Cousins Don't Need Modesty

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 wear or don’t wear 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.

“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, then 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 were 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. Try and smack the shite completely out of a girl. You won’t do it because a slag like your mum is full of it – but see what you can shift. You won’t get anywhere with half-measures – roast our asses and teach us a lesson. 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.