl. His attention only spurred the girls on, making them grip the soap even more tightly in their mouths. It looked almost like they were locked in a French kiss.

Betty humped my water gun, fucking herself on the barrel – almost daring me to fill her ass with water as she rode it.

“Does this work to get the piss and tuna smell out of their quims?” Archie asked.

“That’s a douche, you could try that next time, but they won’t have any means to hold back the water pressure.”

“My sisters’ arseholes aren’t exactly the tightest backdoors. It’s a wonder the water we pump into their bums doesn’t spray out of their empty heads.”

“You can try corking them on the final round,” Mister Johnson suggested that after we fill their butts with water that we find something to stick in their buttholes to prevent the water from leaking. I saw Betty and Veronica wince a little, but stoically they remained on all fours and continued their contest.

Archie found a brass water hose tip that fit perfectly in his Veronica’s asshole. “There is your dog tail, wag it, puppy!” he laughed.

I couldn’t find anything at hand that would work as a water stopper. Surprisingly, my cousin put her hand behind her after I withdrew the water gun. She plunged a finger into her butt to hold back the water pressure.

The final contest lasted easily two minutes, with both girls struggling to hold back the mounting pressure in their assholes. Betty’s tummy grew and expanded in size as she struggled to hold the water inside her bowels.

“You may as well get used to having a swollen belly; as much as you love cocks and the cream filling that comes with it, you’ll probably be preggers soon enough, you smelly cow!”

We pumped their pussies full of water toward the end of the test of wills. It was a sort of ad-hoc douche, but it was doubtful it did more than make it more challenging for the girls to concentrate and stubbornly prevent their enemas from exploding out of their backdoors. I watched as the water we sprayed inside them washed right back out and down their thighs. The girls began to show signs of pain, pulling apart and releasing the bar of soap; as Betty sprayed the water held in her ass first, followed closely by Veronica.

“You both make better sprinklers than you do sisters,” Archie teased as the girls spasmed and blushed on the ground. “Look at you pathetic tarts shatting out water on the grass!!” he chuckled.

[EddieDavidson]

[EddieDavidson]

[EddieDavidson]

I wasn’t prepared for the girls to laugh and giggle after the final, explosive spray of water squirted out of their asses onto the lawn. They both gloated and declared victory, pointing and preening – asking me and Mister Johnson to declare a winner.

“What about me? I’ve some say in who won,” Archie complained.

“Oh, you’d favor Veronica,” Betty complained.

“She’s always nice to you; I am the one you think is a proper bitch,” Veronica accused Archie of naturally being biased toward her sister at the same time. The girls both laughed when they realized that they both felt Archie would naturally favor the other sister.

“You are both shite sisters, but proper doggies; I’d say that based on the scores, Veronica wins it, but only by the hair on the crack of her arse!” Archie proudly added, “Which is as clean as a whistle now!”

“My bum feels electric like I’ve lost seven pounds,” Veronica wiggled her ass.

“That’s not fair; it came down to who could hold the most water in their shitter?” Betty pouted, still dripping wet, covered in as much as mud as she was suds from the soap.

“I think you should talk less and work on my ribbon for best puppy,” Veronica chided her sister.

"I promised that Betty would get a rematch next time I babysat. “You can practice between now and then with your brother.”

The girls made recommendations for future contests, most involving who was better looking, but some involving the same games that we had just played. We hosed them down as much as we could, and brought them inside, while the two of them trash talked one another.

They insisted on putting makeup back on even though we just washed their faces clean. “Please, Mister Dalton?” they complained.

“Bloody hell, let them paint their ugly faces,” Archie sided with the girls, and they were elated when I gave them permission to re-apply makeup.
“You enjoyed the games then?” I asked as we brought them inside and allowed them to dry off with a towel; the girls were giddy but soaked and blushing from the constant humiliation.

“Are they over, or can we remain as puppies for the rest of the night?” Veronica’s question told me that they enjoyed the games tremendously. I agreed, and the girls dutifully crawled around the living room and kitchen for the rest of the evening. We watched Johnny Carson with them at our feet while Archie teased them.

They tried to talk us into continuing the contests and giving them chances to earn digestive biscuits, but I found that telling them no did wonders toward making them even more eager to continue playing. I think if I had insisted that we continue the games, they might have lost interest quickly – the fact that they had to whine, beg and plead to play – made them both reinforce their constant need to be judged and praised.

Instead, Veronica bragged and lorded it over her sister that she had won, while Betty simpered and whined to be allowed a chance to redeem herself. “If I had known it would come down to who could hold the much water in her bum, I’d have practiced! It’s not fair, is it? Veronica has the bigger bum, doesn’t she?”

“You have the fatter quim, so it all evens out,” Archie teased them. They didn’t seem to mind being put down as long as you offered up a compliment at the same time.

“Yes, she has a fat quim, but Betty has prettier pussy lips,” I said to Archie while we sat on the couch. The girls were eager to crawl and show us their pussies so we could judge them.

“What do you consider a pretty cunny lip?” Archie asked as he sat on the couch and looked down at his sisters, who were both eager to be judged and found pretty – for any category, no matter how vulgar.

“How the pussy lips fold and are so full, very kissable,” I said. Betty smiled up at me, pretty blue eyes beaming as she looked over her shoulder. Veronica, on the other hand, was inconsolable but wagged her pussy to get some recognition as well.

“Caw, you’d kiss Betty’s cunny? Her lips look like stretched-out taffy that’s been pulled one too many times and left out to dry!”

“I didn’t say that I’d kiss my cousin’s pussy lips. I said that between the two girls, they look kissable,” I clarified.

“You two can bugger off and kiss my arse then,” Veronica whined with disappointment.

“You’ve got thin pussy lips, not nearly as puffy and pink as your sister, but I like how your clitoris hangs down and jiggles when you crawl about.”

“You don’t have to worry about their feelings, mate,” Archie laughed and said that I was being kind. “Your puss looks like an old handbag that’s been turned inside out and smells like a cod warehouse that’s got a fresh delivery, and if that little penis that hangs down between your gash is a clit, then I’d say it looks like a chewed-up bit of bubblegum stuck to the pavement,” he said bluntly.

Veronica glared at him, almost prepared to close her legs, when Archie told her to remain as she was so he could have a proper look at her arse. “You have a tight arse crack, but when you relax your bum and stop clenching, the holes not bad ta’ look at. I’d say now that you’ve had your brown eye washed and stretched out, it looks a cute shade of pink, like a twitching rabbit’s nose.”

“You like my arse hole, Mister Archie?” Veronica seemed flattered and pleasantly shocked that anyone would find it attractive. “I clench my arse cheeks so as to be a bit modest; because you’ve said that when we are naked, you don’t like seeing our mud flaps!”

“Well, it’s not so bad now that you had it stretched and cleaned out,” Archie reigned back his compliment. “You don’t need modesty around me – it’s not like you can hide those fart factories fully, anyway – no matter how tightly you try to squeeze your little hammy-arse cheeks together.”

“If you are fine with it, don’t whinge so much when we are naked around the house,” Veronica chided him. “What about you, Mister Dalton? Which of us has the prettier bum hole?” Veronica spread her cheeks with her hands – exposing her asshole to both her brother and me. Betty was aghast but did the same thing to ensure that I had a proper look.

“I would have said Betty before the contest, but that’s because she doesn’t walk around with her ass clenched so tightly, but now that I’ve had a proper look,” I leaned forward and regarded both of their pretty asses and pussies “I’d say that I like the color of Betty’s asshole, and how puffy it is, but I think yours is okay,” I decided to be diplomatic.

That choice didn’t make either girl happy -if anything, it only caused them both to insist that I make a decision in their favor.

“Why don’t you just shag Betty then. Her cunny is the prettiest, and her arse is the sweetest,” Veronica pouted – clearly jealous of her sister. “She’s all smiles and light and I am the bitch with the black hair.”

Betty, on the other hand, wasn’t happy without complete victory and wanted me to clarify that I REALLY liked her arse the best. “You pumped me full of water and got me all excited playing with my backdoor; surely you like my bum the best, Mister Dalton?”

“Carson’s back on, you daft cow! Your bum isn’t anything special to look at,” Archie teased his older sister. “Your fart hole looks like a chewed-up Werther’s Original left in a pensioner’s pocket too long, and the only thing that comes out of it is fart biscuits and poohs; so it’s not like you’ve much reason to be proud of being born with an additional hole you can be buggered in to get your jollies.”

“It doesn’t look like that,” Betty complained and doubled down on showing it to me – spreading her cheeks even wider and asking me what I thought. “I’ve never been buggered either – I can’t help it if playing with my bum gives me pleasure. Yours might as well if you tried.”

“I am not that desperate, you minty cow – now stop asking me which mud hole is less swampy and let me watch the telly,” my cousin laughed at his sisters.

“Can you wink it?” I asked Betty – curious if she could make her asshole pucker up and wink at me. I’d seen the girls do it before, but I assumed it was done involuntarily like a muscle contraction.

“Wink it, how?” she seemed intrigued by the question.

“Every now and then, I’ve noticed the two of you pucker your arseholes; you close and shut them,” I said.

“We do?” that set off a round of questions from Betty and Veronica about whether they were winking their backdoors at me.

“Bloody hell, look what you’ve done, now I won’t hear the end of who can wink the most or the hardest. They won’t be satisfied until one of them can open a beer bottle by gripping it with their shitter,” Archie joked. “I said one nice thing to Veronica about how her arsehole wasn’t awful to look at when she cleans it and gets it stretched out with a few enemas, and you’d think my sisters were suddenly more than just two naughty naked girls on the carpet with little tits, and some stretched out piss and shit holes.”

“Sorry, Mister Archie – it’s just we’re proper bored of Johnny Carson, and the carpet is rubbing our knees sore.”

“Then put on some clothes, sit on the couch, and shut your gobs so I can hear what Robin Williams has to say. You are up way past your bedtime, so count your lucky stars that we are willing to rate which of you two has the better tits or arse during the commercial, yeah?”

The girls were too eager to hear who had the prettier breasts and didn’t want to wait for the commercial. They turned to face us, holding their breasts up, and asked which one had the nicest boobs.

“Caw, here we go, now they want to know who has the nicest ant bites?” Archie feigned outrage, but he enjoyed ranking his sisters just like I did. It was fun because they were so invested in competing with one another. I didn’t want to be accused of playing favorites, but the girls were never satisfied when I said that they were equally impressive.

They also liked it when I created several categories like the prettiest, biggest, sweetest, or most kissable, but they both sought the approval of being the overall winner in whatever category they were being rated on.

“Veronica has the sexiest tits,” I observed casually – which started a new firestorm of questions and excitement. I hadn’t used the word “sexy” to describe my cousins until that moment, and suddenly, that was the most sought-after accolade.

“Sexy, how? She’s got the same baby boobs as I do,” Betty pouted, while Veronica crowed with enthusiasm for being named sexiest tits.

“How can you say anything about Veronica being sexy?” Archie asked. “Her tits look like two apples with fucking knitting needles sticking out." He raised his fingers to his own chest and pointed them straight out to exaggeratedly mock his sister’s stiff nipples sticking out.

“My nipples don’t stick out like that,” Veronica pouted and downplayed their stiffness.

“That’s why they are so sexy; the nubs are always stiff – like Veronica has twin hard-ons jutting out of her tits at all times, and she’s ready to fuck,” I observed.

“Caw,” Veronica opened her mouth wide in shock. I thought I may have finally hit the point where my barbed insults and observations about my cousins’ bodies had gone too far. However, Veronica’s feigned outrage was her reaction to being incredibly flattered. “Do you fancy stiff nipples then? They are embarrassing in a sweater at school, always sticking out like pencil erasers. Do boys like hard nipples?”

“We might if they weren’t attached to a dim-witted munter with tits the size of boiled eggs and the smell of desperation for cock dripping off of her,” Archie added.

“I was asking Mister Dalton,” Veronica blushed, clearly mortified by his description of her. She hardly seemed desperate or ugly when I arrived, but now I knew my cousins were little nymphos with sex on the brain.

“Are your nipples hard because you are turned on, or do they just hang stiff like that naturally?” I decided not to answer her question – and ask one of my own. I noticed that frequently frustrated the girls but made them all the more eager for me to talk to them.

“I don’t rightly know; I’ve always got sex on the brain,” she admitted as she tugged her nipples a few times like she was jerking off two small penises.

“What turns you on more, rubbing your clit, tweaking your nipples, or fucking yourself on your mom’s dildo?” I asked. Veronica and Betty were both extremely excited to ponder the question, but Archie wasn’t having it.

“Oi, I can’t hear the telly, and if you get these two gits started on this topic, they’ll be up when mum gets home, with quims dripping. They should have been put away in bed hours ago!”

“What time is everyone’s bedtime?” I asked, suddenly remembering that I was technically the babysitter. I was having so much fun teasing the girls and watching them beg for compliments that I had forgotten that was my role.

“Girls in bed by 9 pm; I’ve no bedtime, but I usually go to bed after Carson,” Archie explained that he usually watched from the television in his room.

“Some of our babysitters let us stay up a little later,” Betty pleaded, but when I questioned her, she said that it usually was only about 10 pm and it was well past 11pm now.

“It isn’t a school night. Is your mum really going to be mad if you are up when she gets home?” I asked. My parents wouldn’t have cared if I was up late on a weekend, but my mom generally expected me in bed by 9pm on school nights as well. I didn’t mention that, though.

“That depends; are you really going to make us tell her we wanked off with her toothbrush, and had a go with her dildo? You let us do it the second time, after all,” Betty asked.

“I fully expect you to confess what you did, and I’ve no problem telling your mom that I punished you by making you masturbate with it in front of us as part of your punishment,” I lied. I wasn’t sure just how far my Aunt was going to be comfortable with me going with her daughters. I knew she was okay with paddling their butts. I wasn’t so sure about the enemas, puppy contest, or any of the other things that I had done with them.

“We could agree not to tell mum you gave us pizza and digestives; so she won’t be mad at you for spoiling us, if you could find it in your heart not to mention playing with her toy? You can tell her what we did with the toothbrushes, but she’s not going to have a fit that we messed with her toys,” Veronica offered.

“Yeah, we want you to keep being our babysitter, she’ll think you are soft on us if she finds out you allowed us to have pizza and play at being puppies all night,” Betty warned.

"Oh, I know what you two gashes are like," Archie scoffed, folding his arms and shaking his head. "You two slags couldn’t tell the truth if it was stapled to your fucking foreheads. You’d spin a tale so sweet, you’d have Mum thinking you were a pair of fucking nuns caught up in a misunderstanding."

Veronica and Betty looked down at the carpet in defeat.

He grinned coldly, nodding toward me. "But don’t worry, Mister Dalton—if these two try to water it down, I’ll be right there to set the record straight. They can cry, pout, bat their little lashes all they like, but I’ll make sure Mum knows precisely what went on. I wouldn’t let these lying little tarts talk their way out of a paper bag, let alone this if I were you -this week it’s pizza, next week they’d expect you to give them cheeseburgers, cake and fizzy pops. Now thank Mister Dalton and off to bed with you sluts. "

“We’ve been well behaved for the most part, and we normally don’t get treated like stars with this much attention, thank you for the fun night, Mister Dalton,” Betty stood up and hugged me – her hard nipples pressed into my shirt as she lingered for a while bending over me while I sat on the couch.

“Aye, I know you are probably still miffed. We were testing you when you first arrived to see if you’d let us get away with masturbating. I had no idea you were going to be so creative and think up games for us to play on your own. You’ve been the best babysitter we ever had,” Veronica hugged me even harder, pressing her hard nipples into my chest even more firmly than her sister, bending over at the couch.

“Tug him off while you are at it then,” Archie teased the girls that they may as well play with my dick, because they were making it so obvious that they wanted to be touched before the end of the night.

“We were just giving our cousin a hug good night,” Betty hugged Archie much the same way as she had me -wrapping her arms tightly around him and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “I am sorry I am not a better sister. Tonight was the first time you’ve ever whinged about it like that,” she said as he struggled to get her to release him from the tight hold.

“I say it all the time to you lazy munters, but you don’t listen,” he said as he wiped off the kiss with a shrug. I noticed it was the first time he blushed. I don’t think Betty noticed the erection in his pants as he crossed his legs awkwardly.

“We hear you complain about it when we forget to make your bed, or are slow with your tea, but we just thought you were having a laugh. I am sorry too, Mister Archie,” Veronica held wrapped her arms around his neck, and held him close, looking him in the eyes as she apologized profusely. “Do you really want us to keep calling you Mister Archie even when Mister Dalton is not here?”

“It does have a proper ring to it, doesn’t it?” Archie extricated himself from his older sister’s tight grip. “You can call me that at home, but not around my mates or at school; it’d be embarrassing.”

“For who? You or them?” I laughed. Betty and Veronica’s eyes darted over to me when I made the quip, but they didn’t laugh.

“What difference would it make if it humiliated my sisters? My mates know they are horny little twats. Betty and Veronica have tried to shag all of them.”

“That’s not true,” Veronica corrected. “We haven’t had a go at that skinny lad that picks his nose and has a lisp,” she corrected.

“You sucked him off behind the bleachers at homecoming,” he corrected.

“Oi, well that’s true,” Veronica stuck her finger in her mouth, as if she had forgotten. “It was proper dark, and we went round and round on all your mates. It was just a blowjob, though, and it’s not like we singled him out to flirt with and tease.”

“Do you give a lot of blowjobs?” I asked. I had been hard all night, but now my cock twitched in my pants even stiffer than usual.

“These two would gobble a homeless beggar’s knob if he pulled his cock out and let them have a go,” Archie answered for his sisters. They didn’t deny it – even smiling like they were proud of it.

“I’ve a bit of an oral fixation, and mum says that it’s better than getting preggers,” Betty admitted with a blush.

“Aye, I’m not about to let Betty have a taste of all the cock. I’d rather ride a prick than suck it, but I’m not going to say no to having a few licks of a man’s bulging todger, if he offers it.”


My cousins were so self-effacing and openly unabashed about the fact that they liked to suck dicks, that it made me even hornier to think about them licking my cock. “Do you like big todgers?” I assumed that a todger was slang for a penis.

“Mate, they like bellends that are crooked, small, medium, large, long, curved, black, white, Mexican, it doesn’t matter as long as it’s got two balls swinging, and it fits in their gobby mouths. These randy sluts will polish any knob presented for a taste of cock sauce,” Archie said as if it was an insult and he was disappointed in his sisters.

“If it’s just a blowjob, I wouldn’t say no,” Betty admitted but added defensively “I’ve turned down men who wanted to shag me though plenty of times.”

“When?” Archie asked – “if a man had a fiver and a hard pecker, you’d say no to taking a hard one up the arse?”

“I’ve never been buggered up the arse by a cock,” Betty reached behind herself and held her butt as if she was protecting it. “The biggest I’ve ever had in my bum was the garden hose and that was tonight.”

“You liked it though, didn’t you?” Archie asked with a knowing sneer.

Betty released her butt cheeks and looked down, her cheeks still blushing. “It was exciting, but a bit painful. Once it was up my arse, it wasn’t so bad. If you are going to give us more enemas, take your time and don’t be so rough.”

“Yeah, Mister Dalton was gentle, but you just rammed the hose up our arsehole,” Veronica agreed. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she thought back about her experience.

“I’ve walked into your room when you were having a rough fiddle with your dirty bums,” Archie countered that they were being overly critical of him. “You didn’t complain when the hose was filling your cracks, and you were getting all the attention from Mister Dalton and the neighbor. Fine, I won’t give you an enema again. It was like jamming a pool cue into a pint of mushy peas, and didn’t do anything for me.”

“We didn’t say you couldn’t put the hose in our bums,” Betty replied sweetly. “Just maybe grease up our backsides before you take us outside. It was fun, and you are right – it wasn’t particularly pleasurable to you, but I’d like a chance to redeem myself. I’d never tried to hold back a tide of water in my bum before. I didn’t know that was even possible. The pressure slowly building up in my backdoor and then blasting out – while you lot watch me was hot.”

I was amazed that Betty said it was exciting – I assumed they had simply endured it. “What did you think of it, Veronica?”

“Don’t make me blush,” her cheeks were red as she looked down with embarrassment “Yeah, I mean it was proper fun, and I am still tingling in my backside from the feeling. Are you going to tell Mum every detail of the game or just that we were puppies?”

“Why would I keep any of the details from your mum?” I asked, accidentally saying Mum instead of Mom because it felt more natural to use their terms by this point in the evening.

“She knows we like to play outside naked in the mud and get dirty with Mister Archie, but we’ve never done anything quite that extreme outside. She may say we can’t keep doing it because it’ll stretch out our bums.”

“Mum’s probably going to be mad that you let us have orgasms; and masturbate in the kitchen, she’s not keen on girls having a wank whenever we like,” Betty clarified that was the real reason Veronica was reluctant for her mother to know.

“Mum’s going to find out if she steps outside when I give you enemas in the future, but if you complain I am too rough on your stretched-out starfishes and don’t treat your fart-makers like dainty flowers, or pooh flies out of your bums and hits me on the shoes then I am going to just stick with having you eat mudpies and leave it at that.”

“You eat mudpies?” I asked.

“Yeah, Mister Archie hoses off a section of the yard; and puts us face down in the mud and makes us grovel like piggies. We call it eating mudpies, but we don’t actually eat mud, not much of it, anyway,” Betty admitted with chagrin.

“What kind of games do you play with your sister? Do you give her enemas in the yard?” My cousin Archie asked eagerly. He clearly expected me to do something very debauched and deviant to my older sister.

“We are a bit too old to play in the backyard,” I admitted. My sister was already out of high school, but she had never played with me in the backyard – at least as far as I could recall.

“What games did you use to play, Mister Dalton? How long can our cousin Janis hold an enema back for?” Veronica asked excitedly – ready to measure herself against a cousin she’s never met.

“Oh, the enemas?” I pretended that it was a regular thing at my house. I’d seen enema bottles for sale in drug stores, but had no idea how they were used. “She gets those in the bathroom, and she has to hold them for five minutes – makes her belly proper swell up like a piggy,” I said in a faux-British accent that didn’t quite land as authentic.

The girls and Archie laughed about it though. “You are taking the piss?” Veronica laughed hysterically about it. “Five minutes? On a timer? There is no way, her arse would explode long before that!”

“Lots of practice, and my sister has a bottomless, wide, arse hole,” I said. I imagined my sister’s angry face leering at me for daring to theorize.

“It’s probably stretched out like a drainage ditch by now, she’s older than you slags, so she’s probably been buggered nine ways to Sunday,” Archie theorized about my sister.

“Let’s get off my sister and make room for all the lads that are having a go with her tonight. Why do you think she couldn’t be here to babysit?” I laughed at my own joke.

“Do you think our cousin could babysit us?” Veronica asked with the tone of someone who was turned on by the idea. “Does she prefer cunnies to cock?”

“Do you?” I asked, hoping that I wasn’t blushing as I thought about my sister’s reaction to any of this.

“Every female babysitter we’ve ever had makes the girls lick their cunny before the night is over,” Archie admitted. “We call it story-time.”

“Story time?” I asked.

“Aye, older women are just as horny as us younger girls; they like little tongues on their clits just as much as we do. They tuck us in bed, and as a courtesy, we usually kiss their cunnies. We never get babysat by attractive young women, though – so it’s always old biddies with grey-haired gashes who want us to snog their fannies as a favor before they leave for the night.”

“Does your mum..er..mom…er mum, know you go down on your babysitter?” I asked nervously.

The girls and Archie found my discomfort to be endearing and amusing. They didn’t see anything wrong with what they did at the end of the night – so they found it charming that I was so befuddled.

“Don’t worry, they’ll gobble your knob if that’s what you are after,” Archie declared bluntly.

“When our brother says we are made to do a little fanny feasting on our babysitter, that’s not quite true. We enjoy licking quim almost as much as we do a little cock gargling; it’s just. Usually they aren’t young and lovely and taste like cod that’s been left out in the sun for a few days,” Veronica clarified, her blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

“It’d be nice if they return the favor, but they never do,” Betty admitted with a look like she was starved for sexual satisfaction.

“You think that old Mrs. Grundy would let you sit your dripping quim on her face, do you?” Archie asked incredulously.

“Wait, I thought Mrs. Grundy was the prude who wanted you to bathe with your clothes on,” I asked, remembering my Aunt’s explanation about past babysitters.

“Aye, we tried to seduce her, but she wouldn’t have any of it,” Veronica admitted.

“Wait, I thought she was in your room for hours when she babysat. You mean to tell me she was reading you Paddington bear and giving you a proper tuck in?” Archie seemed skeptical.

“She lectured us on how we were amoral sluts,” Betty explained like she wished the dour old woman had wanted more.

“Wasted words on dirty harlots like you two,” Archie shrugged it off as the credits on Johnny Carson rolled. “Oh quite, I’ve missed the entire show talking about how you two gobble girl’s piss flaps as a hobby.”

“Sorry, Mister Archie,” Betty and Veronica apologized and asked while feigning yawns “Do you want to read us a bedtime story, Mister Dalton?”

“Go on then; get your cock drained. I am sure these two naughty cows talking about eating out old women has made your pecker hard as a rock, yeah?” Archie joked sarcastically.

“I don’t want to take advantage of my position as babysitter,” I began to mumble, and blush. I felt put on the spot, because it was obvious that my cousins meant to suck my dick and everyone in the room knew it.

“We’ve been noticing your bulge all night, it’s a wonder you don’t have blue balls in the morning,” Veronica stood up and took my hand. She still wore the blue dog collar she had on from earlier.

“I am your cousin, so it probably wouldn’t be proper,” I said as Betty took my other hand insistently to lead me to her room.

“It sounds funny when you try to talk like us,” Betty observed with a giggle that I had been picking up her British accent. “I don’t know why anyone would want to sound like a daft British twit from Surrey, the American accent is so much more sexy,” Betty said, trying but failing to talk like she was from America.

“You may as well go with them and flash your pud and let them give it a loving snog and a tug,” Archie suggested without making eye contact with me. “If you don’t tuck them in, they’ll whinge until they see you again that you ignored them like Brian Wingate, and as far as being their cousin – I don’t think that matters much to them. They’ll snog each other’s quims just as readily as they will have a lick of your pecker.”

“We don’t,” Betty blushed profusely – finally, there was something that genuinely embarrassed her.

“I’ve caught you two waggling your grubby little fingers in each other’s gashes like a couple of third-rate street performers performing a Punch and Judy show; don’t tell me you don’t swap spit when you are sharing that filthy little bed of yours.”

“Fair enough,” Betty admitted with the look of someone who was truly mortified. “We have a go now and again with each other, but it’s not like we are full-on lezzy for each other or anything,” she said, looking at the floor – also wearing the pink dog collar and nothing else.

“Your sisters can’t help the fact that they are horny dimwits,” I said to Archie. It felt wrong to insult my cousins like that. I had teased them all night, but I hadn’t used a term like dimwits before. They didn’t protest; if anything, the girls gripped my hands more tightly.

“Please don’t tell mum about that bit, okay? She’s not keen on sisters sharing spit,” Veronica pleaded with me. “She will look the other way when we have a tussle and tickle one another, but the last time she caught us going at it together, she lit our asses..arses… up like an American Fourth of July…” Veronica said, correcting herself with a giddy laugh. “You’ve got me saying asses, like an American, now.”

“It sounds so silly, doesn’t it? Asses?” Betty mused as she led me down the hallway with her sister to her room.

“It sounds naughtier than arse,” Veronica admitted as she walked into her room. I started to close the door, but they told me that they weren’t allowed to close it. I stepped into their cramped little bedroom, barely bigger than a laundry closet. The walls pressed in close, giving the whole space a tight, suffocating feel. Against one wall sat a tiny blue bed, the mattress single-sized and barely enough for a grown adult to stretch out on. It looked neat enough, but small—almost childish in size.
A short, rickety dresser stood in the corner, its surface bare except for a few scuff marks and a single stray sock. The closet was half-open, revealing a small handful of hanging clothes, some skirts, a couple of blouses, nothing excessive. But on the carpet, carelessly tossed near the foot of the bed, were a few pairs of panties—not exactly dirty, but not exactly put away either. The girls bent over and quickly apologized as they picked them up and stuffed them in one of the dressers without sorting them. “We were meant to clean our room, but we didn’t get a chance tonight!”

Above the bed, a lone painting of a saint stared down, its colors faded with time, the frame crooked as if it had been knocked loose and never fixed. The whole room felt functional, stripped-down—no real decorations, no personal clutter. Just small, spare, and lived-in.

“Who is that in the picture?”

[[[ image 08_bed.jpg goes here centered ]]]

“Saint Edward the Confessor,” Veronica acted as if I should know that. “Not much of a king, not much of a warrior,” gazing up at the painting, her voice almost wistful. “He was a saint, after all. A man of faith, of righteousness. He sat, listened, forgave. Took in every wicked little secret, every shameful whisper, and still—he remained good. A man to be served, to be obeyed, to be worshipped.”

Her fingers traced absentmindedly along the edge of the frame hung on the wall, a small, self-effacing smile tugging at her lips. "I suppose back then, women knew their place better. Confessing, repenting, serving—on their knees, not out of defiance, but devotion. Not that we’re much different now, really. In our little village in Surrey, Saint Edward is the patron of our church.”

“Women sin, and we need to be put in our place and confess for the naughty things we do,” Betty added, fondling her breasts as she did while looking at me. “Aunt Sheridan’s picture above the bath tells us you were probably raised to believe the same things, yeah? That girls need watching over. That we can’t help ourselves, really. Always getting caught up in our own wicked little urges, always needing someone to set us straight.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. I felt like the girls were laying it on thick, but it seemed like they genuinely believed what they were telling me. I started to sweat.

She sighed, almost amused at herself, fingers idly toying with a damp strand of hair. "It’s not like we mean to be trouble; it is just our nature, we are too silly to make the right choices, too greedy not to take what we shouldn’t, and far too weak to resist when we know better. I suppose that’s why men like him existed, yeah? To keep girls like us in line, make sure we remember our place."

Veronica added “Not that discipline ever really works. The more we get spanked, the more we misbehave, the more we need it," she admitted with a twinkle in her eyes. “You aren’t interested in ancient history though, are you, Mister Dalton?”

“I was just testing your knowledge of the Saints,” I lied awkwardly and told them to get ready for bed. I was genuinely trying to resist my incredible desire to fuck both of them. They were so self-effacing, and being alone with them in their room was making me so horny. I felt guilty about my desires because they were my cousins, and I was supposed to be babysitting them. I knew they’d probably let me go that far with them – but it felt like I’d be taking advantage of them.

“Do we have to put on our nighties, or may we sleep in the nude?” Betty asked excitedly.

“Oh yes, can we, Mister Dalton?” Veronica echoed the request, asking if she could continue to wear her light blue collar to bed as well. “It matches my hair bow, and it’s so cute!”

“I almost forgot I had mine on,” Betty giggled as she touched the latex pink collar around her neck. She was already in the bed, bare-ass.

“Will I get in trouble for allowing you to sleep nude?” I asked them.

“She doesn’t usually mind if we are naked in the house,” Veronica told me as she climbed in the tiny bed with her sister. “It was exciting when you told us we had to strip at the door no matter who was here, but I knew mum wouldn’t allow it ALL the time, especially if Archie has his mates over.”

“You would like to be naked all the time if you could?” I asked as I watched the girls snuggle into the small bed together. I was surprised that they had pillows because they didn’t have a top sheet. It seemed like Betty and Veronica were ready to kiss and make out as soon as they got comfortable.

“Oh aye, wouldn’t it be grand to be naked all the time? back home in Surrey, we could strip off all day working on the farm, but Americans are a bit more prudish than we thought they would be. You have Rock and Roll and Hollywood, but a lot of people are uptight about girls being naked. We probably couldn’t even go topless around a public pool?”

“No, it’s not usually permitted,” I assured them.

“That’s so odd. I would understand if we had great big flappy hang-down udders, but we’re just girls. It’s not like anyone hasn’t seen nipples. Do you really think mine are sexy?” Veronica fiddled with her nipples, stroking them.

“You girls are trying to seduce me,” I said, backing away a few steps.

“You’ve been so sweet to us,” Betty smiled. “You could have been strict and paddled our arses for all the shite we pulled earlier; instead, you let us have fun playing at being a puppy, have pizza and biscuits, and gave us all this attention. We’ve no proper way to show gratitude, and we’ve been admiring your bulge – what would be the harm in letting us give your cock a few kisses?”

I could feel my heart in my throat. I’d never turned down a blowjob before because I’ve never been offered one. I was trying very hard to resist their offer, but it was growing increasingly difficult. I changed the subject.

“Your bed is so small, why don’t you have a sheet?” I asked.

“We have a sheet for our sweaty bums and snail trails,” Veronica pointed to the thin white sheet she was lying on with her sister.

“A top sheet?” I asked.

“That’s for men or women, we’re not permitted a top sheet,” Betty told me like it was so self-evident that it was just common sense. “We’d get up to all sorts of naughtiness if we could close our door and pull up the covers over our quims. Does your sister sleep with a sheet?”

“Aye, does cousin Janis have pizza and get to have biscuits every night?” Veronica asked excitedly.

I wanted to come clean with them and admit that my sister didn’t have any restrictions like that at home. They might eventually find out, but the looks on their face told me that they would be heartbroken if they lived a far more austere and disciplined life than my sister.

“It’s quite a bit stricter where I live. My sister sleeps in a dog cage in the living room, where we can watch to make sure she isn’t masturbating. We kick it to wake her up in case we want her to make us something in the middle of the night.”

I felt like my lie was so far over the top that they might call bullshit. Their pretty blue eyes grew wide with shock and disbelief. “Is she allowed to be naked ALL of the time then?” Betty’s tone suggested she was jealous – not sympathetic to her cousin’s plight.

“She doesn’t have a choice in the matter, we keep her naked, so she has no privacy, and we make her shave her quim.” I said – using the British word for pussy.

“Completely bald?” Veronica seemed aghast but at the same time excited. I saw her hand instinctively dip down to her pussy.

“Aye,” I said before realizing I sounded ridiculous. “We don’t want her getting uppity, and it’s meant to keep her cunny on display at all times – so we can ridicule how big and fat it is.”

“You and your father?” Betty asked.

“My father, my brother, any man that comes over. The repair man was over at my house fixing my television and I asked him if he had ever seen a gash as fat and wide as my sister’s cunny, and made her hold it apart for his amusement,” I lied. I was turning myself on with this outlandish tale of unnecessary humiliation and clearly shocking the girls.

“Why were you so nice to us then?” Betty asked. Her fingers ran down to her pussy, diddling herself softly.

“Would you rather I treat you like my sister?” I replied.

“I wouldn’t prefer to be made to hold my cunny open wide for a television repair man while he has a laugh about how fat it is,” Betty admitted, clearly taking me at my word for how things were at my house. I was probably going to hell for my lies. “I’ve always wanted to shave my fanny like mum does, but I didn’t know it was meant to humble a girl. I thought it would be sexy.”

“It would be far less sweaty not to have a thicket of brown hairs covering my quim,” Veronica added. “We appreciate the restraint you showed. Archie’s never taken much interest in us, but tonight he really gave us a hard time. If he knew how it was for your sister, he’d probably want that for us.”

“Would your mum allow it?” I asked, using the word mum naturally for mom.

“I don’t properly know, Mister Dalton,” Betty admitted. “When you told us your sister slept in a dog cage, I got excited. I think it would be novel for a few nights, and I’m sure it’d make us appreciate this little bed we’ve got to share all the more. It sounds like you treat her more like a jester to be held up to ridicule and a family pet than a sister though.”

“What’s the difference?” I asked as if I really believed there was none.

“Aye, we’ve got to be better sisters for Mister Archie. Mum warned us that Aunt Sheridan is far stricter and doesn’t tolerate the kind of nonsense we pull,” Veronica added.

“Poor cousin Janis,” Betty shook her head sympathetically “She doesn’t have a sister to share the humiliation with. I don’t think I could take the constant teasing if it were just me, and I had TWO brothers to have a laugh at my fat fanny and little tits.”

Betty wasn’t terrified, but she looked nervous -as if she was imagining a life of discipline in the fictional household I had described.

“What do you mean? I bet you would love the attention,” I smiled. “We love our sister, we just have to keep her in her place, and sometimes that means paddling her arse and knocking her ego down a peg or two.”

I moved closer to the girls and kissed them both on the forehead, resisting the temptation to do more than brush their nipples with my hands – making it seem like an accident. “I know you want to suck on my cock, but just as I tell Janis when she begs for it - you haven’t earned it, and you need to behave yourself. I want you two sluts to go to sleep and not stay up all night kissing and wanking off. I’ll be by to check on you while you sleep, and if I catch you – then you’ll be strung up by your quims in the kitchen like Scarecrows until your Mum decides you’ve learned your lessons,” I warned them sweetly. I had no idea how I’d manage such an arrangement, and I had no intention of even attempting to keep my promise.

The girls didn’t complain or call after me as I stepped out of the door, flicking the light off behind me as I left. I was tempted to go back in and get my blowjob; or do even more with my cousins. “I expect you to have your toothbrushes up your arses at breakfast tomorrow and confess to your mum every naughty thing that you did like she was Saint Edward.”

I was conflicted about being a good cousin who didn’t take advantage of horny young girls that wanted to please me. They told me that they thought they enjoyed sucking dick and saw it as a way to express their gratitude for a fun night. I felt foolish as I entered my Aunt’s room and undressed to get into her bed. It smelled good – like my Aunt’s perfume and hair spray.

I usually slept in pajamas, and I assumed that she’d come home shortly and take me back home. I decided I’d jerk off, and that would help me with the constant sexual thoughts about my cousins. It didn’t.
The first time I whacked off, I came so quickly that I was glad I had refused to oblige my cousins. I would have shot my load in under thirty seconds. I remembered them saying something derogatory about guys
who cum too quickly. I cleaned myself up, and had a much longer, more exhausting “wank” – smiling as I tried to take stock of the many British vulgarities and crass words I had learned that evening.

I consoled myself that if everything went well, I’d have another opportunity to babysit my cousins and the next time, I may not feel as conflicted about using their pretty mouths as a cum receptacle. I concluded that my decision not to take them up on their offer to go down on me had more to do with being bashful than it did with any desire not to take advantage of them.

If the girls really sucked cock as frequently as they claimed, then I shouldn’t have felt guilty about it. The simple fact was that I was still a virgin even though I was a Senior in high school, and I had always been too shy to approach girls and ask them out on dates. I’d never thought to ask girls as young as Betty and Veronica out, but I wouldn’t have approached them – they seemed too cute for the likes of me.

It seemed surreal that they would care what I thought about them and even desire me. I wondered if the girls would gush about me the way they had Brian Winsome when I was gone.

I also didn’t have a car, and I didn’t think my mother would loan me hers. Janis had a car, and if she were really the trampy slut that I treated as a house pet, I would have just taken hers. However, that was an entirely fictional scenario, and I lamented the fact that soon I’d be dropped back into the “real world,” where women are treated with equal rights and permitted modesty.

I was tempted to go and check on my cousins to see if I could catch them while they were masturbating.

The simple fact was that I was tired after whacking off twice and afraid I may have to follow through on my promise to “string them up by their quims,” and I had no inkling what they would involve. I decided to masturbate furiously one last time. I wanted to empty my balls of semen completely, and along with it would go all my nasty, naughty, depraved thoughts about the things I might have done with my cousins tonight.

I didn’t finish masturbating for the third time, and I don’t remember falling asleep in my Aunt’s bed. I had the nastiest wet dreams of my life, full of filthy thoughts and perverted desires -my cock buried deep in a wet pussy.