Jen Ch. 01

Morris contemplated what had gone wrong. Telling that harridan the precious daughter wasn't so perfect and getting Jen out of his hair had been a perfect idea only it all went wrong. He ended up spanking his niece, which wouldn't have been such a big deal except she was twenty-two and a very desirable young woman.

The way she said she would do whatever he wanted was so tempting he just couldn't resist teaching her a lesson. Never take it for granted someone will play fair and not take advantage. He thought she would have protested and not given in so easily, so he could claim a victory and continue with the plan of telling her mother. After spanking her he dare not tell anyone.

***

He watched Jen glance at the side of the minivan where he had stroked a post yesterday evening. She couldn't look him in the eye and kept her head down scrunched up in the back seat. The sons looked subdued too after a night out in a bar. They were more thoughtful than guilty over something, as she was.

Morris had plenty of time to think on the drive back to town. He told himself not to be so stupid and either continue with the plan or tell her what had really happened. Make it a warning about the demon drink. Either way he felt bad despite that mother of hers.

He dropped off the boys at their college rooms and continued in silence. Without being asked she dragged herself reluctantly out of the van and followed him to the house. "So, what now?" he asked.

"I guess, err. Cook something to eat?" she murmured.

"Good girl. Get cooking," he said, trying to sound confident and casual. She hated being called a girl but hadn't retaliated or even noticed. He watched her walk out of the room looking very subdued. He looked around the room noticing it did need a good clean so maybe he could string her along for a few days.

For once he sat at the dining table to eat instead of slobing out in front of the TV. Jen brought in two plates and set them down but before she could sit he said, "Bring me a beer."

Jen looked at him about to scold him for the lack manners. Instead she turned quickly to disappear into the kitchen before she riled him or she became too angry to stay. She figured he was still looking to push her beyond the limits of endurance and so win the game. In the kitchen she smiled. At least this way she was the focus of his attention and not her parents, so she was winning.

She skipped back to the table, pulled on the ring and sprayed him with warm beer. He hastily pushed back the chair from the can as it poured into his lap. She had dropped it in surprise onto the table where it continued to pour over him. "What was that for? You're a stupid girl!" Morris shouted in surprise. "I expected you to behave yourself, look at the mess, you spoiled dinner too," he exploded.

"Sorry Uncle, I didn't mean it," she squirmed.

He grabbed an arm and pulled her over his knee before he had a chance to think or she had a chance to resist. "No! Please Uncle, you can't do this, not again," Jen protested. She kicked her legs but a big strong hand, in the small of her back, held her down.

Thwack! A couple of hard smacks to the jeans covering a heart shaped, pert bottom, calmed him immediately. He realised he wasn't in a position to tell her parents now. Had she purposely pushed him into losing his cool?

"That was off the shelf and you shook it too. Don't you know to get a can from the fridge?" he asked.

"I'm sorry Uncle, I didn't know, we don't have beer in the house," she gulped and bit off the explanation that mother wouldn't allow it.

He listened and believed her. What was more interesting was the way she squirmed on his lap. Not trying to get away but something else. "Stand up!" he ordered. He took a good look at her. She stood with head bowed looking subdued and if he wasn't mistaken, looking flushed.

He knew women and knew how to treat them. Some had to be wooed and treated with respect while others liked rough play. He knew more than one needing to be treated hard in the bedroom and knew friends with wives who liked it that way the rest of the time too. It made him wonder.

"What do you say? Come on, you must remember from this morning," he said with a frustrated tone as though she were a stupid girl.

"Thank, thank you, uncle. Thank you for punishing me," she stammered. Jen couldn't help remembering the state of her panties and felt them clinging to her wet crotch after being over his knee. This confirmed what she had tried to dismiss this morning. She still couldn't understand why it excited her to be showing off to him.

"The t-shirt, is it a favourite?" he asked.

"Yes Uncle, I wore it special for the game," she said. The confusion from such a question was clear on her face.

"You know I don't like to be called uncle. You will call me sir," he stated.

Caught off guard she again complied, hoping to calm him and escape into the kitchen for a cloth. "Yes, uncle, Sir," she said.

"You can use that to clean up the mess, a fitting punishment, don't you think?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," she replied quickly.

"Well then?" he asked.

"I've, I'm, not, I forgot to," she began, but was interrupted.

"You promised to do as you were told and to accept punishment for wrong doing. Unless you want a proper spanking instead of a couple of slaps, do you? Do you want me to pull your jeans down to spank you for spilling beer everywhere?" he asked, still feigning anger.

It seemed a reasonable question but she couldn't think straight. Again a feeling of arousal was focusing her mind on those large strong hands. This morning they had touched her bottom, spanked her thinly protected ass, and now even through the jeans the feeling was there. She felt as though he had taken her and she must surrender to him.

"I can't uncle, I'm not wearing anything under it," she complained. From just the stare it was obvious he had too much over her and that she would have to give in. She lifted it up trying to cover her breasts not thinking to turn around. She knew this was wrong but couldn't stop herself. He took the t-shirt and rubbed his shirt and trousers with it.

"Here, soak up the mess on the table then put it back on. Why aren't you wearing a bra?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry sir. I got dressed in a hurry, you were leaving and I had to shower. I'm sorry sir," she kept repeating she was sorry. She tried to cover her breasts but it was difficult having to pick up the plate and mop up the mess she made.

Morris watched her breasts jiggle as she desperately tried to clean up. She looked even more excited and the swelling nipples revealed her arousal. The intense emotion brought tears to her eyes as she found it all so overwhelming. He too found it exciting but was old enough to be more in control.

"Put it on. Go on, it's a punishment so you remember to be more careful in future, girl. You'll dress more appropriately too. After dinner I'll get you something to wear," he told her. Something appropriate came to mind as he watched her fumbling around.

Pulling on the wet t-shirt wasn't easy but she managed to roll it down her belly. It now clung to her breasts emphasising the swollen nipples. It was slightly see-through but he tried not to stare as this might give her an advantage.

"You look a mess," he told her. "Now go and cook something else, and quickly. Don't forget a cold beer this time," he shouted, as she scurried away.

***

Morris managed to keep his eyes off the wet t-shirt during dinner but noticed his niece wrinkling her nose at the inescapable smell of beer rising from it. He had found a way of punishing her after all but still intended to spank her ass when the next opportunity arose.

Jen could hardly manage to sit still while eating dinner. The smell of beer drying on the t-shirt was a constant reminder of a humiliating punishment. Added to that was the awful feeling of being aroused when Uncle Morris saw her breasts. It was playing on her mind that he might notice she was aroused and take advantage of her.

What she couldn't accept yet was the idea of being driven into misbehaving by her state of pleasure. Jen hadn't even realised yet the state of sexual arousal had driven her to bare her breasts for him. That brazen display, combined with the humiliation of a spanking inflamed her passions.

"You can't get on with the chores like that girl. I'll get you something to wear, hurry up," he rebuked her. He led her to the spare bedroom. "Here, try these," he told her, with a tone of voice allowing no argument.

She felt unable to say a word and he was still rummaging through a wardrobe evidently not intending to leave the room. Jen pulled off the t-shirt, reluctant to pull off the jeans in front of him, especially as the panties were so damp between her legs.

"It's too small, Sir," she explained. The bra wasn't going to fit around her chest let alone cover her large breasts. She held it up in front of her attempting to maintain some privacy.

"What about this?" he asked, holding up an equally inadequate bra. "Well, just wear the dress then. I can't send you home to your mother stinking of beer. What you're wearing will have to go in the wash, so change into that," he told her brusquely. It should have been obvious what he was doing but he got away with it due to her inexperience and heated state.

Jen felt awkward dressing before her uncle and again there was an under-current of excitement to it. "It's alright uncle, sorry, I mean Sir. I can manage," she pointed out in a little weak voice; hardly likely to get her own way. "I'll come out to the lounge when I've changed," she managed to add.

"Nonsense, you don't seem to be able to do anything, not even get dressed properly," he said with disdain. "Those jeans will have to go in the wash, come on lets have them," he told her.

Jen decided to hand them over quickly just to get rid of him. She fumbled and fell back on the bed. There was no way of hiding her breasts and getting the jeans off but she tried anyway, ending up looking like a hunchback. He didn't leave even then. She was trying to hide the state of her panties which surely must have an obvious damp patch for they felt soaking wet.

"Hurry up, lift your arms," he said. As much as he wanted to he dare not touch her for there was more to gain with patience. He took the bra from her hands and watched her put both hands up as though in surrender. She had such nice firm breasts he wanted to lean in and kiss them.

He pulled the dress down her body, knowing already from the woman who left it there, it would be too small; just as the bra was. She wiggled her hips into it shaking her breasts around in a delightful gyration. There was plenty of cleavage from them being pushed up in the tight bodice of the dress.

She pulled at the hem finding it wasn't tucked up for there wasn't much of it in the first place. It fitted tight under her breasts and flared out over her body to lightly float around her thighs. Although it was an exquisite designer dress, obviously expensive, it left her feeling cheap.

From under the dress she pulled her panties down meaning to hide them in the pile of clothes. She could slip them in the washer without him knowing they were dirty.

"Come on then, you need to get working to pay off this debt," he firmly told her.

"Uncle, I mean, Sir," she quickly corrected herself.

"What is it?" he asked, clearly impatient, wanting to get on with it.

"I need some panties, sir," she asked sheepishly. It was highly embarrassing asking her uncle for panties and only a few hours ago she wouldn't even contemplate being in his house. She seemed to be in a downward spiral, wondering how far she was to fall in her own self-esteem before being freed.

"At least you remembered this time. Hold on. I've given you these clothes while yours are in the wash and so far I've been the one paying without you contributing a penny. You spoiled dinner and wasted beer. You can earn the panties, girl!" Morris growled at her.

For a moment Jen wanted to cave in and simper in abject misery. She stiffened her resolve to pay him off and escape this dreadful place and this decedent old man. "What if someone comes in while I'm cleaning the place, Sir?" she asked. At last starting to think quickly she prepared to argue for a pair of panties.

The thought of pleading for a pair of panties was adding to the all ready aroused state, heating her up even more. She knew it and could feel that familiar squishy feeling between the legs. Little tingling sensations were dancing up her back seeming to pulse through her body into her nipples.

"You'll just have to be careful," he said and slapped her bare cheeks. The sound of a hard hand on soft cheeks was now familiar but the stinging pain seemed to follow in its own time. It replaced the tingling of her body with a more earthy feeling. It seemed like a punishment for being naughty, for back-chatting her uncle. A deeper feeling of arousal penetrated her body, from her pussy, to gripping her stomach as though it were being twisted.

"Bend over," he said.

"No! I can't," she complained.

"I said bend over," he growled and slapped her bottom again.

"But Uncle, I've no panties, I'm," she started to say but couldn't bring her self to say the word naked.

He sat heavily on the bed pulling her over his knee as he did so. There was no need to pull up the little dress for it flared up over her waist to reveal a firm bare ass. "I thought so. You're aroused. Why?" he asked.

Little whimpering sounds escaped her mouth which flapped ineffectively from the shock of this despicable revelation. Uncle Morris had suspected something and spread her thighs to discover the truth. She had been roused, but surely not by him. It must be her own imagination working on her, leading her on. What could she say?

Morris knew what it was and felt more confident of taking advantage of her. She should have run and complained when he first put her over his knee. This invasion of her privacy was even more intrusive yet she bore it without complaint. It wasn't just shock at the audaciousness. She was being stoked up and didn't know what to do about it.

"Please, Sir," Jen managed to whimper. She felt so humiliated she couldn't move or hardly speak. He had found out this terrible secret that she had been trying to hide from herself. He was forcing her to face the terrible truth she was being turned on by exposing her body to him.

"It's this I'm talking about," he said.

She felt a finger push between her lips. It was all so much wetter down there than she had guessed.

Morris scooped up a finger of sticky fluids and rubbed the smelly finger under her nose and over her lips. "Smell that? It's your excitement," he said stolidly. "You're a naughty little slut! What are you?" he demanded.

"Please, sir," she whimpered with a shaking voice. Jen had thought of herself as a good young woman but was ready to admit she must be less than perfect, worse than that, he had shown her up to be a tramp. She hated that word and couldn't say it.

"Say it!" he repeated.

"I, I'm a naughty little slut, sir," she said, the voice wavering in a pathetic whisper.

"Louder!" his tone of voice was harsh and severe.

"I'm a naughty little slut, sir," she spluttered, desperate to get it over with. She admitted defeat and believed it! If this were revealed to her parents it would be more devastating than the reason she was here in the fist place. The thought of her parents finding out she was a dirty little slut tightened a noose around her neck making it difficult to breath.

"You need to be corrected in your ways, punished more so than before. Isn't that right?" he asked.

"Yes sir," she conceded. Jen wanted to plead with him not to tell anyone. She wanted the thoughts and feeling to go away, unable to cope with any of it. She felt his finger slide into her open pussy knowing there was no resistance to him. Her body was ready for him so she must be a slut; he was right however dreadful the idea was.

Jen had never experienced such a disgusting act. She felt his finger slide in up to his palm which cupped her bottom. It slid in and out working her up into a dreadful state with breathing becoming rapid and ragged. A second finger joined the first pushing open her hole, stretching it from its near virgin state.

With so much experience he easily found her little hard button and worked upon it with every twist and turn of his fingers. He sawed across it eliciting little whimpering noises. Every time he touched it the word 'Yes' swooned from her lips.

Morris was tempted to poke her asshole too but refrained. Having decided on yet another plan he left it for later. He didn't want to spoil the perfection of those beautiful white globes of soft flesh, so didn't strike her this time. He could see her shake with emotion and speeded up the piston like motion of his fingers. He watched the muscles tighten and anticipated a heavy orgasm.

Her legs were open where he had separated her thighs over his knees so he could see everything of her little private place. With every stroke the slit opened up among the pubic hair, making them gleam with wetness. At first her legs flexed and writhed more from the indignity of it than the pleasure.

She stopped shaking and went stiff unable to move. He pushed her off his knee onto the floor at his feet. She squatted on the floor in a bemused state unable to understand what was happening. He had to bring himself together to play the role of persecutor and not go too far as yet.

"Stand up, quickly!" he ordered. "What do you say? For your punishment girl, what do you say for teaching you not to be a slut?" he asked firmly.

"Thank you, sir," she whined. Jen was still in the after glow of an orgasm in a very vulnerable state. She had put up with the punishment but now felt she deserved it.

The snot and tears had come silently as though she was trying to endure it, all the time thinking she deserved to be punished. She had let her uncle play with her! Had an orgasm while spread out over his knees displaying her sex. Why had she behaved like this; he must be right she was a slut.

She remembered emerging from her room for a late breakfast in a t-shirt and panties when her mother would berate her. Had she wantonly shown off her body for anyone to see?

Surely that had just been an innocent act of an adolescent. Had she always been a slut? Is that why she wanted to be with her cousins? Jen's mind was a confusion of thoughts swirling around the guilt of a new found passion.

Morris pulled her up off the floor before she had a chance to recover leading her into the bathroom. He pulled the dress off and plucked her off the floor perching her in a sink. "Sit!" he ordered.

She sat supine letting him wash her face then let out a sigh of consternation when he soaped between her legs. She needed to be rid of the smell of her sex yet not wanting it to be him that cleansed her.

"You don't deserve to wear panties, you dirty them quicker than they can be washed, you dirty little slut," he admonished her. All was being interpreted to his convenience but he gave her no chance to defend herself rather he railroaded her thoughts along the track that suited him.

With every word she pictured herself more deeply as a naughty slut not worthy of consideration, deserving of this ill-treatment. He pushed her back against the cold wall tiles with the taps digging into her back but she didn't complain.

Her eyes widened in surprise when he squirted foam between her legs. She had shaved her father with a stick of soap and brush but she knew what was about to happen. She watched mesmerised as he concentrated on her once private place. She felt the cold steel slicing away all protection. His fingers were gripping her lips pulling them into shape to get at every nook and cranny of her pussy.