Cousins don't need modesty (completed)

[EddieDavidson]

as far as I am concerned the story is complete, but I kept adding into the next day -and so what will follow is basically "bonus" chapters.



I love the Archie/Veronica style comics - creating them has been fun, especially putting little Easter Eggs into them.

[EddieDavidson]

I have about an hour or two left of this story left to write up, and then edit - so maybe two more chapters and a few illustrations. Then I'll finish up my Christmas story. I thought if I stop now on this one, i'd let it languish as I have with the girl scout/christmas story.

Did anyone really dig the Girl Scout story? I have more of it written, but I put it away.

I have a pony girl training story that I want to complete - popular on SOL, probably wouldn't be interesting to most here. Ever since my big blow up with the trolls, people don't really talk to me much anymore.

I was going to write something more down to earth - a story set in the 1970s. all i know so far was that the older sister looks like Lynda Carter. Do you remember the older sister on little house in the prairie? those bright blue eyes and spankable ass? Something kind of low-key with tree forts, tie up games in the woods, pranks and practical jokes in a trailer park - nothing very over the top.

I'd like to do more "modesty" stories - but I think I didn't quite get the "feel" for writing them up properly. I don't know - I enjoy the world of it though. Basically, it's like the 1970s parental attitudes - back then, parents wouldn't think twice about taking down your britches and spanking you in public, or letting you run around in the yard in panties/underwear, or even having a neighbor/parent of another kid you are staying overnight spank you if you threw a tantrum.

Only difference in modesty world - is it applies only to girls. That's what I was going for. A world where the women's movement/suffrage never took hold, and women are treated pretty much as they have been for the 2000 years before the 1970s.

If you ever watch old episodes of "Mad Men" and watch the women in the secretary pool say things like "You'll never bag a husband looking like that" and "The best you can do is secretary to a handsome executive, honey." that's sort of the vibe I was going for.

However, I did have a new idea recently - Sister has "amnesia" - she's bratty/assy/sassy -bitchy older sister and no one else in the family realizes she's been basically "reset"

Do you remember that movie "Overboard" with Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell - in that one, rich "Karen" who gave him a hard time is so awful - no one comes to claim her - so he does and convinces her she's the mom of three brats, and she perserveres and turns out to be much nicer/better with the reset.


Same idea of the sister, except no one else in the family knows the reset happened -
"Yeah, you always let me watch you masturbate"
"I do?"
"Yeah, you like to talk dirty and finger yourself, you don't even remember that, sis?"
"no, how often do I do that?"
"Anytime you can - you call me up here and we pretend to be studying"

Except maybe after indulging himself, he feels guilty like Kurt Russell did, or maybe she's for the better because of it - maybe the twist at the end is she never had amnesia and has been having a laugh the entire time.

I just thought i'd throw that idea out there - brainstorm a little. I should finish the current stories I have before starting something new, but it's exciting to think about new projects. The last bit of a story is like toothpaste. You have to squeeze and squeeze to get a little bit out and when you do it's never enough anyway.

[EddieDavidson]

I awoke to the familiar and sweet smell of my aunt’s perfume and hairspray. It took a moment for me to realize that I had my arms wrapped around her naked body, embracing her, my face buried in her long, straight blonde hair, my nose touching her sexy neck.

I was abjectly terrified and panicked as I realized that I wasn’t just holding my aunt tightly; I had my cock buried in her ‘quim’, and she was sound asleep. I didn’t know what time it was, but my Aunt Alice’s snores told me that she was blithely unaware of the situation.

I wasn’t sure how I ended up in this precarious position, but I wasn’t proud of myself. My aunt was asleep. It was safe to assume that she must have decided to let me sleep in her bed rather than take me home when she got back from her night out.

However, there was no plausible scenario in which I could envision my aunt having sex with me while I was asleep. I assumed I must have accidentally stuck my cock in her pussy while the two of us were asleep, and I couldn’t let her wake up and find me like this. I slowly began to withdraw my cock from her pussy – it felt like a tight sheath wrapped around my dick.

Aunt Alice’s body was warm, and she smelled so good; I was careful not to inhale and breathe too heavily while I extricated myself. I moved slowly, withdrawing my erect penis from her pussy. It didn’t surprise me that I had morning wood.

I had to stand a few feet away from the toilet in the morning just to go pee because I woke up hard every morning. I noticed that it was light outside the window as I pulled myself out of my aunt’s wet ‘fanny’, and I was almost free; just the tip of my dick was still inside. I was relieved that I was going to get away with it – she’d be none the wiser. I felt a bit ashamed of what I must have done while I was asleep, but it was definitely an accident, and I simply wanted to ensure that my aunt didn’t freak out and think I had taken advantage of it.

“Oi, I rather fancy a cocktail in the morning,” my aunt sounded disappointed as I slipped almost completely out of her pussy. I hadn’t expected her to notice; she had been snoring lightly, and I panicked.

“I am sorry, Aunt Alice; I don’t know what happened,” I apologized frantically.

“You were sleeping soundly in my bed with that great erection of yours. It looked quite a bit more appetizing than the Chipolata my date had,” she explained. I had no idea what a Chipolata was, but I assumed it was a tiny dick. “I didn’t have the heart to wake you, so I slid in next to you. I thought to bring you back to your mum in the morning; Sheridan agreed it would be fine if you spent the night. Why are you so worried? I am on the pill if that’s your concern.”

“Did we have sex?” I asked, my penis was still two inches inside my aunt’s pussy.

“I’ve asked men the same question when they came too quickly,” my aunt smiled at me and slid back on my cock. “I should say that we are still having it, aren’t we?”

“You don’t mind?” I asked as my eyes grew wide.

My aunt turned her head to face me and pressed her big breasts into my chest. “Do I look like I mind, Dalton? I think I should be asking that same question of you. I didn’t mean to take advantage of you. I laid down next to you, and you snuggled in close, held me tight, and sniffed my hair like I was some desirable, sexy tart - made me feel quite loved. It made me feel sexy and wanted. I didn’t wriggle onto your cock last night, but waking up with it buried inside me was a bit of a thrill.”

“Did I cum inside of you?” I said, unsure if I should withdraw my cock, or plunge it back into her.

“I am not sure, do you normally stay hard after you shoot your load?” she gripped my cock with her pussy twice, squeezing her pussy lips around it tightly.

“I’ve never had sex before,” I said.

“Caw, a lad your age? As handsome as you are? With a cock like yours? Now you are having me on,” Aunt Alice stroked my hair, and slid on top of me, rolling me back on my shoulders. I looked down and saw her pussy was completely bald. She smiled at me, unaware of why I was looking at my cock buried in her pussy. “Do you fancy cumming inside your Auntie? Or would it be weird for you?”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I don’t think I had to say anything because she began to rhythmically fuck me, slowly moving up and down my cock as if she was painting it with her pussy. She stopped mid-pump and squeezed my cock again with her pussy. “Did you shag my daughters last night?”

“No, not at all,” I assured her.

“Did they try to jump your bones?” she asked as if she expected the answer to be yes.

“Um...” I stammered.

“Right, sorry, I am nattering on; we can talk about the girls after you get a proper nut. I’m just surprised you held out this long. If you were truly a virgin, I would have made you shoot your load by now; unless you prefer boys?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” I assured her.

“I like men who don’t cum in the first thirty seconds,” My Aunt brazenly assured me as she lowered her face to mine, coming close enough to breathe into my ear. I tried to kiss her on the mouth, but she stopped me. “I’ve no problem with a peck, and I love to have sweet nothings blown in my ears, but I am not going to snog with you like a high schooler, Dalton.”

I got the impression that meant she wasn’t going to kiss me. “You don’t want my morning breath anyway. It smells like I’ve been smoking a roasted turd,” she assured me. I could smell a little vodka and cigarettes on her breath, but it wasn’t bad at all – it was intoxicating.

My aunt rode my cock, gliding up the entire length all the way to my balls, and then back up again – stopping just before the tip of my cock slipped out. We fucked like that for what felt like five minutes before she pushed down on my chest and asked, “Do you mind bending me over and having taking a poke at me from behind?” she asked, already sliding off my dick and arranging herself bent over the bed.

I slid off the bed; my pecker was still hard and floppy, soaked in my aunt’s pussy juices. “This is the most action I’ve gotten since I came to America. My date was shite last night. He was all thumbs and left feet on the dance floor. I’m kind of wishing I stayed home and let you babysit me,” she joked as she bent over without any modesty and let me see her big beautiful asshole and wet pussy. Unlike her daughters, tiny, tight, hair covered pussies, My Aunt’s folds and flaps reminded me of a sexy Arby’s roast beef sandwich. It had a purple and orange hue to it – like it had been bruised up and was ready for more action.

I wasn’t sure what to do as I stared into her double barrel holes and took a mental snapshot.

“If you’d rather stick it into my arse, just know that I’ve not had my morning pooh,” she warned as she guided me, wiggled her bum, and offered it to me.

“Where do you want me to put it?” I asked.

“I am not picky, Dalton. Just choose a hole and fill it please. I feel daft waiting like this, like you are going to give me the paddle. I noticed you moved some of my paddles last night, I take it the girls gave you trouble?”

I slid my dick into her pussy, deeply.

“Yes, I had to spank them,” I exhaled, bending over her, trying to get a sniff of her hairspray.

“Caw, hopefully you spanked them a bit harder than you fuck,” she backed into my cock and encouraged me to be more aggressive. “I am not a porcelain doll. You don’t have to pull my hair and choke me out, but make me feel it, please.”

My aunt coaxed me playfully into fucking her roughly – as roughly as I could manage. “That’s it, Dalton! Yes, smack my arse, go on! Give me a proper spank!”

I smacked my aunt’s ass while I humped her, and she liked it – which confused me. My aunt snickered and told me encouragingly that I was getting there. Once I started to get into the groove of things, I began to slap her ass cheeks every three or four times that I drove my cock in and out of her. “Go on, take me! Let me have all of it, pound my pussy, punish it – go ahead, dog me out, raw!”

She was getting less wet, and my dick was sticking to the inside of her pussy, I could pull some of the inside flaps of her pussy out of her body as I withdrew my dick before plunging it back in. “You naughty slag, I want that fat cunny of yours! I am going to bugger you up your arse,” I said in a faux British accent.

Aunt Alice became wet and bent over the bed, pressing her face into the covers. “Yes, yes, Dalton, fuck my fat cunny,” she said. “Take all of me, give it to me, make me feel it,” she yelled loud enough that she would have surely woken up her entire family. She grabbed her pillows and squeezed them tightly as if she was cumming.

“Caw, I am going to have a proper spunk ... in your quim,” I warned, as I came inside my aunt – pressing my body into her ass cheeks as hard as I could.

She looked over her shoulder after I came with a big smile on her face. “Your British accent is proper shite, were you meaning to make me laugh?”

“Yes,” I lied, my cock was still buried deep in my Aunt’s pussy – balsa all the way to her puffy cunt lips.

“You are lucky you are a cute one and you’ve a delicious-looking dick, Dalton. If we shag again, please don’t try to sound British,” she slid off of me and admired my flaccid cock. “Ooh, you’ve a nice one though, I may be able to handle your Spike Dixon impression.”

“Spike Dixon?”

“He’s a comedian from Hi-De-Hi; it’s a British comedy,” she said as she licked my cock, cleaning her juices off of it, taking the entire length of it fully into her mouth, and looking up at me with her pretty blue eyes to assess whether I was impressed or not.

“Can my daughters take an entire cock to the balls in their mouth in one go?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t know,” I said.

“I believed you when you said that you didn’t shag them but are you saying they didn’t give you a little head last night?” she seemed skeptical as she released my cock, and licked her lips like the taste of herself was delicious.

“They offered, but I didn’t think it was proper, er ... um ... that it was okay to do it,” I corrected.

“It’s okay, I speak American. You don’t have to try to talk like you are from Brittain for me to understand,” she joked. “Did you not fancy them? Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I just didn’t think you wanted me to take advantage of them,” I said.

“I wouldn’t think of it as taking advantage. My daughters love sucking cock almost as much as I do. I know that, and I’d rather they suck a cock than ride one, because I can’t afford another mouth to feed. I am just a little surprised is all. I checked on them when I got home, and they were happily snogging off, no nightgowns or dog collars around their necks. I assumed you got up to something kinky with them is all.”

My aunt didn’t seem upset or overly concerned about it – more like she was testing me to see if I was going to tell her I had done something with her daughters. Aunt Alice didn’t sound like she WANTED me to fuck them, but she also didn’t sound like she would have been entirely shocked if I had.

“We’ll find out at breakfast,” she said as she stood up and wiped her pussy with a napkin. “I see one of my favorite dildos was moved and put back,” she sniffed it and said that it was definitely used.

“Yes, I caught them playing with it, and paddled their arses, I mean asses, and then later I made them masturbate in the kitchen with it – as a punishment,” I admitted.

“You did what?” she was shocked and aghast. “in front of Archie?”

I realized that I may have crossed a line, but I decided that the girls would probably tell her what happened. “Yes, he said that he’s caught them before, so I didn’t think it would be a problem?”

“It’s not like your house over here,” she replied. I assumed she thought things were much wilder at my house – or perhaps she knew the reality of things at my house. “Wasn’t a paddle on the arse sufficient for playing with themselves?”

So many things had happened last night that I couldn’t explain the chain of events quickly enough. I blushed and started to get dressed but my aunt remained naked, and she expected an answer.

“I let the girls pretend to be puppies last night, and Mister Archie was my helper – so one of the contests was to play musical cunnies ... they had to take turns sitting down on the dildo while singing Chick, Chick Chicken and flapping their arms.”

“Mister Archie?” my aunt’s eyes twinkled mischievously as she tried on that name. “Musical cunnies and chick, chick, chicken, it sounds like these were Archie’s ideas then?”

It was impossible to tell if my aunt was livid, angry, disappointed, or amused – she could have been all of them. She remained calm as she questioned me on what my motivations were for allowing it.

“I was the one in charge; it was my responsibility. He’s the one who called it musical cunnies, and I told the girls to do a chicken dance for the Pizza guy– they were the ones who added the nursery rhyme. I just made them keep doing it during the contests.”

“My girls ate Pizza?” Aunt Alice’s eyes flicked up at me angrily – there was no mistaking whether or not she approved of that. “It sounds like you let them run wild last night?”

“No, they had to earn it. It’s a complicated story, but I wasn’t going to eat pizza and not let the girls have any,” I said.

“I am not mad at you, Dalton. I didn’t go over what the girls can and cannot eat, but I assumed because you are my sister’s son that you’d know that girls can’t be indulged with pizza?” Aunt Alice shook her head in confusion.

She led me into the kitchen and remained completely naked. I apologized but she didn’t acknowledge what I said. My aunt put on a white apron, her tits and ass still hung out on full display.

“Did you let them have half a box of digestives as well?” she asked as she opened the box of cookies on the counter and examined them.

“Yes, but only as treats when they won a little contest.”

“What kind of contests did you have?” Alice scrunched her nose disapprovingly.

“It’s going to sound weird,” I said, and started to explain how things unfolded. My aunt listened while she made what she called a proper British breakfast. I didn’t like the idea of having a can of beans and baked tomatoes for breakfast, but I didn’t complain or ask for cereal. I simply sat at the table, rewinding to after she left on her date and watching my aunt’s cute ass any time she bent deeply at the waist to get something out of the cupboard or put it in the oven.

I was half-way through telling my Aunt the part of the story where Mister Johnson paid for the pizza when Betty and Veronica walked into the kitchen together. They were naked and still had their dog collars on. Their makeup and hair was done perfectly, but they hadn’t bothered with clothes.

“Nice of you two lazy sods to finally wake up and join me in the kitchen; lot of help you are,” my aunt chided them; before asking “Where is my toothbrush?”

“Mister Dalton told you about that, did he?” the girls looked very guilty and nervous that their mother was about to punish them again for not confessing immediately to what they had done the night before.

“Aye, from what I understand, you were supposed to have them in your bums and present them bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to confess you have been shagging off with your brother and my toothbrush for how long now?”

“Since before we go to America, Mum,” Betty admitted with a pout. She offered to help with the breakfast.

“Once again, you two lazy cows managed to arrive just in the nick of time that I don’t need you help to make breakfast. Don’t change the subject or play the part of the innocent. Tell me straight - You’ve put the bristle end of my brush up your dirty pooh holes and not told me about it? All this time?”

“Yes, Mum, but we washed it after we finished,” Betty and Veronica stood completely naked in front of their mum as she questioned them. They looked like they were mortified and had been caught red-handed while stealing from a store.

“Why didn’t you use your own brushes to wank with?” Alice seethed and stared them down. The girls looked at me and then back at their mother. “He’s already told me his part of this, but I want to hear it from you lot, not that I’ll believe you as far as I can toss you two wankers.”

“We did use our own as well, one in our cunnie, and one to fiddle our bean at the same time,” Veronica admitted.

“I heard you prefer them up your bum,” Alice scolded Veronica.

“That’s Betty, she’s the one who likes it up the arse, but we shouldn’t have used your brush, and we apologize. Did Mister Dalton tell you we were punished?”

“Oh, Aye, you were really punished so hard! I feel for you girls,” Alice scoffed. I noticed her tone sounded just like Archie when he mocked the girls – it was obviously where he picked it up from. “As I hear it told, Veronica got a quick four pops on the bottom, one on the fanny, and then you tricked Mister Dalton into letting you go pooh, only that’s when you snuck off to do the deed in the bathroom. Once you were caught frigging yourselves, you had to flash some handsome lad that you gushed for and walk about wanking off with the brushes, which is what you wanted to do anyway, is that about it?”

“Yes, Mum,” Betty and Veronica admitted with a frown – clearly not proud of themselves, blushing.

“You ate pizza, even though you know how I feel about indulging you two and then half a tin of my favorite biscuits. Do you think they even sell these over here in America?” she waved the cookies at the girls angrily.

“No, Mum,” they answered.

“Mister Dalton also told me that you horny little sluts tried to suck him off at the end of the night, is that right?”

“We heard you having a go with him this morning,” Veronica huffed and harumphed angrily. She was willing to eat crow about everything else, but she decided to stand up to her mother over the double standard there.

“What I do in the privacy of my room is none of your business, you nosy little gossips,” Alice didn’t bat an eye. “I am not sure how I feel about Mister Dalton watching the two of you because it sounds like you’ve got him wrapped around your dirty little fingers. I’ve half a mind to give you two peachy spunk-magnets the forty swats that you earned last night after breakfast but, I’ve to run Mister Dalton back to his house.”

“We’re sorry, Mum! Whatever you decide is best,” they agreed demurely – clearly willing to accept any punishment that their mother saw fit.

“Go and wake your brother politely, and ask him if he wants his tea,” she instructed. “I understand last night he watched as the two of you had a full-on wank to the point of orgasm?”

“Yes, Mum,” Veronica nodded and looked at the ground.

“That was probably a proper thrill for you two?” My aunt asked.

“No mum, at first Mister Dalton used the brushes on us, and we couldn’t help ourselves,” Betty admitted – throwing me under the bus. Alice glared at me, and then back at them.

“You didn’t enjoy getting wanked while eating pizza off the floor?” Alice asked skeptically.

“I enjoyed it, yeah, obviously, but it wasn’t my idea to do it, and Archie could have left at any time,” Betty offered defensively with a pout.

“I thought it was Mister Archie now?” my aunt asked.

“If he wants it to be, we’ve no problem with that,” Betty and Veronica both agreed.

“Caw, you’ve no problem showing respect to your brother? I am so glad that you don’t mind because it was not up to you. I am just trying to understand what happened last night while I was trying to have an adult evening away from you whinging twats for a night without worrying that you’d burn the house down or throw an orgy in the living room. Go and collect Mister Archie, one of you will make his bed while he uses the loo, and the other will make his tea. I don’t care which, but if I catch either of you wanking off I won’t hesitate to give you forty on the arse, and twenty more on the quim – since you’ve graduated to pussy spanks.”

“We didn’t graduate to it; they just did it, Mum,” Veronica acknowledged her mother’s instructions, didn’t argue any further, and the two of them quickly disappeared – leaving me alone with Alice.

She poured some warm juice for me. It tasted terrible – not like the standard orange juice that I was used to. I didn’t ask what it was, but I assumed it was something British. The name on the juice box was “Pixie Juice” and the word “Satsuma” was written across it.

“I have more bad news for you, Mister Dalton,” My Aunt said. I half expected her to say that this was all a colossal put-on and that the girls were pretending to be naughty sluts like some sort of Candid Camera prank show.

My cousins’ way of thinking and living seemed so surreal that I believed it was possible they were kidding about the idea that the girls really saw sucking dick as a way to give a friendly good night, and that they didn’t really get spanked and teased regularly.

It would be an awfully far stretch, though, that they’d go to that length just to blow my mind - the simple fact was that what seemed like an outrageous fantasy to me - was a reality to my cousins. As thrilling as it was to think cute girls would WANT to be naked and crawl around like puppies showing off their quims and bums - it was a simple mundane reality to Archie and his sisters.

“I’m having a bit of a difficult financial time, and I can’t exactly pay you for last night – not in anything but sweaty quim and a hassle. I wouldn’t blame you if you are angry – but can we keep this between us? Not even your mum must know,” she said.

I assured her that I could keep a secret – and I was curious.

“I had expected to come home with a bit of cash last night. My date wasn’t exactly someone I would have chosen. He was a punter, and I am a prossy – a friend of mine set me up to make $150 American dollars and all I had to do was show some old geezer a night out on the town. I didn’t expect him to get it up when I saw him – and he was rank. I didn’t mind that so much, but he stiffed me and not in a good way.”

My aunt’s accent was much thicker than her daughters, but I worked out that she was a prostitute and that the guy she was supposed to have sex with didn’t pay her from the context.

“I liked having a tumble with you this morning, but the girls are too much for you to handle. Would you really want to babysit these two little turd wranglers after the night you had, anyway?”

“Wait, I can’t babysit anymore?” I asked – I was hurt and concerned. I felt like I had done my best, and my aunt was being unfair and hasty.

“I don’t think you babysat them at all last night, Dalton. You let them walk all over you, and you are too nice. Your mum warned me that you would probably not be right for this, but I bet her that you would,” she sounded disappointed.

I was surprised that my Aunt Alice would make a bet like that – I barely knew her and had only briefly met her when she first arrived in America. Veronica returned with a determined look on her face, she started boiling a kettle on the stove.

“Why is your toothbrush not up your arse like I told you?” I asked angrily.

“I ... I couldn’t find it this morning, and I...” Veronica was clearly making excuses.

“Couldn’t find it, or didn’t look for it? It’s right where you two sluts left them,” I cut her off mid-sentence and pointed to the kitchen sink where I washed them. “You were told to tell your mum what you did with her brush, and have it stuck up your arse so you wouldn’t forget, but you didn’t because you thought you could walk all over me. Go and stick it up your bum like I told you!”

Veronica glanced at her mother as if seeking her permission or guidance on whether to do as she was told. “Don’t look at your mother, I told you what to do -and you were told to mind me.”

Veronica stuck the brush in her mouth and licked it and then put it in her butt. I waited for her to get it in her ass before telling her that I expected the bristle end to go up her bum.

“Take it out, do it again, this will remind you what a pain in the arse you are for your mum, mister Archie, and me. I may not get to babysit you again, but I am not going to leave her with your mum thinking I was soft on you,” I said – this time I didn’t try to sound British. I simply spoke the British words in an American, and they flowed much more naturally.

My aunt didn’t concede that my performance was convincing, but she also didn’t undermine me. When Betty joined us, I did the same thing. “You took your sweet time making up your brother’s bed, go and get your bum stuffed with a toothbrush, bristle end first.”

“You should have made her put it in wrong way first, like I did,” Veronica laughed playfully.

“Do you see me laughing this morning? I was told I may not get to babysit you lot again, and I am not happy about it,” I said.

“Mum, we can’t have Mister Dalton babysit us?” Betty asked as she plunged the bristle end of the brush into her ass without licking it to make it easier to slide in first. Her pretty blue eyes widened when she popped it in, but she barely seemed moved by it.

“I can’t afford to pay him, and I am afraid he let you two walk over him, I am also not sure how Mister Archie felt about last night. We’ll see how your brother feels this morning,” Aunt Alice said.

“Feels about it?” Betty asked as she set the table, placing silverware and plates for three.

“Aye, watching you two motor your quims to orgasm, or did you forget?” Alice said.

Archie’s flush punctuated the conversation and abruptly halted the exchange between the women. He leisurely joined us, fully dressed. “I keep hearing my name, what did I do wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing, Mister Archie,” his mom said teasingly.

“Oh, you heard about that, did you? Mister Dalton asked me to be his helper last night. It was his idea that the girls call me Mister Archie. You can have a laugh about it if you want,” Archie told his mother as he pulled up a chair and sat down.

“I am just curious how you felt about your sisters calling you Mister Archie. You have never let on that you’d go for something like that,” Alice asked her son.

“As long as it’s not done for a laugh like you are doing to take the piss, then I’m okay with it, but not around my mates or at school,” he said.

“I was made to call all the men in my family Mister, so I think it’s proper, but I’ve never wanted you to feel uncomfortable with it, Mister Archie. Do you mind if I call you that as well? Or will it make you feel like I am patronizing you?” his mother asked.

“Not all the time,” Archie decided as he complained about his tea not being ready.

“Sorry, your tea is steeping; it’s the Twining’s; it’s all we had,” Veronica brought over his cup. “How do you want it?”

“With a bloody curtsy, milk, and some sugar,” Archie told his sister sarcastically.

“The curtsy I can do,” His mother curtsied playfully, lifting the apron slightly on the sides as she bent her knee in a curtsy, and then she playfully squeezed her bare tits still hanging out of her apron. “But, the only milk in the house would come out of these fun bags, and they dried up years ago. I’m afraid we’ll have to do without milk for our tea until I can make some more money and get down to the shops.”

Despite the salacious joke, no one even raised an eyebrow when my aunt joked about her tits giving milk or making money. I got the impression everyone was comfortable with HOW their mother made money as well – it shocked ME that the joke hadn’t shocked them.

“Why did we leave Surrey? The girls could milk an actual cow, and we’d have all the milk we needed,” Archie asked in consternation.

“I am a dumb slag who thought the grass would be greener, Mister Archie,” my aunt joked. She didn’t talk submissively to her son, and her self-effacing comments were more like comedic jests, so I didn’t take her very seriously.

“Green grass with cow shite in it,” Archie observed bluntly.

“Aye, I’ve stepped in it enough to know that green grass isn’t all it’s cracked up to be; I am sorry you’ll have to do without milk this morning, Archie,” she smiled lovingly at her son – clearly doting on him.

“Oi, what happened to calling me Mister Archie?” he teased as she brought him a plate of food.

There was something round, black, and burnt on the plate that looked like a hockey puck soaked in motor oil—I was later told it was “black pudding,” which didn’t help. Next to it sat a sad heap of flavorless beans, the kind you’d expect to see in a budget prison meal, right alongside a cooked tomato that looked like it had given up on life mid-fry. The rest was a grease-soaked pile of eggs, rubbery bacon that barely counted as bacon, and a sausage that looked suspiciously pale like it had never seen authentic seasoning in its life.

“You said you didn’t mind being called Mister Archie as long as it wasn’t all the time,” she teased him as she placed the plate in front of him.

“That was before you told me that I’d have to do without milk for my tea,” Archie joked with a grin.

“You sound like your grandfather sometimes,” she laughed and brought me a plate full of the awful breakfast as well. “Next, you’ll want me to address you as Sir?” she offered a sassy grin.

“Is it too much for you to set a proper example for these two cock polishers?” Archie said crassly – it was unexpected, and I could tell it wasn’t usual because his mother and sisters looked shocked. He had spoken like that to Betty and Veronica when his mother wasn’t home, but I got the impression he usually didn’t take that tone with his mother.

“Point taken, Sir, we’ve never been big on formalities here; it’s just the four of us, but I am not above showing a little respect if you’ll show me the same?” she asked as she served herself a plate of food and joined us – leaving the girls to get their own.

“What would you have me do, Mum?” Archie asked.

“Just don’t talk to me like your sisters, for starters,” she said. “You can talk down to those lazy munters all day long, but I’d rather you not compare me to a cock polisher, especially when we’ve company,” she said as she took a bite of her food.

The girls had a plate of beans, eggs, and black pudding. “Mum, how are we meant to sit with the toothbrushes in our bums?” Betty interrupted politely.

“Ask Mister Dalton; he’s the one that told you to pack your arses with my brush. I don’t have the money for a new one, so I am expecting you to scrub your foulness off it clean as a whistle before I brush my teeth,” she snickered.

I instructed the girls to sit as they had the night before.

“Like a puppy?” Betty asked incredulously.

“I am looking forward to this,” Alice seemed pleasantly amused rather than horrified that I expected her daughters to eat like dogs on their hands and knees. She seemed like the type of woman who could not only take a joke, but who could also find humor in the absurd. “I thought you two liked to eat like puppies?”

“Can we eat like puppies then?” Betty asked her mother’s permission.

“I don’t allow you to sit at the table when you are naked anyway, so I don’t see what the big deal is?” Alice shrugged as the girls stood there holding their plates with silverware. “If you are trying to shock me, you won’t succeed. I’ve no concern for how you eat as long as you keep your drippy quims and sweaty holes off my seats.

The girls set their plates and silverware down at the table and knelt at our feet. I was surprised that the family really did eat this way.

“That’s not how you ate last night,” Archie wiped his mouth and corrected them. “You were on your hands and knees like dogs and we hand-fed you,” he said. “You lazy gobblers got to chomp down on pizza while Mister Dalton and I held it out for you to have a bite. Did you tell Mum that?”

“Yes, I heard all about it,” Alice said as she ate her food. “I hope you girls enjoyed it because it will be your last for a while,” she announced. “I was less concerned that the girls had a nibble of pizza, than I was when I heard about the floor show they put on for you?”

“The enemas?” he asked innocently enough – like it was not a big deal to bring up to his mother.

My aunt spat out her tea, clearly surprised. “I didn’t hear about any enemas,” she admitted, glaring at me and then the girls.

“We washed out their dirty bums with the garden hose,” Archie admitted like it was not a big deal.

“Shite and all?” my aunt was shocked, disgusted, and dismayed – quite uncomfortable.

“No, just a little brown water sprayed out the first time,” Archie explained like he was a seasoned veteran at this. “We washed them all over – hair, face, arse, everywhere – like puppies.”

“Did you put the hoses up their arses or just up to their bums?” my aunt asked, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

“All the way in, but Mister Dalton used a squirt gun, and the nozzle wasn’t that much bigger than the toothbrush,” he explained. I could tell that Archie was growing increasingly uncomfortable being put on the spot.

“If you were just playing outside in the backyard, I’ve no problem with it, but you could get girl shite all over yourself if one of them backflows on you,” My Aunt decided before asking the girls if they had fun playing at being a puppy.

“It was fun, and we didn’t mind the enemas, but Cousin Janis gets a proper enema nightly - she has to hold it a full five minutes! In the bath, not out in the yard!” Betty said – I wasn’t sure if she was trying to make it sound like what we did wasn’t that big of a deal or asking to do the same.

“She does, does she?” my aunt looked at me skeptically. “I’ve heard Janis is a handful. She’s old enough to be out on her own, but she’s still living under your mum and dad’s roof,” she said.

I felt uncomfortable with my lies because my aunt clearly talked to my mother and would find out I had fibbed. I was simply too cowardly to correct them. “Aye, she’s a handful,” I said – still didn’t sound right when I said ‘aye.’

“Does your sister address you as Mister Dalton or Sir at home?” My aunt looked me squarely in the eye as she asked – was this a test? Did she know the truth, and she just wanted to see if I’d continue the lie?

“When she wants something,” I lied, glancing down at the flavorless beans on my plate and pushing them around.

“What about Sheridan?” my aunt asked. I almost didn’t connect the name with that of my mother. It was such an absurd idea that my mother would call me Sir at home.

“We aren’t big on formalities,” I countered – the same excuse that my aunt gave for not doing it in her own home.

“Mister Archie has the right of it, the main reason for my girls being disobedient, sneaky twats is that I’ve failed to set a proper example or have much of a male role model in their lives,” my aunt looked defeated, and a bit flummoxed.

“It’s like Saint Edward said, you can discipline girls and set all the examples you want, but in the end, you need to keep giving them more, because it doesn’t do any good,” I paraphrased my cousins explanation from the night before. “You can’t really blame yourself; the girls were always going to be horny little knob goblins that like to get away with whatever they can.”

“Saint Edward the Confessor said that did he?” My aunt found my words amusing and took a sip of her tea. “Oi, disgusting without milk,” she frowned.

“He didn’t say it in scripture, but I believe that was his message – girls are nothing but trouble, and they don’t deserve modesty – there isn’t much you can do about it. You can paddle their arses until they see stars, but they’ll still be up to no good the next day,” I said.

“I hadn’t thought about it like that,” My Aunt mused, seemingly relieved. “I just thought I was a crap mum, but girls will be girls – so there is that,” she shrugged.

“Yeah, well, you are a woman, so you wouldn’t know what is best for the girls, would you?” I asked. I regretted saying it as soon as the words exited my mouth. I’d bought so heavily into the ideas that the girls had presented to me about men being superior to women that I had started to believe it. I instantly apologized and said that I didn’t mean it.

“No, you have a right to say that - I should do the opposite of what I think is best because my instincts are usually wrong, Mister Dalton. I’ve just not had anyone talk to me like that in a while. Your mum was wrong about you – she told me you were a bit of a softie.”

“You said I shouldn’t continue to babysit the girls, so I think that’s one decision you made that is wrong,” I added.

“I can’t pay you, and you’d have to babysit Mister Archie as well, not just the girls,” my aunt clarified.

“Mister Archie can look after himself; I don’t think he needs my supervision, and you can pay me the way you did this morning.”

The girls and Archie grinned – they all heard their mother’s screams of passion in the bedroom.

“You lot heard that, did you?” My aunt said to her kids. “That was hardly a payment for you, Sir. I enjoy a good tumble – you can stop by anytime you want to shag – you don’t have to spend your Friday or Saturday here with these tarty cows to have a little piece of your Aunt Alice if that’s what you want.”

I pushed the beans around awkwardly on my plate and blushed. No one in the family seemed shocked by their mother’s bold statements – it was more like playful amusement by the offer of sex. I could imagine my brother and I picking our jaws off the ground if our mother had just offered to fuck Archie anytime he wanted.

“You seem surprised? I’ve always been open and honest about my sexuality with the girls – they are horny little sluts – so it’s not like they don’t know one end of a cock from the other – and what hole to stick it in to make a baby. I’d rather you not let them play with themselves when you babysit. I’d also ask that you not indulge them with my biscuits, pizza, ice cream, or sweets – no matter how much they butter you up.”

I was elated that I could continue to babysit my cousins and agreed to her terms quickly – without giving it any thought.

“Do you not like the beans?” she asked.

I didn’t like ANY of the food – I had barely eaten it. I politely pretended that I wasn’t hungry.

“When we see your aunt later, I’ll ask if she’s kept you skinny by not feeding you a proper English breakfast? Scrape what you didn’t eat into the girls’ plates then, and I’ll get dressed and take you home.”

I was surprised that the girls were thrilled when I scraped my uneaten food onto their plates. “Thank you, Mister Dalton!” they said, as they asked for my unfinished juice.

“Nice try, I’ll have that,” my aunt took my unfinished cup. “I thought you cheeky monkeys were going to eat like dogs, hands and knees, no silverware, mouths only,” she observed.

“Do you mind if we do, we might get it all over the floor, mum” Betty said.

“You’ll have to scrub it down anyway, as long as you mind yourselves and Mister Archie doesn’t mind, I don’t care if you have a laugh. I was hoping to see you both with your faces covered in beans and blood sausages.”

Betty eagerly got on her hands and knees, bent low and stuck her face down in her plate, trying to eat the food that I had just piled on it. My aunt chuckled and asked Veronica why she wasn’t giving it a go.

“You’ll laugh at us, and we’re not competing for anything – Betty’s got to make me a ribbon for best puppy to wear in my hair,” Veronica pouted.

“Of course, I’d laugh at you two silly minges; you’ve no modesty, and you aren’t meant to have any – you can’t be number one puppy if you won’t eat like one – so have at it.”

“Yes, Mum!” Veronica eagerly joined her sister, tearing at the black sausage while growling playfully.

“Did you and my mum play games like that when you were growing up?” I asked as I watched the pretty young girls scarf down the food – face first, mouths only.

“No, girls would never have never been allowed to play at the table,” my aunt became wistful – thinking back on how she was raised. I was definitely curious to hear about it. “Did Sheridan not tell you much of how she was raised?”

“Not really, no,” I admitted – “Do you have any burning desire to act like a puppy at the table?” I asked – hoping to see my aunt humiliate herself like her daughters.

“No, I’ve no wish to be a puppy; I am an old dog, past her prime,” my aunt sighed. She was a beautiful woman as far as I was concerned – mature, sexy, and confident. I was surprised that she even considered my question.

“Archie, if I take your cousin home, are you fine then to watch the girls? You can play outside, but only after they clean up every dropped morsel from the floor and wash their faces and hair properly. I don’t mean with the garden hose. I mean with the shower – fully.”

“You said you would call me Mister Archie,” he shrugged his only concern – pouting.

“It’s going to take a bit to get used to that, but you are right. I’d also ask that you not allow your sisters to masturbate – no contests to see who has the daintiest wank or squeakiest fart, or any of that- and no inviting the neighbor over to watch them either. I don’t trust Mister Johnson.”

The real reason you don’t want to call me Mister Archie is ‘cause you don’t fucking respect me,” Archie scoffed, narrowing his eyes. “You say it like it’s a joke like I’m one of these daft girls with my bum up in the air wagging it like a dog’s tail.”

The girls looked over their shoulders, faces dripping with food, and listened.

He leaned in, voice dripping with irritation. “You don’t see me as someone worth respecting, do you? I don’t want you to say it if you are going to treat me like a daft boy.”

“That’s fair, Sir. You are quite right – I am just used to thinking of you as my boy. You are growing into a man, and I’ll do a better job of it, Mister Archie.”

“You say that, but you talk down to me when you are leaving like I am a bloody fool. How am I to motivate the girls if I can’t allow them to wank off or grade their performances?”

“You have a fair point, but what great need is there to motivate two silly twats?” my aunt countered. “You tell them to clean the floor and your room, and if they doddle or whinge about it, then I’ll paddle them when I am back. If you have a mind to use one of the paddles on the wall, and they deserve it – I am not opposed to you giving them a proper spanking – but I’d prefer you wait until I can teach you how to wield one properly so you don’t end up hurting them.”

“Isn’t the idea of a spanking to make it hurt?” he asked.

“Yeah, in the right way, on a female body part that gets our attention – stings, but not on the kidney or around certain parts of the back. I was told you spanked your sisters on the quim last night.”

“Not hard, and nothing I hadn’t seen you do before,” Archie replied.

“if you saw me do it before, then it definitely hurt when I spanked your sisters’ cunnies,” My Aunt replied confidently. “I can’t recollect doing that since we got to America. I’ve never made a secret of paddling your sisters – you are always welcome to watch. I am just surprised that suddenly, you have this great desire to discipline them and watch them fiddle their beans. You always come to me with terror in your eyes when you catch them going at it in their rooms.”

“Yeah, because they aren’t supposed to do it – but if they are willing to earn it, then I’d rather that than the threat of a paddle. I know for a fact Veronica enjoyed it enough to drip all over the carpet when Mister Dalton was giving her a bum roasting.”

“Bum roasting,” My Aunt found the crass term amusing. “Where did you hear that?”

“I didn’t, I just made it up,” Archie admitted.

“Caw, well, some girls do like a good bum roasting, I’ll give you that,” my aunt smirked, I think she was developing a newfound respect for her son. “Can you hold off then on allowing the girls to have a proper wank to full orgasm until I get home from your aunt’s house? I’d like a bit of time to think about this.”

“What’s the harm? I’ve seen them diddle themselves already; we all know they do it, and they are just going to try to stroke themselves off when our backs are turned. We’d have clean toothbrushes if we had allowed them to pleasure themselves out in the open – where I can have a laugh.”

“I hadn’t thought about that – your sisters sunk your toothbrush into their gashes, didn’t they? That’s very naughty,” she finally looked down at the girls, who were staring back up at her with dirty faces – covered in bean juice – blinking innocently and blushing.

[EddieDavidson]

One more chapter on what was supposed to be a two chapter (at most) story

[EddieDavidson]

I am not sure if folks are still reading this one - I thought it was a fun one to write. I liked it so much I kept going after it ended because I felt there was more "story" - just a little bit of a twist.

===


My Aunt looked down on her daughters kneeling on the floor, wagged her finger, and asked “You lot will ONLY Masturbate with our permission; if I catch ONE finger in one of your dirty little holes without permission, then I’ll rethink the entire thing. Is that fair?”

The question seemed as mundane as being asked if you’d clean the house for a few hours before being allowed to go out to a dance on Saturday night – and to my Aunt and her daughters – this kind of discussion WAS mundane – masturbating was a topic they addressed openly around the house.

“Wow, really?” Betty was shocked and pleasantly surprised that she’d be allowed to masturbate.

I would have expected her to be humiliated or feel denigrated that she was being told she could masturbate by her younger brother, mum, or me. I could imagine how I’d feel if my mother told me I’d have to wait until she or my older sister decided I could whack off -and then I had to be grateful and do it right out in front of them.

My cousins truly had no modesty when it came to masturbating though – they’d just as soon as finger their pussy in the living room or kitchen and I think they were thrilled to have an audience because they liked attention. The only people I thought liked to jerk off in front of people were the flashers in the trench coats that whip it out at public bus stops.

My Aunt hadn’t asked the girls how they felt about masturbating in front of their brother or whether they wanted to do it – she just assumed they wouldn’t mind the indignity. She was right- they both seemed excited by the opportunity -elated by the change.

However, Veronica did have one question, and it surprised me that she had the audacity to even ask the question. “Are we to ask our brother for permission to masturbate? Or Is Mister Archie allowed to make us play with ourselves anytime he likes and then tell us to stop when we get hot? Leaving us gagging?”

My Aunt was quiet for a moment – I assumed she thought the question was so over the top that she was rethinking the entire thing. “What would it matter to you if Mister Archie told you to go at it, and made you stop? You’d have a little thrill and no satisfaction – but some is better than none, isn’t it?”

“Veronica sighed, pressing her lips together like she was embarrassed to even ask. "I mean… I know I should be grateful for whatever we get, but stopping right at the best bit? He may have us up and down all morning – turned on and in heat and then scrubbing the floor with our quims dripping.”

Archie answered before his mother could reply to the question with exaggerated sympathy. "Oh yes, tragic, that. Utterly unjust. You’d get to finger your twats and arseholes openly around the house, instead of buggering off like a sneaky little gits to do it – and you may be told to stop just as you reached the point you got off. Then you’d be flustered and drippy while you clean – which is how you are most of the time anyway, isn’t it?”

His mom smiled impishly when he said that to Veronica – and his sisters knelt in silence.

“It’s not like mum doesn’t catch you humping a cushion, grinding against a chair leg, or sneaking off to have a quick fiddle in her room – I put my neck out on the line to ask if I could let you have a little bit more, and instead of thanking me, you ask if I am going to have to let you have an orgasm every single time?”

“No, it wasn’t quite like that, Mister Archie,” she replied with a stammer.

“What was it then? Because I could argue the other way, that I be vigilant now and stomp a hole in your arses anytime I catch you two snogging on the bed – would you like that?”

“No, Mister Archie,” Veronica acquiesced.

“Alright, then that’s settled,” my Aunt decided. “My personal gash splitters are off limits though, yeah? You can borrow my paddles, but I don’t want the girls to use my toys to get themselves off. I’ll find some things they can use besides fingers and toothbrushes – but until then, that’s all they’ve got.”

“Can I make them snog each other’s cunnies?” Archie asked boldly. I saw all three women’s eyes get big in shock at the same time, mouths dropping open. “What? Are we going to pretend they aren’t chin deep in each other’s gash the moment the light is out?”

“Would you stick with fingers and brushes until I get back from dropping off your cousins, and we’ll talk about it. I know the girls munch carpet – I munched carpet when I was their age too – but I’ve no desire to watch them snog like hussies on heat while I have my tea. It’s already enough that they’ll be over the moon and on heat half the time, playing as puppy girls. I assume now, you girls want to be naked at every meal?”

“Can we?” Betty asked anxiously.

“Your brother and I can tell you to put on clothes, and if his mates come over, I’d like you to wear clothes and not put on a floor show for them – but I can’t really stop you, either. If I find out you two are whinging and complaining about any of this – or suddenly insist that your brother is being unfair because he didn’t let you squirt cream all over the kitchen after he got you close then I’ll put a stop to it,” she warned.

“Yes, Mum!” the girls agreed excitedly.

“No more questions, please. We’ve probably rattled your cousin enough as it is,” she warned as she got up from the table.

“Rattled? Mister Dalton is the reason I thought to make the offer to let the girls frig themselves and do little competitions. He’s probably got Janis eating off the floor at every meal – not just breakfast,” Archie said before adding that he doubted his cousin would ever dare to complain.

My Aunt didn’t respond to that. “I am going to change out of the apron, and have a quick frig, can you four behave while I am getting ready? And no, I am NOT going to frig out in the open like the girls will,” My Aunt half-joked as she got up from the table. She barked orders that the girls needed to clean up. They eagerly did as they were told, clearing away the table, smiling, and cleaning the floor without complaint.

My aunt took about fifteen minutes longer than I thought she needed to get ready – but she did look stunning when she left her room. Aunt Alice had a glow about her – confident. Her white chemise top clung to her like a second skin, the fabric just sheer enough to leave nothing to the imagination—nipples pressing against it, daring a man not to look. The hip-hugging skirt rode dangerously high, showing off long, toned legs balanced on a pair of sharp, high heels that clicked with every deliberate step.
Thick blonde curls framed her face, every strand set to perfection with half a can of hairspray. The blue mascara made her eyes pop, while her red lips looked made for sin, glossy and inviting. She oozed sexuality – 1980s style – like Morgan Fairchild or Audrey and Judy Landers.

My mother bore some resemblance in the face, but she had plain features, seldom wore makeup, and was a brunette. There was quite a difference between the two of them.

Alice gripped the paddle that bore my mother’s name on it. She told me that she was going to return it to her. “Your mum had enough bum roastings with it that our dad burned her name into it.”

I blushed – unsure of how I was going to address that with my mother. My Aunt took a look at the girls walking around naked while Archie teased them and smiled – then she told them she’d be home soon.

My Aunt had a very cheap, broken-down red Fiero. The engine wheezed when it tried to turn over, coughing like a two-pack-a-day smoker on his last legs, while the interior reeked of mildew, old vinyl, and whatever bad decisions the last owner made before they sold it to my Aunt.

“It’s not the greatest car, but it’ll get us where we are going,” she said as I sat down in the passenger side. “You may not have time to babysit my girls, you know?” she made conversation. “You’ve got school, and your home life probably keeps you busy.”

“It was really interesting being at your house, and I am more than happy to help you. You don’t have to pay me a dime.”

"You say that now, but I reckon you’ll get bored of us soon enough," Alice mused, eyes on the road, voice smooth and knowing. "Men usually do. Once they’ve had a few dips in my punch bowl, they don’t see much reason to come back for another ladle,” My Aunt Alice had a way with words—crass, blunt, and sharp enough to make a man choke on his drink.

"You’re smart, pretty, cheeky, and you seem to love sex," I said, listing it off like it was obvious. I observed that any guy her age would have to be a complete idiot not to fall for her.
Alice laughed, shaking her head, but there wasn’t much conviction in it. "Oh, you’re a sweet talker, I’ll give you that—but I’m not buying it." She sighed, gripping the wheel a little tighter. "My life’s a fucking mess. My bank account’s emptier than my fridge, I’ve got no skills other than giving world-class head, no career, and the rent’s due in six days." She glanced at me, raising a brow. "Oh, and did I mention I’ve got three teenagers? Two of whom will drain his balls faster than I could – so any guy that wants me is either a lunatic or a horny old git.”

“You said you didn’t mind if they sucked my dick, would you mind if they sucked your boyfriend’s cock?” I asked.

“You are a cheeky one, aren’t you, Mister Dalton?” my Aunt said. I was surprised she had continued to call me Mister Dalton after we left her house. I felt much like Archie did that my Aunt called me "Mister" more as a joke or because she wanted her daughters to do it.

“You don’t have to call me Mister Dalton now that we are out of your house,” I said.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” she asked coyly – I felt like she was just pressing my buttons.

“It’s a bit like with Archie – you don’t see me as an authority figure. You are just taking the piss,” I said.

“Oi, it’s hard to take you seriously when you do that fake British accent. You sound like Michael Palin when he’s playing one of those overly polite twits who’d apologize for being in the way of a mugger. The next thing you’ll do is wink at me and say, Is, uh,...Is your wife a goer, eh? Know what ah mean, know what ah mean, nudge nudge, know what ah mean, say no more?."

I laughed because I knew that sketch very well. “You are so funny, Aunt Alice.”

“You can just call me Alice from now on; would that be alright? You’ve been inside my cunnie – I think we are past formalities, yeah?”

I was surprised that she said that to me – but I didn’t refuse her offer. “It’ll take some getting used to, Alice.”

“Yeah, I think you’ll find that you’ve got a lot more to get used to in the coming months, Mister Dalton. That’s why I say you may find that you’ve little time for me and my problems. I do enjoy your cock, and I’d prefer you give me a call before you drop over – but you are welcome anytime.”

“I would definitely call first,” I assured her. My aunt didn’t respond; she kept her eyes on the road.

“It’s so ghastly driving on the wrong side of the road. Do you know how to drive a car?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I admitted.

“Would you mind? I am used to driving on the proper side of the road, and you Americans drive on the wrong side,” she pulled over and let me drive her car. The seat was uncomfortable, and no matter how much I adjusted it, I couldn’t get enough legroom. I was flattered that my Aunt allowed me to drive her home.

“You really didn’t mind how things were at my house? It wasn’t too much for you?” she asked in a very overly polite manner.

“The girls really are well-behaved, and Archie was a lot of fun. I enjoyed it – I assure you.”

“I hope you continue to feel that way – I have a notion we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other soon enough,” she said it cryptically like it was a warning – but didn’t add any more to it.

She was quiet for the rest of the way to my house – I didn’t live that far from my Aunt’s house. It was within walking distance for me. I suppose anything is within walking distance if you have the time – but it was a mere two miles or so.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I am going to come inside with you,” My Aunt decided as we pulled up to my house. My father was gone, but my mom and Janis’s car was there. Janis was currently between jobs and usually slept in pretty late – so I expected she’d be asleep.

“Why?” I stammered nervously.

“I want to see the look on your mum’s face when you show her this paddle,” my Aunt replied confidently – no hesitation.

“Look, I may have embellished a bit about how things are at my house, okay? I don’t think my mum, her mom, is going to find this paddle amusing. I wanted you to think that I could handle the girls, and I can – but we don’t do things like you do at your house.”

“I am well aware of how things were at your house, Sir,” My Aunt surprised me as she hopped out of the car and opened the door for me. I was shocked by that – but assumed perhaps this was part of some elaborate joke she was going to play on me.

“I’ll carry the paddle if you prefer,” she said as she took my arm and the paddle from me. I was very reluctant to enter my house with my Aunt in tow – but she had a big smile on her face and was quite insistent that she wanted to say hello to her sister. “I am afraid you are in for a little bad news – but It’s nothing that you didn’t expect – and then we’ll have a chat about things moving forward.”

I was alarmed by Alice’s cryptic warning, but she didn’t elaborate, and she had waited until we reached the door. My mom was already waiting for us.

My mother dressed frumpy and lazy on the weekends, but she had done her hair and put on some makeup, and it did wonders for how she looked. My mom seemed nervous. She wore only a simple white robe, but that wasn’t entirely unusual for her to spend the day in something simple like that around the house.

She never walked around naked or with her ass hanging out the way that my Aunt did – but braless without a robe was fairly typical for her. "Just bringing your lovely son home, Mister Dalton and all," Alice said smoothly, using my babysitting name like it was my proper title. As my mother opened the door, Alice flashed a playful smile. "Though I was sorely tempted to keep him for myself."

My mom didn’t seem surprised by that comment at all. “You certainly took your time bringing him home?”

“I needed time to shag him and put on my face,” my Aunt said pointedly before looking into our house. “Do you mind allowing me inside, or shall we do this out here on the patio?”

The breezy way that my Aunt admitted that she had fucked me didn’t seem to surprise my mother. I noticed a look on her face of relief like she was impressed with me. “You’ve won the bet, then?” my mom asked -. I knew something was going on between them, but I had no inkling.

“What do you think?” Alice held up the paddle that bore my mother’s name. My mother’s face blanched and turned pale. I remembered that my Aunt had said something about a bet earlier, but I didn’t think much of it at the time.

“What is this all about?” I asked.

“Oh god, you’ve programmed him to talk in a terrible approximation of a British accent?” my mother winced like my accent hurt her ears. I didn’t even realize that I was doing it.

“That wasn’t my doing, but I am afraid you’ll have to get used to that if he desires – he’s the man of the house now, isn’t he?” my Aunt smiled. I was clearly kept in the dark for a reason, but I got the distinct impression that babysitting was more than a favor – it was a test.

My mom opened the door wider, invited her sister in, and asked me to have a seat. She remained standing. “What has Alice told you about our life in Surrey?”

“I saw a photograph of you and her in the bath and this paddle, so I kind of worked out that you were brought up to believe that girls aren’t entitled to modesty – and need to learn to behave?”

My sister was waiting, arms folded, wearing a white robe as well. I assumed she’d be asleep because she usually slept in. She wasn’t working and hadn’t been looking for a job.

“He’s won the bet, on your feet,” my mom directed my sister to stand up. Janis looked skeptical and disappointed.

“I can’t believe this,” Janis frowned angrily – although it wasn’t entirely directed at me.

“I told you that if you have a problem with any of it, you simply have to pack your things and find a new place. I’m not able or willing to support you, and I’ve decided it best to go back to how things should work. It’s the best thing for everyone. I’ll miss you, but when my sister and I were your age, we thought we knew it all. I left when I was about your age. I couldn’t wait to get away from my parents, but now I’ve realized that discipline really wasn’t as bad as it sounds.”

I was starting to get an idea of what was about to happen.

“I assume that your Aunt told you about the bet, and you are comfortable with everything?” my mom asked me.

“I’ve told him nothing; I think he should hear it from you,” my Aunt relied on my behalf. “He probably wouldn’t have believed me unless he saw you and Janis were willing to take things this far.”

I was genuinely curious.

“You dodgy cow,” my Mom’s British accent became a little more pronounced around her sister – as if it rubbed off and was contagious. “You enjoyed babysitting your cousins, right?”

“Yeah,” I shrugged – uncertain where this was going.

“Naturally, he would; they are a couple of sluts,” My sister frowned angrily.

“Then you’d have that in common with them, from what I hear,” my Aunt defended the girls.

“I fuck who I want, when I want, from what I understand about my cousins, they would fuck anyone, anywhere, at any time, just to get a little action, a couple of eager little cock hounds,” Janis pouted.

Instead of taking the bait and arguing, my Aunt turned to my mother and simply observed, “I can see what you mean, she’s in dire need of being taken in hand.”

“You really think that Dalton is up to the job?” My mom asked my Aunt. I started to feel butterflies emerge in my stomach as the realization that my mother wanted me to babysit my older sister started to cross my mind. The difference between her and my cousins was that I knew Janis would resist and probably kick my ass if I tried to put her in her place.

“You’ll have to ask him, but I’d reckon you should start calling him Mister Dalton if you want him to take you seriously,” my Aunt said.

“Mister Dalton, is it?” my mom smirked. “I had to call my brothers Mister from the time they were in diapers. That’ll take some getting used to around the house.”

“You expect me to babysit Janis?” I asked. Janis’s sullen face and lack of argument told me that she wasn’t shocked by the question – she knew about the bet before I arrived.

“In a manner of speaking,” my Mom considered her words carefully. “This should come as no surprise, but your father and I are getting a divorce. We had remained together out of convenience, mostly to have a common front around you lot, but after recent events, we can’t continue to pretend.”

“What recent events?” I was puzzled.

“You may want to sit down,” My mom offered sweetly.

“Mom fucked a bunch of dudes behind Dad’s back,” My sister blurted out angrily. I took a seat in the living room – that news came as a complete shock.

Mom blushed and didn’t deny it. She took a seat as well. “I’ve been naughty over the last few years, and your father ignored my needs. He was willing to pretend he had no inkling, and I am sure he had his dalliances when he traveled as well. I am a bit of a nympho, and I managed to muck up things at my job. I got caught shagging several of the executives and got fired.”

“How did they find out?” My mind was blown.

“The details don’t really matter too much, but in this case, they opened the door to the executive room and found me shagging a few of the fellows, and there goes a potential reference from a job I’ve had for almost twenty years. It’s not something I am proud of, but I realized that I was a lot happier when I lived with some structure and discipline. Your father provided none of that, he spoiled me, and I wanted for nothing – had all the freedom in the world to do as I please, spend as a I please. I made a royal mess of our finances and maxed our credit cards out as well.”

I was shocked.

“We’ll keep the house in the divorce; your sister and I will probably keep our cars, but they aren’t paid off, so we’ll have to work hard to make the payments, pay for insurance and upkeep, food, and utilities. I know you are still in High School, but you are nearing the end of that, you’ve proven yourself to be resourceful and responsible. I’d like you to take the role of head of household, and man of the house, Mister Dalton.”

My sister groaned, appearing to suppress a desire to give me or her mother a tongue lashing.

“That was the bet?” I asked – trying to make sense of it. “My Aunt won, and now you are stuck with me being in charge?”

“Who said that your Aunt won?” My mom seemed perturbed by my question.

“No, it wasn’t a bet like that,” My Aunt explained. “I had faith that you’d be able to babysit your cousins, and you would be responsible and patient enough to manage it. Your mum, on the other hand, wasn’t so certain.”

“What would have happened if you had won the bet?” I asked my mother “Janis would be in charge?”

My Aunt and Mom laughed hysterically at the very notion, and my older sister Janis frowned and pouted. I assumed I was right, but their reaction puzzled me.

“No, Janis is the worst of us and needs discipline as much as any girl I’ve ever seen. She’d make short work of what little finances we have and be lazy. I’ve provided your sister a choice, she can remain here and get on board with whatever rules you set, or I’ll help her pack. That’s all I can do for your sister?”

I couldn’t imagine Michael would have been put in charge because he was irresponsible and goofy – so I asked what would have happened.

“I’d have had to rise to the occasion and put things in order,” My Aunt explained that she’d have to move in. “We’d have probably revisited you learning to take charge, much the way I’ll have to do with Mister Archie now that you’ve inspired him to step up.”

“You’d take orders from Archie?” my mom was shocked.

“I didn’t say that,” My Aunt replied to the question. “He’s Mister Archie to me, and I will respect him and set a proper example for my girls on how to behave but I’d like Mister Dalton to pop over now and again to check on us, and mentor my son. I’ve no doubt in a few years, he’d be ready to take over if I haven’t found a proper husband by then.”
I was so confused.

“I have a feeling that Mister Dalton is going to have his hands full with me and his sister,” My mom seemed possessive of me – unwilling to share. “It’ll be up to him, obviously.”

“I am still confused by what you want me to do, Mom?” I asked pointedly.

“They want you to take charge of the house,” my sister interrupted and answered for my mother – clearly unhappy about the decision.

“That’s right,” my mom confirmed. “You’d take charge of the accounts, and manage the finances, make the rules for the house, settle disputes, and provide discipline.”

“You want me to take over the bank account?” I was surprised and excited but confused. This was a big opportunity, and I wasn’t sure I was worthy of it.

“You can’t do a worse job than me of that,” my mom explained with a shrug. She didn’t seem the least bit concerned about signing over her bank accounts to me. “Your father and I have already dissolved our joint accounts. I can put your name on my remaining accounts on Monday and go over the details of the bills and finances, but I have no doubts that you can handle that part of things.”

“Does Dad know about this? Does Michael?” I asked who else my mother had discussed this with.

“I wasn’t sure you’d even take the job, and from the look on your face, I am not certain you want it. I had a conversation with your sister about our need for discipline and her options after I spoke to my sister this morning. We’d either be reporting to you or my sister after you got here today. However, there has been no need to tell your father, and we’ll have a conversation with your little brother when he gets back home. He spent the night at a friend’s house.”

“I want the job, I am flattered you’d make the offer. Are you sure you want me to be in charge? All the time?” I was puzzled.

I noticed hesitation on my mother’s face as she looked at my sister for guidance. She took a moment to consider her words. “There’s no scenario in which this works if we don’t do it full-time and shift back and forth, and there was never any doubt about your maturity and attention to detail. I am no Spring chicken – so it’s not like there would be a line of suitors willing to knock on my door to take on the role.”

“I am confused then; why didn’t you just talk to me about it? Why send me to my aunt's house?”

“It’s one thing to talk, and you might have told me what I wanted to hear. Your Aunt felt that if you could handle her precocious girls, then you’d have the patience to deal with your sister and me. There was also a matter of how inclined you were to apply discipline when needed.”

I was confused by my mother’s explanation.

“The daft old slag means that she wondered if you can roast her bum or not,” my Aunt smiled at me – clearly confident that I could do that. “You slappers might as well drop the linen and stop the grinning – I think twenty on each bum should be sufficient for starters.”

My mom stood up; and directed my sister to stand as well. Janis was far more reluctant to obey but got off the couch and stood up. My mother was the first to drop her robe, revealing a bald pussy, big tits, and a surprisingly sexy body.

“Mister Dalton’s seen far more attractive quims than ours, Janis. You may as well get used to being starkers, if your brother tells you to strip down, then you’ll take it all off,” my mom explained.

Janis groaned and objected. I was about to speak, but my Mom chided her instead. “I raised you to think that girls deserve modesty, and that’s my fault. You’ve nothing but a quim and two milk sacks hanging from your chest, Janis. It’ll do you some good to be knocked off your high horse; get your kit off right now.”

“Thank your lucky stars that your brother won the bet, Janis,” my Aunt assured her. “I’d have locked you out of your room, and made you go about completely starkers for at least a month to get over your bashfulness.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” my Mom nodded and told me that I’d be in charge of deciding what both of them where or don’t where around the house. “I’ll pack my things and remove them from the Master bedroom and move yours in there by the end of the day. Show us first that you can knock the smirks off of our faces and put us in our place,” my Mom challenged me.

[[[ image 10_attitude.jpg goes here centered ]]]

“I can’t believe you are going to subject me to this indignity, I haven’t even done anything wrong,” my sister was still wearing the robe, but she was at least standing up.

“You’ve been lazy, selfish, narcissistic, prideful, lacking in domestic skills, and think your shit doesn’t smell, Janis. You’ve done more than enough to warrant an attitude adjustment today and every day for the rest of your wretched little life. If I can be subjected to it; than you can as well. There is the door if you can’t stand a little tap on the bum.”

My sister growled but dropped her robe -revealing a hairy bush, and a big ass; her tits were much fuller than I imagined they would be. “This is such bullshit,” my sister complained, adding that she’d only do it if my mom was going to get the same thing.

“You’d get twenty on your arse every day as an attitude adjustment from me,” my Aunt assured her. “That’s not including what you’d get for the day-to-day fuck ups and backtalk you’d make me endure.”

“When we were younger,” My mom nodded in agreement, “My parents believed that even the most well-behaved girls needed a daily reminder to mind their manners and behave themselves – we got twenty, nice and hard from the cane on our arses in the living room in front of our siblings every day – twice on Sundays.”

“Oh, I forgot about Sundays,” my Aunt smirked.

I had the paddle, and I was tired of my Aunt speaking for me. I cleared my throat and paused. I had learned during babysitting that by making the girls wait to hear what I had to say, they listened more carefully. “If you are going to stay here Aunt Alice, then you’ll strip off and you’ll strip off at the door just like my mum and sis are going to do,” I tried not to use an English accent, but I couldn’t help myself. It was just so easy to pick up when I heard them talk.

My Aunt stood there in silence for a moment and then began to kick off her heel and undress. “Gladly,” she said as she reached behind herself and let her dress fall to the ground.

“I agree with you that the girls need a daily reminder of who is boss, and that will continue until we have a firm understanding that I am the one in charge and not you,” I decided.

“I never said that..” my Aunt replied defensively, but I cut her off.

“I am not finished talking, and this is not YOUR house – so you’ll join the girls for an arse spanking, or you’ll hold your tongue until the end of my demonstration and then be asked to leave.”

My Aunt seemed genuinely pleased and surprised by my demand – she nodded. “I could use a proper arse roasting – I just wouldn’t want to wear out your arm before you left a proper impression of your sincerity on your mum and sister.”

“Who said that I am going to spank you on your arse?” I smiled a her and implied that I’d be spanking her on a different part of her body. She smiled back and nodded – surrendering her authority to me.

I lined up my sister and mother and started on my mom with the wooden paddle that bore her name. “Sheridan,” I announced as I directed her to bend at the knee, stick out her arse, and face forward.

“I’ve only two requests,” my mom asked as she complied with my instructions. She continued when I nodded and asked her to continue. “You can call me Sheridan or anything other than Mum if you want. I’d prefer that – I’ll answer to whatever, but where I came from, boys addressed their mum by their first name.”

“I am not a boy, I am a man, Sheridan. What’s the other request?” I asked firmly, placing the paddle to her ass and swinging hard.

“One!” my mom counted out loud. “I was going to request that you stop talking with a British accent because you are quite shite at it. I can endure that, if you are willing to let your Aunt give you some tips on how to swing that paddle?”

My Aunt was more than happy to show me how to improve my form. She demonstrated on my mother’s ass. “You want to swing and follow through – imagine you are extending your paddle through our bodies. You are stopping just at the edge of the bum. Your power comes from your wrists and your legs, not your arms. Let the twist of your wrists and hips do the work, and give your mum more than just a tap – it won’t break her. She’s been spanked more times than she’s been shagged, I am sure.”

My mom cried out, counting each time that my Aunt struck her ass and made it shake. “You want to see a tear in the eye, a red, runny nose, a nice pink ass, and no sign of a smirk or stubborn grimace on her face when you’ve finished. You should try to spank hard enough that you knock your mother’s quim juice out of her cunt each time you land a swat,” she demonstrated – causing my mom to blush as she counted.

“Are you proper turned on, Sheridan? You are such a wicked little troll, getting off on the paddle. That’s not how it’s supposed ta’ work. You should be crying, not gagging for cock by the time it’s all over,” my Aunt asked as she swung the paddle again.

“Fourteen,” my Mom counted. “I’ve not been given a proper spank in many a year, you old whore. Don’t flatter yourself, Alice. My gash would be soaked if you were blowing on the rim of my arse hole, or shoving your fist down my throat – I’m hornier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“I took the paddle from my Aunt and delivered another swat on my mom’s bare ass, using the techniques that Alice had taught me. “You will only fuck who I tell you to fuck, and if you want to play with yourself, you are going to ask permission, Sheridan!”

“Fifteen,” My mom counted. I half expected her to tell me that I had gone too far, and she’d shag whoever she damn well pleased. “I am a bit of a randy whore, who can’t resist an offer to hop on a cock, Mister Dalton. You are inviting a lot of trouble if you are willing for me to wake you up in the middle of the night to ask if I can flick my bean.”

My Aunt was about to say something when I swung the paddle between my mother’s legs and spanked her bald pussy. “You wake me up in the middle of the night, and I’ll make you flick your bean in the backyard! I am talking about at dinner, or when I feel like being amused watching you have a wank!”

“I am not going to masturbate in front of you, and certainly not Michael,” my sister interrupted to insist she wouldn’t agree to those terms as my mom shivered and counted out the swat from the paddle that landed on her pussy.

“It’s not your turn to run your gobby mouth, and you’ll finger your bum or quim when I grant you permission, or you’ll be made to leave, Janis! I am not about to let you have any privacy, girls don’t need modesty!”

“Oh, don’t tell me that you bought into this old-fashioned mumbo-jumbo jibberish about girls not needing modesty. That may have been how people felt twenty years ago, but attitudes are changing! It was an idea made up by old perverts that feared powerful women owning their own sexuality,” my sister stubbornly frowned, hands on her bare hips as she glared at me.

Her droopy tits looked so cute hanging naturally in front of her, as she tried to stare me down. I looked right at her nipples – instead of in her angry eyes. It helped me to defuse the situation and demonstrate that I wasn’t going to be intimidated easily.

My Aunt spoke up and unleashed a fiery rebuke on my sister before I could respond. She advised me not to break my rhythm and continue spanking my mother.

“I was raised that way, and your mum was too, and we’re better for it because we grew up without modesty or vanity. We were loved and not abused, but we also learned our quims were for pleasing and not teasing. We didn’t come up with the hangups and body issues, nor the bitchy attitudes that selfish snotty girls have – old ways get passed down from generation to generation because they work, Janis.”

“Sixteen,” my Mom counted and absorbed another swat on her pussy, bending forward to make it easier for me to target her cunt. “I drove your father off with my vanity, and bitching, constantly mocking his manhood, chasing after more cock and forgetting my place. He was too afraid to talk down to me and put me in my place, beneath him in the pecking order. He let me run amok and encouraged it – I don’t see it as any grand thing to be allowed to be an insufferable cunt, but I raised you to be one by never teaching you respect and obedience.”

“If that’s what you want, then that’s fine! Why force this on me?” my sister countered defensively.

“No one’s forced a damn thing on you,” I turned to my sister and swung another hard blow against my mother’s pussy with the paddle. “You are old enough to pack your shit and walk out the door. I’ll help you load up the car, but if you stay here then you’ll obey my rules! I want to bring you by my Aunt’s house one day and show you off as a proper role model for your cousins!”

My aunt flashed an approving smile – she fully agreed with my response to Janis.

[EddieDavidson]

[EddieDavidson]

“This is embarrassing and degrading,” Janis announced – she didn’t take a step away from the living room. She didn’t try to use her hands to cover her nudity. She simply demanded attention and acknowledgment – like she wanted to argue with me about it and defend my actions.

I felt like she wanted me to prove to her that it was all fair and it wasn’t ever meant to put women on equal footing with men.

“Aye, it has to be a bit because if not you get too big for your britches, I assure you – you should thank your lucky stars that your brother wants the job of being in charge. If not, I’d have put my son into Dalton’s room, and you and my daughters would have to bunk up in a much smaller room. You need a bit of tough love, lass! This is not meant to break you down, but your pride and discourteous behavior is not going to attract a man or endear you to many.”

Once I finished with my mother, I took a short break and examined her red pussy and ass. I was pleased that I left her throbbing and sore. “How was that?” I asked, “Did I pass your little test?”

“That’s a fair question, Mister Dalton,” my mom rubbed her ass and looked a pitiful. “You gave me a decent spanking, I didn’t expect you to spank my quim, but I’ve nothing against it when I deserve it. I’m an old slapper, but my twat is still sensitive enough that you’ve given me more tingles than pain – so I am hornier than I was before we started talking.”

My mom’s British accent had almost fully returned after that experience. “Good, squat down and finger fuck your arse hole, but don’t let yourself cum. Sheridan, if you amuse me and ream your filthy pooh hole like you are working a finger puppet at a Punch and Judy show, I’ll let you have a proper wank on the living room floor.”

I had included a mish-mosh of some of the things I heard my cousins say when I was at their house.

There was a long, stunned pause. My mom’s jaw froze and I could tell she hadn’t expected me to give her such a vulgar instruction. My Aunt’s reaction was to stare at my mom – trying to gauge her response.

Janis gave me an incredulous look – clearly expecting my mom to refuse the instruction.

“On second thought,” my mom’s tone was dour – it sounded like she was having a change of heart about the entire thing, but then she squatted, legs apart. “I take back my request from earlier – you can use British slang. The more you practice, the more authentic it’ll sound – just let me teach you where to place the emphasis in your words, please,” she sucked her finger wet, and then slid it all the way up her asshole to the knuckle and began to masturbate her ass slowly.

“You are next, Aunt Alice,” I said.

“It’s just Alice if you please, Mister Dalton,” she smiled at me politely. “We were to call our aunties and mum by their title, but boys never did. They had to show proper respect for the elder males in the family, but the best way to show me respect is to talk to me without any.”

“Okay, you babbling cow, if you are done lecturing, spread your legs and give me a proper target to spank your gash,” I instructed.

My Aunt showed me some positions she could stand in that made it easier to spank her pussy and tits, and she seemed impressed by the time I reached six.

“Any time you visit, I want you to strip off completely, and when I come to your house, I expect you to strip down after your daughters greet me at the door! They’ll show me their dirty little quims as well!” I insisted.

“Seven, yeah, Mister Dalton, that’s not gonna be a problem, the girls like being starkers, and I prefer it as well; I just put on clothes because I’ve gotten used to wearing them, and didn’t think Mister Archie wanted to see bare pussy constantly – growing up with three women and all.”

“He doesn’t mind it, and he knows what your gash looks like – so you’ll ask him if he prefers you strip down all the time at home when you get back,” I instructed, as I smashed her titty with the paddle – her nipples only stiffened in response as her boobs turned red.

“Eight, aye, I’ll ask him if he minds, but he’s inclined to let me do as I please – I am not asking him to be head of household. He’s a bit more maturing to do before he can bear that, and by then I may be married to a proper man who will take me and my daughters in hand.”

“Don’t fool yourself, Alice,” I smashed her other titty with my paddle. “You are an old slag, and a munter with a smelly gash, that’ll shag your nephew to fill your insatiable need for cock – who would marry an old whore with a worn-out arsehole from all the cocks that you sit on?” I meant to only tease her.

“Nine,” she seethed angrily. “You need to hit a bit my droopy bazookas harder than that if you want to put a sting on me comparable to what you said – you’ve the right of it. I am a worn out old whore, but I still can’t ask Mister Archie to step up. I am jealous that my younger sister has you. You’ve taken to discipline like my daughters did to gobbling knobs.”

I was flattered, and genuinely believed she meant what she said. I could tell from the crestfallen look on her face that she felt defeated.

“You can’t make your rent, you’ll move in here, and I’ll decide who you can date – then we’ll find someone who can be trusted to want you more than they do a chance to poke my cousins.”

My mother flashed me a look of disapproval, but she continued to finger her asshole.

“What that’s that look for, Sheridan? You were going to invite my Aunt to live here with us – am I in charge? If it’s up to you, I’d say not.”

“It’s immaterial,” my Aunt counted the next swat, and explained that she wouldn’t impose. “I just need to get my shite together and suck a few more cocks. I made the offer to run things here if you didn’t work out, but I’ll feel this spanking on my quim for a week – if there was a test or a doubt, you’ve passed with flying colors, Mister Dalton.”

“You ARE in charge,” my mom assured me as I swatted her sister again – this time on the pussy. “I’m just shocked and proud that you’d be generous enough to open the doors to a family that you just met. That’s unexpected, but I’m pleased that you would be so generous.”

“You shouldn’t be surprised,” I swatted my Aunt again and made her almost fall over. “You raised me, so obviously, I share the values that family is family. I am glad you would let me make that decision if Alice needed to move in.”

“This is disgusting; you are beating Mom and Aunt Alice and making them compliant, and now they are kissing your ass and telling you how proud they are of you?” my sister pouted angrily.

“You’ll get your turn soon enough, girly,” my Aunt counted eighteen. “I am no real worse for the wear that I had my attitude adjusted – I miss having them daily. I may start it up with my daughters because it does wonder for clearing the mind. The shared pain between the giver and the recipient bonds us – makes us closer, because it’s so intimate. I am proud of your brother because he’s a man, and I am tempted to take his offer, but I don’t want to take advantage. He needs time to settle in with you lot and not have my girls and me mucking things up around here in the mix.”

Once I finished with my aunt, she expected me to let her finger fuck her ass. She didn’t ask permission, but I could tell that she was anticipating it. “How are your milk sacks?” I asked as I reached out and pinched her sore, stiff nipples.

“Still dry, no milk for Mister Archies tea, you gave me some throbbing honkers, but left me gagging for more, Mister Dalton. It’s hard to believe it’s the first time you’ve spanked a set of tits properly before.”

“You’ll ask Mister Archie to give you twenty, when you start up the daily attitude adjustments at home. He's ready for that much, and if he’s bored, or tired, then you’ll spank your daughters and go without that day,” I decided.

“You are head of household for this house, not mine, Mister Dalton,” my Aunt pursed her lips. I was about to remind her that Archie helped me to spank his sister and that it was idea to spank their pussies. “That being said, I’d feel a bit guilty about asking him to roast my melons daily – this has made me so horny that I’d jump your bones and fuck your brains out. I don’t think it would adjust my attitude as much as it would make me want for cock, and I’d have to reach for one of my latex lovers after he finished with me.”

“Fine, ask him for permission to masturbate, and if he grants it, then you will do it with the rest of the girls,” I said.

“I can’t do that – we’ve come pretty far in one day with the girls playing with themselves out in the open around him. He’s never seen me going at it the way he has his sisters,” she frowned.

“You’ll ASK him if he wants to watch and get his permission – you won’t be masturbating freely at home any longer. I want you to set a PROPER example for my cousins and not allow them to run amok – you being able to close your door anytime you like and ride your quim ticklers is not setting a good example, you horny git!”

“Quim tickler,” my mom giggled as she repeated the term I had just said – that clearly amused her.

“You will surrender all of your quim and arse ticklers as well; doors will be left open when you shower and use the bathroom – I don’t want you having any privacy at home, Sheridan.”

“I’ve no problem letting you dole out my toys, but I can assure you that you don’t want me to have a pooh with the door open – and what about Michael? He’s got to live here as well.”

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by me or my sister, that my Mom hadn’t expressed any concern for my sister witnessing or smelling her using the bathroom.

“We’ll have a conversation with Michael, and if he’s comfortable with it, you’ll address him as Mister Michael, and he’ll be calling you Sheridan,” I decided and affirming. “Doors will remain open – I am the one who makes the rules, and I don’t trust you not to wank off any chance you get.”

My mom appeared reluctant; perhaps I had gone too far with that last rule. I insisted that my mom remove the finger from her bum. “Now, there is no reason to deny me a chance to tease myself, Mister Dalton. I didn’t refuse. I just hadn’t thought about it beyond having a talk with your brother about your role, not anything changing for him.”

“Suck your poopy finger, so I don’t have to listen to your blithering foolishness,” I said. My mom’s finger was slick with her juices, but there wasn’t a speck of shit on it. She sucked it obediently and continued to squat.

“Things will change for me, you, Janis, and Michael – there is no living here with you two twats being kept in line where Michael can just ignore you. I’ve seen how it is for my cousin Archie, and he largely left his sisters alone. If Michael wants to ignore you that will be HIS choice – not yours. Is that understood?”

“Yessff, Mister Dalton,” my mom said.

“Oh for Pete’s sake,” my sister frowned angrily.

“Ass out, knees bent, facing forward,” I pointed where I wanted my sister to stand for her spanking, and then told my Aunt to squat down behind my mother. “You’ll stick your finger up Sheridan’s arse, and finger it – tickle her pooh hole, and get her hot and bothered. If you do a good enough job the two of you can have an orgasm.”

My Aunt clearly wanted to make some snarky remark, probably about the fact that technically she didn’t live there and didn’t have to ask my permission to get herself off. She started to finger her sister’s ass while squatting with her legs apart as she looked up at me with admiration.

“Fine, get this over with, I hope it makes you feel powerful,” Janis placed her hands on her knees. There is no easy way to spank sense and respect into a girl’s ass other than the old fashioned way of doing it one spank at a time. I could have spanked my sister’s ass a hundred times that afternoon and it wouldn’t have changed her attitude.

It took weeks of daily spankings to move the dial and start to improve Janis’s attitude. My mom largely fell in line. She said it was kind of like riding a bicycle. She acted like my lieutenant and enforcer – keeping Janis from giving me attitude, and reinforcing to Michael that she had chosen to hand over the reins to me.

My little brother was surprisingly understanding about the entire thing. He was shocked at first, and thought that we were joking because I decided not to let the girls wear clothes when I first talked to him about how things would be.

Once I ordered them to strip, and explained that I’d be keeping the two of them naked, he believed it was real. My mom and Janis moved all of my stuff out of my room and into the master bedroom. Sheridan said that it smelled of my father and reminded her of him and all the times that she betrayed him and fucked someone there.

She said it was better to set up in my room. I allowed my sister to remain in her own room but threatened to take it away if she didn’t comply with my wishes. I sent her out looking for a job and believed she really started trying to find one after the discipline started.

At home, things largely remained as they always had been – except the girls were naked, deferred to me, and called me and my brother “Mister”.

The English accent wore off when I went back to school the following week, but I remembered many of the vulgarities and terms that I had learned at my Aunt’s house.

I required the girls to sit on the floor while nude – that took a bit of adjusting for both of them. The tile floors were chilly and they were uncomfortable but after a few days it became the norm as well.

I knew my mom was still fucking around with guys while I was at school, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. She was truly horny – all the time. I assumed that a woman that was wet and aroused all the time, was the equivalent of a man with a constant hard-on.

Sheridan set a great example for my sister, obediently masturbating in front of Michael and me while we laughed at her – usually being required to stop and start many times just to frustrate her and build up her anticipation. My sister was reluctant to start masturbating openly, but eventually, she gave up on having modesty and started fingering herself or using a dildo around us when we gave her permission.

After about a week, Michael came to me and asked if he could give my mom a bath. “Why would you want to do that? is Sheridan filthy?”

“it’s not that. Mom used to give me baths, so I just thought it’d be fun since it feels like the tables have turned and now we are in charge that I give her one.”

“As long as you address her as Sheridan, that should be fine,” I said. I hadn’t thought of it as “tables turning” because my mom had never made me squat naked while eating off the floor.

“Obviously, I would call her Sheridan to her face. I meant Mom just when you and I are alone,” Michael clarified. He became my helper—much like Mister Archie. He checked on Mom and my sister, even put them to bed and turned off the lights in their rooms at night.

When we first told my mom that he was going to give her a bath, she was flattered but thought we were kidding. I didn’t watch, but I got the impression that my brother washed her EVERYWHERE – pussy, asshole, under the tits, every crack and crevice on her body.

All I know is that after that, my mom really enjoyed bath time. So much so, that she got envious when my brother asked if he could wash down our sister the same way. Janis had accepted all the rule changes, occasionally questioning, debating, and even arguing.

I didn’t have a problem with that as long as it was respectful, but I had to make her stand in the corner, or spank her when she sassed me. The first time I made her clench a bar of soap in her mouth she was outraged, but by the third week she had to hold a bar of soap in her mouth at almost every meal and eat after the rest of us were finished.

She slapped Michael the first time he gave her a bath – I am not sure what happened, but I assumed he goosed her and she reacted. She came out of the bath dripping wet, apologizing and begging for him to finish. “I didn’t know you were going to wash me THERE, Mister Michael. I wasn’t ready, I am so sorry! Did I give you a black eye.”

I interceded, and made my sister kneel at the bath tub as a punishment. I dunked her head and held it under water for thirty seconds at a time – twenty times. I thought it fit the crime – and by the end, my sister looked like a drowned rat and was incredibly apologetic.

“Obviously, a bath is meant to clean your filthy shite hole and drippy cunt. Did you think you are entitled to the exclusive right to touch it?” I demanded during the short span of time around, I hold her head out of the water for the first time.

“No, Mom and I touch each other all the time, I just didn’t think Mister Michael would,” she gasped, about to say something else - and with insufficient time to take a deep breath and hold it before I dunked her head a second time.

Dalton walked in and around the nineteenth time that I dunked our sister’s head, and asked for mercy for her – “It’s not necessary. If Janis doesn’t want me to wash her butt, I won’t do it.”
“Garbll-garblll….You waited until I was dunked nineteen times to rescue me?” my sister chided him for speaking up now.

“If you don’t want to wash her after this – I don’t blame you, but Janis needs to learn to respect you as an authority figure, and this is an appropriate punishment for slapping you when you touched her,” I insisted as I held her down under the water again,” I insisted.

“Then why do you get to punish Janis for me? She slapped ME, but you are having all the fun,” he complained.

“You think this is fun? It’s a lot of work,” I clarified – my arms were sore, I had gotten wet in the process of dunking my sister while she struggled a little.

“You are smiling,” he observed.

I smiled and asked him if he wanted to help me punish the girls and give them attitude adjustments – after that, I included him in every attitude adjustment or punishment session when he was available. Michael didn’t have the arm strength to do much – but he definitely enjoyed being included. I realized that I was doing to him what my Aunt had done to Archie.

My best intentions were to protect my brother from the harsh realities of disciplining my sister and mother. However, he knew what was happening and felt excluded.

It was about a month or more before I heard from my Aunt again. I could have called her, but I had been busy with school and the changes at home.

I invited them over because I was anxious for news. My cousins were excited to see me. Veronica and Betty stripped at my front door. I wasn’t sure if that was because they had been told that I expected that or because they were used to doing it at home now.

Archie walked confidently, he had a small growth spurt after my visit, and seemed taller, and more mature.

My Aunt stripped down, and gave me a huge hug, before going around to my mom and sister, and then introducing herself to Michael politely.

[[[ image 10_train.jpg goes here centered ]]]

I shared that I had been busy, and learned a lot over the last month. “The rules change dynamically on a day by day basis as we try things out, and see what sticks, and what doesn’t work,” I explained. My cousin Archie sat at the table with me and Michael. However, I insisted that my Aunt sit on the kitchen floor with the rest of the girls.

All except for my sister, who took a position standing a few feet from the table, palms flat on the top of her head, legs apart, mouth slightly open with a bar of soap clenched in her teeth. “As an example, my cunt of a sister can’t seem to keep her fingers out of her pussy during dinner, so she has to stand where we can watch her closely.”

“What did she do to earn a bar of soap in her gob?” Archie asked.

“She was born with a slit,” Michael joked.

“I like you, already. I think we’ll get on famously,” Archie smiled at my little brother.

“The real reason is that she talks too much during dinner, and this is one of several daily attitude adjustments my sister has to have to teach her to shut her yap when Men are talking. Janis having her mouth packed with soap also makes us feel less guilty about the fact she doesn’t get to eat dinner while the rest of us eat.”

“You said you were strict on your sister, Mister Dalton,” Veronica was eavesdropping from the floor. “You weren’t kidding – I am glad our brother hasn’t started anything quite like that. We still eat like puppies when he permits.”

I was glad that my cousins didn’t realize that I had been lying when I bragged about how strict things were at my house.

“Caw, I should have you and Veronica stand titty to titty, clenching a bar of soap between the two of you knobs once a week just to remind you how good you got it at our house,” Archie teased her.

“I can see why you started talking like a British person,” Michael observed adding, “It’s very colorful.”

“They are cheeky monkeys, aren’t they?” I tried to imitate a British accent, but judging from the groans of the others I had a long way to go.

“How about you Alice, do you sit at the table for dinner at home?” I asked. My Aunt was flat on her ass, eating off the floor like her daughters and my mom.

“I usually sit at the table, but if Archie wants me to strip for dinner, I’m not above sitting on the tile to set a proper example,” my Aunt answered respectfully.

“If you were to move here, you’d be sitting on the floor at every meal – not allowed to wear clothes at all,” I warned my Aunt.

“Is that true Aunt Sheridan?” Veronica asked excitedly. “Are you allowed to be starkers 24/7?”

“My daughter and I aren’t allowed to wear clothes at home without special permission from my son, but I do all the yard work in a bikini.”

“Even in the backyard? You’ve got a privacy fence,” Betty pouted sympathetically – like she thought that I was being unfair not letting my mom be naked while she and my sister did all the lawn work.

“I just do what I am told, Veronica. I don’t question the rules,” my mom replied – that was true. She never pushed back or told me no to anything. It was only my sister who sometimes refused to commit right away to a new rule, but she had also never outright refused. The option for refusing was to move out, and she clearly had no place better to go.

“Do you sleep in a dog cage like Janis, Aunt Sheridan?” Betty asked.

Oops, I had forgotten I had lied about that. There was some confusion all around as my mom and sister grappled with the question. I was prepared to come clean when my mom replied, “I’ve not seen any dog cage, but if my son has a surprise gift for Mother’s day waiting for me in the garage, you just ruined it.”

It was close to Mother’s Day. I had actually intended to give my mom a “back to normal” day where she could do whatever she wanted for Mother’s day.

“I am not going to sleep in a dog cage, I’ll move out before that happens,” my sister mumbled around the soap – but she didn’t spit it out.

“I am so tired of your whinging, slut. You will sleep with whom you are told, where you are told, and do you know how I know?” my Aunt asked rhetorically before adding, “Because you’ve got your hands on top of your head, and your teeth wrapped around that soap like it’s your favorite flavor of cock. If you were above being logged in a cage like a dog, you’d have moved out weeks ago.”

My sister didn’t deny it – she frowned and adjusted the soap in her teeth, looking down.

“A cage isn’t a bad idea, but money is a bit tight. Janis and Sheridan haven’t found replacement jobs. Sheridan ruined her professional reputation sleeping around. She may have to start working with you as a whore.”

My mother’s face blanched with shame.

“That’s not a bad idea, but a wrinkled pussy like Sheridan’s worn out cock bag wouldn’t fetch more than a fiver, and she’d have to pay the punters to put it in her filthy arsehole. My sister might be a laugh for those who want her to gobble their knob to get them ready to take me on if I am being double teamed, but I’d not be able to charge extra for her services,” my Aunt joked with a big laugh. Archie and her daughters laughed as well. Michael seemed confused but that was partly because my Aunt’s English chatter was so fast that it was hard to follow it all.

“I’ve no doubt you are in high demand with the blind, but judging from that wreck of a car you are driving, I’d say you are still sitting only a few cocks a month. I shag more than that in a day, and I’d be a fantastic whore!” my mom bragged facetiously.

“Capital idea, You and cunty Junior can start working with Alice if you don’t have a job by next Friday – you were born with wet cunts. You can be cock warmers and if you are going to chase after dick, you may as well get paid for it,” I said. I felt I really nailed the accident time but the reason nobody laughed was the gravity of my threat sounded very real.

I was just bluffing and had not given it much thought – it was more of a reaction to the back and forth between my mom and her sister than anything else.

“I’ll stand here naked while you guys have a laugh, and I’ll even get in a fucking dog cage, but I am NOT going to sell my pussy,” My sister spat out the soap on the floor and brought her hands down to her sides.

“Pick that soap back up and get back to where you were,” my mom reacted angrily to my sister. “If your brother wants us to rent out our pussies then you’ll spread your legs just like I would – you love cock!”

“He won’t let me date, or go out to any bars, and I am not going to be a laughing stock, mom! Why do you make me degrade myself like this?” my sister complained angrily. She didn’t leave the kitchen, instead she stood there waiting for an answer.

“Who would date a slaggy whore like you and me? You call up, lads when your brother is at school. Hell, I’ve seen you chat up guys after they finish with me and take them into your room, so don’t give me any shite about how hard up you are!”

“You have both been fucking guys while I am at school?” I interjected.

My sister and mom continued to argue and ignored me, until I brought out the paddle, and began to spank their asses in front of everyone else.

“Aye, you know I can’t help myself,” my mom agreed.

I had the two of them spend the rest of dinner clenching a bar of soap, nose to nose, nipple to nipple, hands on top of their heads while the rest of us ate. I seriously asked my Aunt how to get the two of them started as escorts.

“I work for a couple of phone book services; they do the screening and booking. I get 150, and they get a hundred. It’s an hour, but most guys cream and then want me to leave, so I am there maybe five to thirty minutes. The only problem is that the work is slow.”

“You get paid to shag?” Veronica asked – when she finally figured out what her mother was talking about.

“You dim-witted bimbo,” Archie chastised her for being naïve “How many times did mum tell you that she’s a whore?”

“I just thought she meant she was like us. You call us whores all the time,” Veronica said. Betty nodded, and admitted that she was just now figuring it out. “I just assumed you liked to shag like us. Guys actually pay YOU to fuck them?” she asked.

“Yeah, I am not as disgusting as you make me out to be; some guys find me attractive,” my Aunt smirked – feigning offense over the suggestion that it was shocking men would pay to fuck her.

“I didn’t mean it like that – I just don’t understand why guys would pay to hump you. They could just ask some horny slapper in a tavern, couldn’t they?” Veronica asked.

“They could, but a proper whore will keep the chatter to a minimum, do butt stuff, or whatever the punter wants, make them happy without expecting to be pleased in return, and then leave after the punter finishes up in them,” my Aunt explained.

“What’s a punter, then?” Veronica asked.

“Your uncles and my boyfriends are all punters,” Alice explained that the men she claimed to be dating or introduced as random uncles had paid her for sex.

This revelation blew Veronica and Betty’s mind.

“Did you think that mum was going out to dinner and a show with these saggy old sods and geezers? She gets paid to bend over and let them plug her arse with their cock,” Archie explained bluntly.

Veronica and Betty looked horrified and shocked, staring at each other.

“So, does that make Mister Johnson a punter? He gives me a fiver for a blowie now and then,” Veronica asked.

“He pays you?” Betty pouted, clearly disappointed.

“Aye, technically if you take money in exchange for sex, you are a whore, but I earn our rent with the sweat off of my arse, by bending over and taking it,” my Aunt explained before adding “business has been a bit slow – I don’t think there is enough to make it worthwhile to add Alice and Janis, and you lot,” she looked at my cousin and explained that they were too young to be hired by the escort agency.

“Awww,” they complained.

“Not to worry, I’ll take up a collection at school from my mates, five dollars to ride one of you slags,” Archie promised with sadistic snark. I knew he loved his sisters, and teasing them was just how they express their affection.

I also knew that the girls loved sex; I was surprised when they were completely bored with that arrangement.

“Great, we’ll split the money 100/30,” Archie joked that he’d keep five dollars of every five dollars that they made, and they would get 30%.

“That doesn’t sound fair,” Betty pouted.

“Fine, 100/50..but that’s more than you lot deserve, I’ll keep still five dollars of every five you make, and you get 50%.”

“That sounds good,” Veronica looked at Betty like that was the best offer the two would get, and Betty flashed a pleased smile and agreed as well.

My Aunt frowned, because she was savvy enough to know that math didn’t add up, but she also didn’t correct them.

That night, I made another offer for my Aunt to move in and this time she agreed. She was reluctant at first, but I was very persuasive.

I threatened to move Janis out of her room when she had the audacity to complain after dinner. She may have been pissed off, angry, and not agree that women don’t need modesty – but she stubbornly refused to leave.

That meant she had to obey the rules.

I arranged the move, rented the U-Haul truck, and even helped get my Aunt out of her lease. I kept my room just as it was. I moved my brother and Archie into my old room – which worked out great. They became thick as thieves and Michael loved all of the video games that Archie brought with him when he moved in. We bought so many more with the money the girls made as prostitutes.

Betty and Veronica are little earners, and by their senior year, they had been raking in several hundred dollars just working Friday night football games.

Archie loved having a friend to actually play games with, even though my old room was smaller than his old room.

My cousins Veronica and Betty were thrilled to share a room with Janis. They were overjoyed to finally be in a larger bed that was long enough that their legs didn’t hang off the end. They looked up to Janis like an older sister even though Janis could be a disobedient twat, and she seemed resistant to sharing her room – the simple fact was that it was the best thing that could have happened for Janis.

She took on an older sister and mentor role and began to set a better example for the two of them.

Janis also had an excuse to be silly on weekends and evenings and pretend to be a puppy with Betty and Veronica. The three of them had some fantastic and elaborate contests, and Janis loved winning the best puppy ribbon.

My Mom was shocked that she could get hired at the escort agencies. She really considered herself disgusting, but she was almost as hot as my Aunt. They booked a lot of gigs together, with guys who wanted to bang sisters.

My mom and Aunt thought nothing of having sex together – eating each other’s pussies, licking each other’s assholes, finger fucking was second nature to them. They didn’t like French kissing one another, but they didn’t like French kissing anyone. They both felt it was too intimate and led to eye contact.

When I wanted to really punish them together, forcing them to have a make out session in the living room session while everyone laughed at them did the trick. My Aunt had some elaborate BDSM gear at her house, and she taught me how to inflict exquisite pain and pleasure to her and my mother, and I eventually taught her son and my little brother.

I never saw my father again until the day I graduated from M.I.T. By that point, I had left the training of the women in my family in the capable hands of Michael and Archie. They had both grown into fine young men.

My mother and her sister are still whores, and they work out of a strip club in Tampa with Betty and Veronica, who are raising daughters of their own. Archie pimps and trains all four of them and will probably train some of his nieces when they get older.

My brother Michael went on to graduate from College at U.C.L.A. and his ride to college (and mine) was paid for fully by the money we made from whoring out the women of the family. He’s an Attorney in San Bernadino.

I married a submissive woman that believes in traditional gender roles, and that girls don’t have any use for modesty. I have two daughters and a son of my own that I raise in the traditional way. My sister lives with me in the capacity of a maid/house pet, which I suppose is the best way you can describe our relationship. My Sister isn’t my slave, because she can leave at any time.

She seldom gets angry, and I still give her attitude adjustments on a daily basis; my kids think “Aunt Janis” is their nanny. If she does complain about any order that I give her – I always remind her that she can leave at any time. She’s never actually taken me up on the offer, and I tease her about that as well.

“One of these days, Mister Dalton, I am going to have it up to here and stop obeying your every whim! You treat me like a little twat,” she says.

“That’s because you are a little twat,” I always remind her.

[EddieDavidson]

I have hundreds of pictures I created that would have been awesome, these are the best ones - I love her back to the camera.

[EddieDavidson]