Playing with the Wife Ch. 05

He grabbed Bluebell and pulled her close as he sat down. She was pulled over his knee, with the towel unwinding. Being upside down, naked, shocked her. A loud in-breath, then an exhale, broke the pin drop silence.

A split second pause, and a loud slap brought pandemonium. Liz began to apologise, with promises to be a good girl. Bluebell shouted obscenities, and wriggled violently. A couple more quick hard slaps, stopped her squirming on his lap. She fell silent. He had more force under his hand than Marjorie, and it told upon Bluebell.

'Oww! Alright! I promise to be good,' bluebell crossly said.

'Oww! Just stop it will you!' she retorted.

'Oww! That hurts, stop it, please!' she conceded.

'Oww! I'll do whatever you say! Just stop, please!'

'Oww! I won't say bad things about you, honest!' she broke.

'Oww! Plese, sir, I'll be a good girl, honest!' she gave up.

About to say, he could fuck her mother, she bit back the words. The last three slaps to her bottom were cruelly felt. He lifted her off his lap, and stood her close.

'You can't go around interfering in adult business. Got that?' he asked.

'Yes, sir, sorry, sir,' she humbly spoke.

It was appallingly humiliating to be over his knee, in a very un-lady like position, with legs spread. It dawned on her that she was standing in the kitchen, completely naked! In an instant, she pulled her thighs together from realising she was wet. Down there was excited! She was excited, and becoming more so.

This was her worse nightmare. All it needed to be complete, was for fellow students from school to file in, and laugh at her. An image of Frankie came to mind, stirring emotions up even more. Why was she dripping wet? It had nothing to do with the shower. Please don't let this have anything to do with being spanked, she silently begged.

'Go to your room, the both of you,' he heavily ordered.

'Yes, sir, thank you, sir,' Bluebell couldn't help sounding pathetic.

Pulling Liz up off the floor, they hurried out for the kitchen to the bedroom. All the while Liz was debasing herself with abject apologies. Bluebell too was shocked and apologetic. It was shameful the way she reacted to him. It felt as though she had completely surrendered to his violence.

The very thought of being violated heated her up. If Liz wasn't there, she would have crashed onto the bed, to play with herself. It was the same, or even hotter, than the episode with that guy, Frankie.

Liz made some excuse to go to her bothers room, which suited Bluebell. Once alone she played with herself, then grabbed a vibrator to finish the job.

By early evening everyone came together to eat. It was the only thing that could bring them close. Marjorie gave orders, dishing out tasks to everyone. They murmured acceptance. They busied themselves with the tasks, while careful not to get too close to each other. It felt as though they had to co-operate, or go without.

On one side of the table George and Marjorie sat, smiling at each other. Bluebell and Liz grimaced at each other, sharing the humiliation of a spanking. Both were silently bearing it, afraid of the plan being a complete disaster. They wanted to squirm on the seat with embarrassment, from watching the two love-birds. The pain from the spanking prevented any sort of movement.

Elizabeth was there too, silently watching everything. Her husband didn't realise she was now aware of what he was up to. That she couldn't do or say anything, was frustrating. While being Liz the teenager, she was dependent upon the girl's inexperience of life.

The chores had been done, and the kitchen was shining brightly.

'Come on, it's time to make it up,' Marjorie said. 'There will be no going to bed on a bad day. Go to your uncle, Liz. Come here sweetheart,' Marjorie ordered.

Bluebell reluctantly sat on her mother's lap. They had never been a hugging family, but it had always been her mother's policy to make it up before going to bed.

Liz gladly sat on her uncle's lap, and hugged him. George was embarrassed. He was sitting next to his lover, while hugging his wife. She kissed his cheeks, and told him she loved him.

If Marjorie found out what was going on, she would be livid. He would have to hide her glasses. Though it was strange how his wife had disappeared behind the Liz persona. If he hadn't known Liz was his wife, it would take more than a second look to realise who she was.

Soon after everyone had retired for the night, Liz wandered into Leo's bedroom, longing for him to return. She sniffed his scent, or was it a lover's odour? She fell asleep on his bed, cuddling his pillow.

***

Next morning it was as though nothing had happened. Almost. Bluebell was more amenable to George. From not liking the man, and having a downer on him, she was now smiling at him.

After breakfast, Liz pushed herself onto her husband's lap. Liz too had become more accepting of him. He on the other hand was worried, wondering what they were up to.

'Uncle, can I have some pocket money,' she asked.

'Err, yes, of course,' he mumbled.

Reaching into his pocket he realised it was a mistake. His hand slid under her bottom.

'Just slip off my lap a moment will you,' he said.

In a fluster of emotions, he gave her too much. It felt weird giving his wife pocket money, as though she were a just a girl. It was why he dished out too much. Marjorie commented, so he gave the same amount to Bluebell. Not to spite Marjorie, but because he couldn't ask for it back, and wanted to be fair.

'Thanks, George,' Bluebell said, and unexpectedly gave him a hug.

Both of them looked startled. Bluebell darted off with her new friend, to get changed. Liz wasn't too bothered about the money, as she had a credit card, but Bluebell was pleased to have more than expected. Returning to the kitchen they found George and Marjorie comparing notes. A sudden silence ensued until a voice broke it.

'Where do you think you are going, dressed like that?' Marjorie asked, breaking the silence.

Both girls turned around, looking guilty. Elizabeth was somewhat gratified to be pulled up. Liz was dressing her body like a wayward teenager. It was disconcerting to be showing off so much of her body. Dressed like a teenager, and talking like one, helped with the image, but this was going too far. So far no one had seen through the disguise. Though, in the mall, who would be looking closely at her.

'Those shorts are far too small for you. Bluebell, go and get that dress you used to wear, the nice one with the flowers on it,' Marjorie ordered.

George turned toward his wife, to see what the fuss was about. Marjorie was right, the pair of shorts were too short. His wife's cheeks were bulging out the back, and the crotch was splitting her in half. Her lips were bulging in a lewd camel toe.

'Get those shorts off. As soon as Bluebell brings you a decent dress, you can both go to the mall,' Marjorie firmly stated.

George watched his wife peel the shorts down. Even though she was his wife, he had to look away, as though she really were his niece. It was awkward being in front of his lover, while his wife shed her clothes.

'You're not going to spank me are you?' Liz carefully asked.

'No, silly. I believe in a sharp, short, shock. Then all is forgiven and forgotten. Come on, silly, you look as though you need a hug,' Marjorie chided her.

She pulled Liz onto her lap and pushed the woman's head into her cleavage. George gaped at the look of his wife being treated like a youngster. Knowing she was a mature woman, it just didn't look right. Not knowing whether to laugh or complain, he instead kept quiet.

It was surprising how small she looked compared to Marjorie. Elizabeth had always been small, and waif like, but they had become used to it. Wearing high heels, mature clothes, and being a mature woman, gave the impression of being taller. The way she acted now, the opposite image was being projected.

'Knock, knock! Am I interrupting anything?' Betty asked, with her head in the doorway.

'No, come on in. I'm just making some fresh coffee,' the woman of the house said.

'Hello George. Who's the little darling then?' Betty asked.

'This is Liz, she's staying with Bluebell for a couple of days. Say hello Liz,' Marjorie told her.

'Hello, err, Mrs Parkinson,' Liz hesitantly said.

'Don't I know you? I'm sure I've seen you before somewhere,' the woman said.

'She's Elizabeth's niece. I'll tell you about it later. Take her from me while I make a cup,' Marjorie said, and passed her over.

'Oh! You are so much like Elizabeth. You're growing up like your name sake, Liz,' the woman cooed.

'She needs comforting the poor thing,' Marjorie told her, and placed a coffee on the table.

George watched his wife passed from one neighbour to another. Mrs Parkinson, knew his wife, yet she had been fooled into thinking of her as Liz. Balanced on the woman's lap, she did look small. Though how she could be mistaken for a teenager, was beyond him. Maybe it was because he knew who she was, that he wasn't duped.

'You've been crying. What was that about?' Betty asked.

Marjorie gave her a look, and the woman dropped the subject. She hugged the girl to her, and made soothing noises.

'Can I go now?' Benny asked.

George turned in the chair to find a young boy standing behind him. Damn! The boy was staring at his wife's panty clad behind. The plain white panties were decent enough, but they were tight. They had been pulled up to fit under the shorts, and were still revealing most of her bottom.

George had to calm himself, from two angles. He was getting aroused, and angry.

'That reminds me, I came over for that recipe book, the one for cinnamon rolls, you know?' the woman asked.

'Sure, it's in Leonard's room. Honey, show Brian where the room is. Atop the bookshelf is a large recipe book, with pictures of cakes on the cover. Take Brian, and he will reach it for you. Off you go then honey,' Marjorie told her.

George watched them leave the room. He didn't like the way the boy stared at his wife's bottom while following her. It was a cute heart shape. A peachy smooth shape, that attracted anyone with a pulse. That was no excuse for an eighteen-year-old boy to stare, for she was a mature woman, and his wife.

'Shall I get it?' George asked, while rising.

'No, George, sit there, I want you to help with dinner,' Marjorie said, then turned to her friend to gossip. 'Her mother is ill, so she's staying here. She's a bit sensitive at the moment, that's why the tears, and hugs,' Marjorie explained.

'Oh! Poor thing,' Betty sympathetically said.

'Come on George let's get the vegetables prepared,' Marjorie said.

'Can I help?' Betty asked.

Again Betty scanned George, with the obvious question of why he was here.

'George couldn't cope with Liz, so I've brought them both over here. I'm keeping an eye on both of them, for Elizabeth,' she explained.

Betty nodded, knowingly.

'Yes, men tend to get into trouble if left alone,' she meaningfully spoke.

'I don't! I've forgotten how to get into trouble,' he protested.

'Doesn't stop you going out and trying to remember, does it,' Betty said, and all three laughed.

'Tell him to bring the book home, then he can go do what he wants,' Betty said, and departed.

'They've been in there a long time,' George commented.

'I told you she would get over Leonard. I'm kidding! They've probably forgotten what they went for and are playing a computer game. While she's not thinking about things, let them be,' Marjorie advised.

***

'Damn! Let go of me!' Liz tried to say.

Opening her mouth on a brick wall kiss, was a mistake. The boy didn't have much experience, and he just delved in with a wet tongue. It felt as though he were invading her, not just teasing, like Leo kissed. He had one arm around her back, with a hand on her bottom.

Her bare cheeks were being mauled! Liz didn't like it, nor did Elizabeth. At least Elizabeth would have had the experience to stop him, whereas Liz had been overwhelmed by the strong muscular boy. Liz tried to push him off, but didn't have the strength. Elizabeth knew what to do and had the balls to do it. What she didn't have, was control of her body to do it.

Hell! Elizabeth silently cursed. The boy was running his fingers down the crack of her ass. Liz froze, on feeling a finger run under her, to her crotch. She tried to pull away from him, only managing to leave a gap between them. The boy dived in with the hand from her bottom. He pushed fingers down the front of her panties.

Squeezing her thighs together was another mistake. Her legs were either side of his. The fingers were very close to her sex. Another move, and the boy would be fingering her. He leant forward with his tongue still in her mouth. She yelled a useless protest, and leaned back. She was bent backward, with him kissing her hard.

She had been on tiptoe, but now gave way, to stand flat on the floor. He could now reach a little further and inevitably found her sex. The panties were of little use as protection. If only she had been wearing the tight shorts, there would have been no room in them for his hand.

Giving up, she relented to the inevitable. The damn boy was going to finger her. Were all the boy's in the neighbourhood lining up to have sex with her? His inexperience meant it wasn't going to be a pleasant experience. He was bound to be too rough. Not that she wanted anything from him. Of course not. There was no way she would let him go all the way. She would scream for help, as soon as he let her.

'Oww!' Brian yelped.

She felt an arm under her. He didn't have three arms, so who was it?

'I'll let go of your balls, if you let go of Liz,' Bluebell quietly spoke.

'Oww! Alright, be careful,' he quavered a surrender.

His hands were at his side, so she let go and pulled Liz backwards.

'Why are you two in my brother's room?' Bluebell demanded.

'I'm sorry, really sorry, Liz. Thank you Bluebell, you saved me from being a bastard,' Brian said, sounding really down.

'You're just a guy,' Liz pointed out. 'Don't be so hard on yourself. Nothing happened, well, not much,' she grimaced.

Liz went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, and to gargle.

'So, why are you here?' Bluebell asked again.

Brian gave a quick explanation, and reached up for the book.

'You want to make it up to Liz? Alright then. We'll drop the book off, then you come shopping with us. You can carry the dresses and stuff,' Bluebell said.

'I don't have to go into dress shops do I?' he moaned.

'Hell, what do you expect? I guess not. You get to go around with a couple of babes, that's good, not a punishment,' she said.

His face brightened, and he thanked her. He was a big strong guy, but would he be protection against Frankie.

'You had better put this on,' Bluebell told her friend.

'Oh! This dress? Really?' Liz asked.

'Mom won't let you out if you don't,' Bluebell smirked.

'I can straighten the panties, will she let me out then?' she teased Brian.

He looked away trying to seem innocent of their game.

'Those panties cover more than the shorts did, but just to make sure put the dress on,' Bluebell laughed.

Slipping the dress over her head, she shook her hips for it to slide down her body.

'Zip me up, Brian,' Liz said.

Trying not to touch her, which was impossible, he zipped up the dress.

'It's a nice dress, you look cute.' Seeing their looks, he asked, 'Cute is good isn't it?' he asked them both, looking confused.

Bluebell couldn't help laughing. Being cute wasn't what a mature woman would be comfortable with, though Liz didn't seem to mind. It was obvious Elizabeth would prefer the dress, to the cut off shorts, even if it meant looking cute. How many decent married women wanted to show off their ass to teenagers in the mall?

Something her brother said came to mind, and she tried to configure that into how Liz was behaving. He said, Liz the adolescent was acting out how Elizabeth wanted to behave, while re-living her youth. Shedding the responsibilities of adulthood allowed her to be free, and do anything she wanted.

So then why couldn't Bluebell? As a true adolescent she had much to lose, when behaving badly. Her peers opinion counted for too much.

Bluebell took a good look at Liz, and thought she did look cute. How a twenty-eight-year-old woman could look young and adorable. was a mystery. As well as the make-up, a bubble dress, the way she spoke, it was the way she behaved. She walked and stood, like a teenager.

There was something else, there too. The woman was a sexy teenager. It was though she were an innocent, trying to discover her sexuality. It came across in a dangerous sort of way, as though beaming out to boys that she was available. It was a good thing they had Brian with them. She'd known him all through school, and could use him to protect her.

Liz brushed her hair and re-touched the makeup.

'All finished,' Liz declared. 'Come on, I need to shop!'