Cousins don't need modesty (added ch5)

[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]

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