My Uncle Dan is only ten years older than me. He is my mother's youngest brother. He babysat me many times when I was a young girl. One time when I was about eleven years old I had aggravated him so badly that he threatened to take me "over his knee for an old fashion bare bottom spanking."
I laughed at him saying. "You wouldn't dare!"
But he did dare. He pulled me onto his lap, pulling down my pajama bottoms, slapping my ass once hard. "I don't dare, do I?" He laughed as he pulled my little white panties down to my knees exposing my bare behind." I don't remember how many times he spanked my bottom but I do remember that it hurt me enough that I always listened to him after that. Just the threat of a spanking would make me obey him.
That was my first spanking. My parents never had never punished me that way. They usually scolded me and took away privileges. Uncle Dan never spanked me again while he babysat me but when he looked at me, his little smile on his handsome face, I knew he was thinking about that time I was over his lap with my bare bottom exposed to him.
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"Fucking morons!" Kirsten thought.
At the door to the chemistry room, two of her classmates Bill Taylor and Scott Vance, or Jackass #1 and Jackass #2 as she thought of them, were waiting as usual. The pair of morons partially blocked the class's doorway forcing all the girls entering to pass between them, giving the boys the opportunity to goose them or fondle them in some manner.
As Kirsten tried to enter Scott bumped into her side shoving her towards Bill who, on the pretext of helping her, reached out his hand and squeezed her breast. Anticipating this crude assault, Kirsten elbowed him in the stomach and for good measure kicked Jackass #2 in the ankle.
"Hands off pervert. Try that again and you'll be singing Soprano for the rest of your worthless life."
It started completely by accident.
I was walking from the garage through the kitchen and on my way to the bathroom and as I passed by my older sister Micah who happened to be bent over moving her clothes from the washer and into the dryer, for no reason at all and with no premeditation, I smacked her big ass. However, my hand didn't land on either cheek; it landed almost perfectly in the middle.
Micah emitted an 'Ooof' and as she was straightening up quickly, she bumped the back of her head on the upper rim of the dryer's door. She yelped with pain and it seemed to have stopped her from chasing after me.
I was cautious coming back from the bathroom to resume working on my bike in the garage. But, when I passed her again, she turned around quickly but didn't say anything. She only gave me a hurt look. I didn't give it much thought at the time and chalked my luck to the pain in her head which stopped her from retaliating.
I've always enjoyed family reunions, specifically when my older sister Jenny attended. See, we've been shameless lovers since she turned seventeen and I fifteen and lived in the same house. A couple of years later, she went to college and two years after that it was my turn to leave the nest. But we always 'got together' whenever we could, and the most time we got were during these frequent (thank god) family reunions.
The last time we were together, she surprised me by asking if I'd ever thought about mom in an unmotherly way.
Up until her question, I hadn't thought about it, but as soon as Jenny put that nasty thought in my mind, I started looking at mom in an entirely different manner. The next morning when our family gathered for breakfast, I couldn't help ogling mom.
What made things worse that morning was the fact that mom wore a robe that revealed more than enough of her abundant cleavage to give me a raging hard-on. During breakfest, she often caught me staring in her direction, and her look back seemed to say, 'I know what you want, are you crazy enough to do something about it?'
When I got home late saturday night, Mom was sitting at the kitchen table.
"Geez, Mom I'm 22 years old now, you know you don't have to wait up for me."
"I know," she said. "I went to bed, but I had trouble sleeping. I couldn't relax for some reason."
Judging from the half empty bottle of scotch in front of her, she was probably good and relaxed now. Mom was 41 years old but still quite attractive. She had put on a few pounds but not much. Her ass was a little bit bigger than it used to be, but then again so were her tits. I would often catch my friends checking her out when they thought I wasn't looking.
Being just short of sixteen, born out of wedlock, male and a randy sod was nothing unusual, fancying everything of the opposite sex was supposedly normal, what wasn't so normal was the lust I had for my mother and my aunt. For the past year I'd been having wet dreams about my mother or my aunt, not that they weren't something to have wet dreams about, but it was not the sort of thing a boy was supposed to do.
What made matters even worse was the fact that my mother and her sister were identical twins, even people that had known them for years sometimes had trouble telling them apart so at times I wasn't sure whether it was my mother or my aunt that I was doing such lovely things to in my dreams. Not that I really cared that much, they were both gorgeous women. Not only gorgeous but 'sparky' with it, they both had the same sense of humour that went exceedingly well with their dirty minds and when the pair of them were together they could have made a blue comedian blush.
It was a month before my sixteenth when fate conspired to turn my dreams into reality, my mother had gone to London with her work and she had asked her sister, my aunt Eleanor, to look after me for the few days that she would be away. Sad though I was to be parted from my mother having some-one who looked exactly like her around took the sting away. The start of the first day, a Friday, was nothing out of the ordinary, my mother left while I was at school and my aunt arrived just as I got home, in fact at first I didn't realise it was my aunt and not my mother, but eventually we got that sorted out. Just like any normal Friday we went shopping, well my aunt and I did, usually it was my mother and I, anyway after shopping we had dinner and then spent the rest of the evening chatting and watching TV.
It was almost nine and we'd been sitting watching some rubbishy film for the past ten minutes when Aunt Eleanor muttered something and leant forward to grab the TV and Satellite guide.
"How bloody boring," she said softly "surely there's something better on."
There were eight of us in my family, mum and dad, myself as the oldest child and, incidentally the only girl, one set of triplets and one set of twins, thankfully neither set of which was identical, I was seventeen, my brothers were fifteen and fourteen when our parents decided that we kids were old enough to look after ourselves while they had a second honeymoon. So off they went for two weeks of fun in the sun leaving me, as the eldest, supposedly in charge. My brothers had other ideas, however, and I was seriously outnumbered, after the first day I just gave up trying to keep them under control and concentrated on keeping the house tidy. That in itself was a full time job, five boys equates to a ton and a half of mess, I liked my brothers, but they were a lazy bunch of sods who couldn't seem to do anything without making a mess of some sort and I was getting fed up with running around after them by the fifth day.
"Listen here you mob," I said firmly as I stood in the living room looking at my five brothers lounging around, "I'm fed up clearing up after you, you don't make this much mess when mum and dad are around and I don't see why you should do it now, I'm not your slave you know."
It was only as I finished speaking that I noticed that the boys were passing around a scotch bottle, it was nearly empty yet I was sure it had been full that morning. They were also whispering together which was always a bad sign as it meant they were up to some mischief or other. Gary, Mike, Frank, John and Len all looked up at me with silly grins on their faces and I knew that they were drunk, I snorted in disgust and was about to turn away from them when Mike spoke.
"That's not a bad idea you know Rita," he said, his words slurring a little, "just what we boys need."
"What is?" I asked in total puzzlement.