My Sons Dared Me (Completed 2023) Seven Chapters

Stories about girls getting pantsed, stripped and humiliated by anyone or anything.
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EddieDavidson
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My Sons Dared Me (Completed 2023) Seven Chapters

Post by EddieDavidson »

Hi all,

I was provided this forum link by a friend. I really enjoy what I have read so far. I want to give back. This is my first attempt, so apologies in advance if I don't do it quite right. I ask for your patience and your guidance. As an example, the admin note says "Add extreme codes" but doesn't have a list of what is extreme.

What is extreme to me, may be tame to you and vise verse, so I'll just put some tags about this story in the introduction. These are things are mentioned, may not be described in detail. Code philosophy is probably when in doubt - add the code.

Synopsis: Joy Crump lives in Surrey and loves to do dares that her sons give her. She's the local strumpet and most people in her small village have seen her flashing. Her nephew comes to stay for Summer Holiday and comes away with more than he bargained for.
Sex Contents: Some Sex
Genre: ENF/Coming of Age
Codes: Ma/Fa, Teenagers, Consensual, Incest, Mother, Brother, Sister, Nephew, Humiliation, Light Bond, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Flatulence, Sex Toys, Water Sports

37,247 Words

I created some pictures to be included inline in the chapters. I'll see if I can determine how to attach. It may take me about an hour to get the formatting complete, so if you are reading this and not all of the chapters are there I've either had a heart attack or I am still working on it - be patient. There are seven chapters.

About me:
I have exclusively posted my stories for years on another site. I don't know the rules for cross-posting URLS and I don't want to be rude and advertise the link here without knowing. This story is complete and I felt it was a quintessential "ENF" story. It is also short (for me) at seven chapters. I am not from Brittain, and I've never been.

I wanted to write an 'authentic' story of UK erotica and I did extensive research and asked friends to read this story. What I have found is that even if one person from England think it's authentic it won't be.

A bit of hyperbole, but I'd often have to translate "Oi, Mate, If she were in Sussex, she'd say Dinner, but if she were in the North she'd say Supper, but not on Sunday, now if we're talking about European Pigeon, based on wind speed and velocity, you may not have any supper at all, but you will have tea." into my American understanding and then back into dialogue. Americans are far less complicated when it comes to eating and do way more of it.

At one point, someone told me how UK people see roads. They may not say "Down on Lagham Road" they may say "Down on Lagham". I had another tell me the opposite.

I was also told that the storyteller at times comes across like Hugh Grant's portrayal of British Fops as seen by Americans. "I daresay," or "One doesn't do such things" type of stuff, and real Britishers don't talk that way. I am not changing him though - I feel like Timothy started as a "proper" little straightlaced teenage boy, who may have grown up watching those Hugh Grant movies, but by the end he's truly broadened himself and come of age.

There is an Easter Egg in the story at the end about the parent's vacation to allude to more to come, but I won't say more than that.

I say all of this to say - I did my best to make it seem authentic and believable. I wanted to write about a slutty local slapper, the kind that is quick with a laugh, and will flash her ass for a laugh. One inspiration was Michelle Jolly an onlyfans/TikTok influencer who puts on skits like this.

If the attachments worked, I have no idea - please do let me know if you saw the chapter pictures. The first three chapters have them. I think chapter 6 does as well, and I added a title to this post.

Image
Last edited by EddieDavidson on Sat Jun 24, 2023 12:58 am, edited 4 times in total.
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CHAPTER ONE

Post by EddieDavidson »

“Timothy? Timothy Alexander? Is that you! My how you’ve grown since I’ve last seen you! It’s me, your Auntie!”

My Aunt waved her arms and was quite happy to see me. There were only a few people at the train station, and she didn’t have to shout. The people boarding the train didn’t seem to mind her happy outburst.

I was by myself for the first time. At 15, I was quite ready to travel on the train alone. My parents had arranged for me to stay with my aunt on Summer Holiday from school. I had just finished year 10 of my school and I was looking forward to graduating.
I had boarded the train from Fulham Broadway Station in London to South Godstone. It was only an hour and twenty minutes, but it was like I was stepping into another world when I stepped off the station. Fulham is a middle-class suburb in London – nothing particularly notable about it.

However, South Godstone seemed like a sleepy village where time moved much slower, and people dressed in outdated fashions.

My Aunt Joanne was wearing a cheap green polyester dress that I could best describe as a house frock. It fit her tightly in all of the wrong places. The sheerness of the satin-finish of the flimsy material made it obvious that she was wearing a rather thick bra underneath. That manner of dress may have been popular in the 1980s or 1970s. It had probably been something my aunt wore to cocktail parties back then and that was why she still had it. Now only East Ender Chavs might wear one. It was suitable for wearing about the house, but I thought she might be embarrassed to wear it in public.
It seemed out of place for mid-morning in South Godstone, mostly because I would never expect my own mum to wear such a thing in public and the two women bore a close resemblance. Aunt Joanne had reddish brown hair, and was a bit more buxom, with a larger bottom but there was no mistaking how closely she looked like my mother.

I don’t want to give the impression that I was singling my aunt out or being judgmental. There was an older gentleman dressed in an outdated tweed suit with a broad tie that looked like something one would find in a hand-me down store. He crisply boarded the train when we arrived without so much as a look in my aunt’s direction.

I did think her attire odd, mostly because of the short hem of her skirt and the fact she was wearing black stockings. Women these days didn’t generally wear hose opting for the natural look.
My Aunt Joanne and my mum grew up in Northeast England and you can sometimes hear the accent when they speak. I won’t attempt to recreate the accent because I might over-exaggerate it to comical proportions and that’s not quite fair to my Auntie. I'm guilty of making northern people generally lower class than Southern (with the exception of Cockneys - those from the rougher end of London - who are again portrayed as somewhat 'low rent').

However, suffice to say that my accent is more in line with what you might expect from Hugh Grant and my aunt’s side of the family is a bit more rural. I don’t look anything like Hugh Grant, nor do I have his charm or wit. A friend described me once as a young Harry Potter without the good looks. I suppose that is due to my large spectacles and geeky nature. I’ve made an attempt to comb my straight brown hair a bit differently than Harry does now.

“Let me have a look at you,” my aunt grasped my arms and held them down as she examined me up and down with pride. Her eyes were wide with excitement. My parents tend to be more reserved, and I am as well. I was instantly blushing when she brushed my bangs out of my face with her fingers and told me I had such lovely eyes. “Too bad the glasses muck it up! My Sophie wears glasses! I hope you’ll get on with your cousins!”

I have three cousins and I’ve only met them on a few occasions. Sophie is the oldest and the last I saw her she was a shy beanpole with glasses. Charlie with his bright red hair is a bit of a character and his little brother Edward was his constant shadow.

I have no siblings and I wasn’t particularly excited about my trip, but I wanted to make the most of it. “Shall we be off?” I asked.

“Let’s catch up! How’s your mum getting on?” she asked. I was uncomfortable having this conversation at a train station. It was a small station with less than a half dozen people milling around either waiting to board or for another arrival. My Aunt’s rather boisterous voice seemed to draw attention and I would rather have these conversations back at her flat. I politely told her we were well and picked up my bags to politely signal we should be going.

“Oh no! I can’t have you carry your bags all the way back home. Charlie would have me hide for that,” she said. I thought it odd that her son might be the one who was offended by my aunt’s manners, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. She bent over at the waist and picked up both suitcases like a weightlifter trying to deadlift some weights.

The bags were heavy, and I had to use rollers to move them. She insisted on lifting them up and carrying them. “These bags must weigh 14 stones a piece!” she didn’t sound angry. My Aunt seemed impressed or possibly just amused that I would have this many clothes and want to bring them all with me.

“Have you packed to stay for the summer, or to move in?” she chuckled.

“I am sorry, Aunt Joanne,” I apologized. “I didn’t know what I might need, and I tried to pack for every contingency.”

“Contingency? Now that’s a funny word! Please call me Joy! Everybody does!” she insisted that I address her by her informal nickname. I’d heard my mom address Joy, but my father always called her Joanne.

“Aunt Joy,” the name sounded strangely inappropriate on my tongue. “My luggage has rollers. You don’t have to carry it. It will slide.”

“Nonsense,” Joy dismissed my suggestion and said that my luggage would get dusty if she dragged it down the street. I couldn’t argue that fact. I was just happy that she was willing to continue our conversation walking down the Station Road and not remain at the train station.

When she turned around, I immediately saw why my aunt had drawn so much attention. It wasn’t so much her obnoxiously loud voice or her wildly waving arms, though these mannerisms certainly contributed to the strange looks she was receiving.

She hadn’t noticed that the back of her short dress had accidentally been pulled up in the back. Most of her bottom was visible, and I could see the red garters she wore that held up her black stockings. She thankfully had on black knickers, but they disappeared inside of her sizable butt crack like a thong.

I was alarmed and embarrassed for her when I noticed. I knew she would be mortified, and I thought of the most tactful way I could tell her that her bottom was revealed in the obscenest way. There might be 6,000 people total in all of Godstone and quite a bit less in her part of the village. There was a high probability that most of the people that saw her knew her and that made it seem even more scandalous to me.

No one thought to warn her, but I thought that was simply because the British are far more polite and less direct than Americans. I felt obligated as family to tactfully warn her that that she was exposed.

“Um, Aunt Joy?” I asked as I followed her down the Station Road toward Lagham. I tried not to look directly at her bottom. She was my aunt after all. However, I’d not had many (any) opportunities to see a bare woman’s bottom in my life outside of watching porn on my cell phone and I couldn’t help but look. I felt guilty that I took a long glance, as I knew she would be instantly humiliated once I told her.

“You can call me Joy if you prefer, Timothy. We’re going to be living together for a couple months so we might as well get acquainted.”

That was an understatement. I was acquainted now with the full image of my aunt’s very round bottom.

“Aunt Joy, I have something to tell you, please don’t be alarmed,” I said. She stopped walking and looked over her shoulder. “It’s me dress, isn’t it?”

“Yes, uh, the wind must have caught it,” I averted my eyes.

“The wind, eh? More like Charlie’s doing than Mother nature. C’mon then, we’ve got a short walk and these bags are heavy.”

She turned and began to walk without dropping her skirt back down.

“You don’t understand Aunt Joy, it’s indecent,” I said.

“Aye, that’s what I’ve been saying,” My Aunt seemed amused instead of horrified when she agreed with me. “One of these days the constable will lock me up for indecent exposure. I suppose you’ll find out soon enough but thank you for being kind enough to let me know.”

I was perplexed and a bit terrified. Had I walked into some episode of the Twilight Zone? My aunt continued walking and she seemed to accentuate her hips more as she did. The emphasized movement may have had more to do with needing to shift her weight than to prevent dropping my bags.I r

“Does Emma walk around your flat naked sometimes?” My Aunt’s inquiry only confused me more. I told her that my mother would never do that.

“Our flat is a small walk-up, and I am on the government dole because my ex-husband’s support doesn’t go far enough, so we don’t have a lot of privacy. I’ve never been a shy one, not really. I walk about in my brassiere and knickers at home quite a bit. I doubt I have any bits a strapping lad like yourself hasn’t already seen, and I am sure you’ve seen more flesh on Brighton Beach than you are seeing right now.”

“We aren’t at the beach, Aunt Joy,” I respectfully reminded her that we were in a rural village – her home village – and that anyone might see us, even her neighbors. I presumed she didn’t want to be seen as the town strumpet. I could only imagine that It be difficult to live down such a reputation in a place with so few people once rumors began to circulate. My aunt and I had already reached a small restaurant and pub called the South Godstone Inn which had tables outside occupied with many people eating dinner!

I felt like I was watching a train slowly moving to crash into another train as my aunt blissfully ignored my warnings. She didn’t just ignore them. She laughed them off as if it wasn’t any big deal. I thought perhaps she thought no one could notice and my politely warning her would draw more attention than it would if she shifted her dress back down.

There was no mistaking my Aunt Joanne’s skirts were pulled up in the back. I was quite surprised that my aunt had ignored every warning.
I might have pulled the skirt down myself to save herself some embarrassment, if I didn’t feel it was inappropriate to reach for her bottom.

“I can’t remember when it started,” she explained “When Charlie was a boy, he used to dare me to do silly things. You probably dare Emma to do them too? I would something silly to amuse him like shake my boobs or stick my finger in his mouth and let him bite it and he would laugh and laugh.”

I would have never dared ask my mother to do anything like that. I couldn’t even imagine the context in which that conversation would happen. Aunt Joy made it sound so casual and mundane, that it was fairly typical behavior for a family.

“When Charlie was old enough to be interested in girls, he started to dare me to do randy things,” She smiled. I had to walk quickly to keep up. I found myself slowing down to trail her if only to distance myself before we passed the Inn. I had to walk faster to keep up and be able to hear her or I knew she’d only raise her voice and the people eating dinner would be able to hear her story. I wasn’t sure where this was going.

“The dares evolved after my husband and I separated to the point where I don’t go a day without at least one or two,” she smiled brightly like she enjoyed them. “Charlie dared me to carry your luggage bag to the flat and not let it touch the ground. I had no idea quite how high he lifted my skirt, but I knew my bum would be visible. I suppose you can see everything, can you, Timothy?”

Her tone of voice was surprising. I didn’t expect her to sound so excited to find out just how exposed she was.

“Yes, I can see just everything,” I informed her quite seriously.

“Not my nipper?” she asked. That was coarse language for an asshole, and I knew what it meant. I couldn’t see inside the ravine of my aunt’s ass cheeks, and I blushed that she even considered it a possibility. When I didn’t respond right away, she assumed I didn’t understand the term. “My ring hole -it’s not visible, is it?”

At least my extroverted aunt refreshingly seemed concerned that the most intimate part of her fundament remained hidden to protect her dignity. I told her that I knew what a Nipper was and that it was covered.

Charlie said I WAS a Nipper. His mother laughed it off and told me not to take anything Charlie said all that seriously. “He’s just having a laugh, Timothy. That’s how he shows you he likes you.”

“Yeah, you are a proper bastard, and you are family. It’s just how we talk around here. Don’t get your nickers all wadded up,” Charlie smirked. I wasn’t a bastard at all. I wasn’t really sure if Charlie meant what he said or he was pretending to approve of me for his mother’s sake.

“I am sure you’ve seen many a cute Nipper, much younger and tighter than mine, I didn’t mean to offend Timothy,” she replied politely. “You are a good lad,” she walked proudly past the waitress and customers of the Inn having dinner.

I saw a woman sitting with her husband giggle and they both followed her with their eyes as she walked to the corner and turned right down Lagham. “Not far now,” she informed me that we just had to walk to the end of Lagham. It wasn’t a short distance and there were rows of brick home flats we would have to pass.

My aunt returned to asking me mundane questions about my father and my schooling as if she wasn’t nearly bare-assed and exposed in her neighborhood. There only a few people outside on this warm summer day in Surrey. Boys my age riding bikes and laughing, older men mowing their lawns with push mowers, ladies unloading their shopping. We had passed at least 17 people but not one of them screamed or acted more than a little amused by my aunt’s antics.

“Aren’t you concerned with what your neighbors might say about you?”

“Rumors and gossip?” she smiled dismissively. “Of course, I am, but by now most people in South Godstone think I am batty. I suppose if I suddenly stopped doing dares, they might have even more speculation on the reasons for even that. Everyone has an opinion. Horses of another colour, and all of that.”

“Do they know your son gives you dares?”

“I suppose some do. His friends, certainly. Not many ask,” Joy acted like it was truly not that unusual. I did see a few smirks and sidelong glasses. I believed the spectacle of a woman carrying two heavy suitcases in a short skirt while I walked behind holding nothing might have been enough to draw unwanted attention even without her skirt lifted up in the back.

I was truly puzzled and asked if anyone gets offended. I wasn’t sure the extent of her dares but walking down the street with one’s skirt pulled up in Fulham would be scandalous.

“Oh, aye,” she said. “If I get a smile or a laugh though from one, then it makes up for a tongue lashing from someone uptight and repressed,” my aunt didn’t sound like she cared too much what her neighbors might think of her. However, I suspected that she didn’t want to admit that it might bother her and was trying to put on a brave face.

That was the only scenario that made sense to me.

“I hope I haven’t offended you?” she asked.

I didn’t feel offended. I was shocked, dismayed, perplexed, and a number of other words. Offended was too harsh for what I felt. She was my aunt and I had been raised to respect my elders. I told her that I wasn’t offended at all.

“Summer would be right unpleasant if you were walking around miffed anytime I get starkers.”

I was flummoxed – did she truly intend to get NAKED in front of me as well? I assumed she meant stockings, brassiere and knickers as she had mentioned she spent a lot of time that way at home. That was already quite a departure from my own upbringing.

I seldom saw my parents in short pants. I’d only ever seen my mother in rather conservative one piece swimming suits on the rare times we went to the community pool or the beach.

My Aunt’s flat is a very common design in Britain. Old style red brick row town homes often side by side forming a sort of duplex or apartment. Each one had a small garden in the back with a bit of fencing and they were two stories with the bedrooms above the living space and kitchen below.

Charlie was the first to greet us at the door. He was gregarious and quite a bit more brash than I remembered from last time I met him a few years earlier. “How was the walk mum!” he asked sweetly with a trace of sarcasm in his voice.

“I didn’t get arrested if that is what you are asking about,” she chuckled and set down my luggage. She could have smoothed her skirt out, but she didn’t.

“Timothy Alexander, as I live and breathe. How are you doing, me old mucker?” Charlie’s accent was a mixed porridge of British slang that he most likely picked up from TV shows like Eastenders and Reality TV shows about the Geordie Shore, but I detected everything from Welsh to the more local South London accent in his timbre. Charlie was my age but quite a bit stouter. He punched me hard on the arm as he greeted me. It was meant to be a friendly gesture even if it smarted.

His little brother Edward was not far behind. He had dark hair like me and seemed a quiet type. He greeted me politely with a wave. I thought he was the most couth of the bunch.

“Where is your sister? I want her to meet her cousin!” Joy asked about my cousin Sophie. My Aunt spoke down to Charlie in the manner of a parent. I wondered at first if Charlie was the one giving dares if their roles were somehow reversed, and he called the shots at the house. I was pleased to see that she spoke to him in a friendly but parental manner.

“At the zoo,” Charlie shrugged and added wryly “They needed a new Elephant and I’ve shipped her off!”

“Oh Charlie, your cousin doesn’t get our sense of humor! Go get Sophie and tell her to come down here.”

“Fine,” Charlie dashed upstairs.

“Is the dare complete?” she asked expectantly as her son took the stairs. “I think Timothy might be a bit tired of seeing my knickers.”

“My mate Tim seems just chuffed to be here, Mum,” Charlie stopped regarded me as if he were trying to size up my reaction to what had just happened. “Why don’t you take off your kit and get comfortable.”

My Aunt looked at me apologetically. “I warned you it is a bit bonkers here at times and we’ve not much space. I hope you don’t think I am always gallivanting about the British countryside with my arse on display to everyone,” she explained.

I tried to be modestly polite and not appear offended or judgmental. What could I say to her comment though?

She was still standing next to her doorway between my suitcases when she reached down to the hem of her skirt and pulled it all the way over head. She was wearing a large black brassiere that held her massive bosoms up like two cannon balls. “This is tight as a corset!” she complained as she tugged at some of the strappings that held it in place.

Her bra was one of those old brassieres with lots of supports, straps and hooks. It looked like it was designed for maternity wear to provide support to a pregnant woman. She had on a very small pair of knickers that wasn’t quite a thong – but it did very little to hide her body. I could see the outline of her pussy lips and a huge patch of pubic hair on either side of the black satin panties.

She wore a red garter belt that made her entire ensemble seem cheap because the colors clashed with the black. I knew older women wore things like this but now the look only conjured up images of old-school strippers and pin-up models like Betty Page.

She had twin garters on each leg – one in front and back that snapped to her black panty hose. The hose wasn’t fine like modern panty hose, but it wasn’t fishnet either. The netting gave her a cheap tawdry look. I noticed that she had been wearing fine red high heels during the entire walk. The heel had to be at least four inches high and incredibly difficult to walk in even if one wasn’t carrying heavy bags.

Her face was made up, but not overly so. She wore dark blue eyeshadow, lipstick and rouge. All in all, she seemed cheap and tawdry like she was waiting to offer me a special massage on the east side of London and not relaxed at all as she said she would be when she removed her frock.

I’ve walked through the streets of London with my mates only a few times. Once we ended up in Whitechapel. It’s best known as the notorious area where Jack the Ripper hunted prostitutes ages ago. It’s still a bit dodgy but it’s mostly tourists. We thought we’d find a strip club, but we were turned away as we were a bit too young.

We did manage to see a few women who wore outfits like this at night, usually with coats. I believe that was why I had a hard time believing my aunt could be comfortable this way.

Charlie brought his sister Sophie downstairs. She had filled out quite a bit since the last time I had seen her and grown at least a head taller than me. Sophie is rather mousy and has two prominent front teeth and glasses. She kept her brown hair in a short ponytail just like I had seen her last time but now she was in grade 11 and no girls I knew that age wore their hair that way. She was wearing a modest house gown.

it was in no way revealing and it didn’t accentuate the fact she had sprouted two grapefruit sized boobs since I had seen her a few years earlier. She seemed aloof and shy, and only seemed interested in meeting me from the stairs.

“Hello Sophie,” I waved politely.

She waved back but said nothing. She didn’t seem alarmed or in any way concerned that her mother was in her knickers and bra so I concluded that must be the norm around the house.

“Sophie’s still a bit shy,” my aunt apologized for the lack of a warm welcome. She had her frock folded over her arm. “We don’t have much room. I was thinking you could bunk with Sophie as she has an extra bed.”

Sophie rolled her eyes and clicked her teeth as if she was slightly annoyed but had expected that decision. She didn’t protest it. I found it quite odd that my aunt would suggest I sleep in her daughter’s room but given her earlier statement about privacy – I wasn’t entirely surprised.

“Nah, Tim is a guest, he should get the royal chamber! Your room!” Charlie brightened as he walked down from the stairs and stood near me. The living room had a couch and coffee table next to a TV, but everyone was standing in the small foyer area with the exception of Sophie who remained on the nearby stairs.

“Which one?” Joy giggled with a snort. I wasn’t sure how she would have two rooms -there were only three bedrooms at most upstairs in the smallish flat.

“The Master, you can sleep in the downstairs,” he said.

“Timothy’s been here less than an hour, Charlie! He’s probably tired or gobsmacked by the dare you made me do this morning to pick him up. Why not let him take a gander around Godstone before you run him off screaming thinking we are all barmy.”

“Did you invite my cousin here without thinking about where he’d bunk?” Charlie asked in a disrespectful tone. I didn’t appreciate him questioning his mother’s decision in that tone even if they were rather informal.

“You know me, fail to plan, plan to fail,” Joy had a devil care may disposition as she shrugged it off. “My sister asked me to let him visit while she went off to Spain on Holiday. I assumed we’d find some place for him to bunk,” she shrugged it off and turned to me to ask if I minded being in Sophie’s room.

“Don’t do it, Timothy. It’s a trap! My sister’s farts smell like death. You’ll be gassed out,” Charlie clutched his throat and pretended to choke. Edward giggled and even Joy had a bit of a laugh. Sophie stood there passively tolerant of her brother’s jabs.

“That’s not very nice,” I stood up for Sophie.

“Lighten up,” Charlie stopped laughing and everyone including Sophie regarded me as if I had over reacted. I love my Moppet of a sister,” he offered sweetly before adding a sarcastic “It’s just her farts smell like demon cheese that rose out of the pits of Mordor so foul that even Sauron didn’t want them.”

“Oh, your farts are so much sweeter,” Sophie finally spoke. Charlie chased her upstairs and threatened to fart in her face as she ran away.

“Here let me carry your bags upstairs, don’t pay attention to their squabbles. They love each other dearly,” My Aunt bent over and hefted my bags with a grunt.

“I really could carry at least one,” I offered politely.

“I won’t hear of it, you are a guest, now follow me,” she said as she took the stairs. I really can’t describe to you the exact way these stairs work except to say that as my aunt rose up the stairs, her bottom was positioned squarely inches from my nose. I could see the fine hairs appearing out of the crack of her ass held within the black knickers that were completely absorbed by her ass crack.

I felt myself blush as I tried politely to wait so that my aunt’s buttocks weren’t so close, but she asked me to hold her up, so she didn’t fall back. It felt strange placing my hands on her lower back to act as a support so that she wouldn’t fall back. It took all of my might and I almost felt as though she were intentionally losing her balance.

“Let’s take the luggage one at a time,” I suggested. I was aware that Edward had a great view of this spectacle from where he stood. I wondered if he thought I was a pervert for keeping my nose positioned inches from his mother’s bum.

When I got upstairs, I saw there were three doors in a very small hallway that one could barely stand in because it was about the width of a single door. A small desk with a vase sat underneath a painting pushed up against one wall. The other three sides of the hallway were taken up completely by wooden doors.

The door on the left that faced the street was the master bedroom. The door was wide open, and it was filled with eclectic trappings such as books and bits and bobs. It was clearly my aunt’s room, and it was dominated by a great window over a bed that was way too large for such a small room.

The door in front of me was closed. I assumed it belonged to Charlie and Edward.

By process of elimination, the door immediately across from the master bedroom belonged to Sophie. There were posters on the door of British Pop stars like McFly, Lily Allan and Pixie Lott. The room was small. I had a walk-in closet at home that was about the same size.

There were in fact two beds – little more than cots really. There was a dresser, nightstand and not much else. The floor was covered in magazines, and it seemed a bit chaotic and disorganized. The light inside the room had been replaced with decorative blue and strawberry pink bulbs that gave the room a very girl feels.

Inside, Charlie was wrestling his sister in a headlock and trying to fart in her face. “Open up and let me give you a taste! C’mon, chambers loaded! It’s now or never! You’ll love it! my farts taste like raspberry pastry!”

Sophie wrestled futilely to free herself. I was surprised that Joy permitted that kind of rough housing between them even if it was in fun. The room was too small for rough and tumble horseplay, and it seemed at any moment Charlie might knock over and break a vase or lamp.
“Put a sock in it you two, and let Timothy settle in before you start bringing down the roof with your rolling about,” Joy seemed amused by their playful antics even though she chided them for their brash behavior.

It sent a very confusing message as far as I was concerned. If she wanted them to stop, why didn’t she demand it? She wasn’t laughing hard but smiling and seeming amused hardly seemed to deter the two from continuing to ignore her instructions. Sophie and Charlie continued to wrestle with Charlie insisted on farting in his older sister’s face.

Thankfully, my aunt did take a more forceful approach by at least clearing her throat and making it clear she was getting annoyed.

“Right,” Charlie released his sister and tossed her down to the bed. He wasn’t violent or rough with her, but he made it clear that he was letting her go and hadn’t been bested in their little match. “I’ve summoned up a wet one and it would be a waste to let it go,” he complained. “If you want me to spare Sophie, I dare you to bend over and take her place!”

“Charlie!” Joy was quite offended and even though she was smiling I knew that she wouldn’t entertain THAT kind of a dare.

“Fine,” she breathed out and bent forward to offer her face. “The things I do to keep the peace in this family,” she joked a bit of gallows humor. I was not entirely shocked that she was offering her face as a target because she had already demonstrated a propensity for low-brow humor. I likened it to pantomiming placing your head on an imaginary chopping block for the headsman ax and no one expects anyone to actually pull out a real one and take a swing.

Charlie grinned sadistically, pulled his pants down to his knee and bared his hairy anus – nipper and all. He stood crouching with his butt stuck out inches from his face and let out a toot – right into his mother’s smiling face.

Gods! I had never seen anything like this. This was beside the pale offensive. This was the kind of humor that even Ricky Gervais might find somewhat offensive (but only just!). I hoped that in the spirit of a joke and a modicum of decorum Charlie had only pretended to pass gas and blown a raspberry with his mouth.

Once I smelled it, I knew difference.

“Is that all you got? Hardly worth the bend over,” Joy goaded him to do better and continued to smile and present her face.

“You’ve bent over for less,” Charlie offered a joke implying his mother was a slag, and farted again, this time much harder.

“You nearly shit yourself that time, go get some bog paper,” Sophie instructed her brother sternly.

“Ah, I can snap off another if you are hungry?” he asked Sophie as he pulled up his underwear and left. Sophie stuck her tongue out at him as he left and sat upon her bed. I could see her long bare legs folded under her, but she wasn’t sitting in a vulgar or obscene manner – it was quite innocent.

“That’s what I meant about dares,” Joy didn’t seem humiliated at all when she cited what just happened as an example of one. “We don’t take ourselves that seriously here. I hope you won’t think the worst of us?”

“No, not at all,” I said politely. What could I say? That I thought that they needed their heads examined. I was in her home, and this was her domain not mine. I would be here for the summer since my parents were on holiday in Spain.

I would have to make the best of it.
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Chapter 2

Post by EddieDavidson »

My aunt said she would make dinner and let me unpack while I caught up with my cousin. Joy didn’t tell me where to stow my things and I assumed Sophie already clothes in the nightstand and dresser.

I am going to provide a point of clarification for the reader. In England and America, you call supper and dinner different things. I was even confused when my aunt said we were having dinner in the afternoon. In this story, Breakfast is in the morning, Then dinner (lunch), then tea (around 3) and finally supper. I know that may be confusing but

Sophie stared at me for a long while without saying anything – as if waiting for me to say or something. I opened my luggage and began to sort it. I had no idea what to do with it. I assumed I would store it under the cot.

“Just to let you know, I do not DO dares, nor do I give them,” Sophie finally spoke.
“That’s good to know, neither do I,” I replied with a reserved but polite smile. She didn’t seem amused by my response.
Sophie spoke in a quiet demeanor with a very flat expression most of the time. Her manner seemed to be constant expressions of boredom and annoyance. I assumed with a brother like Charlie that might not be entirely unavoidable. She made it clear that the others did dares, and she wasn’t a participant.

My cousin seemed to be a polar opposite to her mother. She was tall and lanky where her mother was stout and curvy. Sophie was milk-white pale and bookish and mousy, while Joy was almost always amused and jovial. Sophie was quiet and her mother was loud.

“May I ask why you have two beds in here?” I asked more to fill the void of silence. I was quite used to silence being an only child, but it was a heavy and awkward silence being in this girl’s room. I felt as though I had no business being in here and she would have been well within her rights to tell her mom she wasn’t going to share it with me.

“Hospital beds,” Sophie explained that they were World War II surplus and her father bought them years ago when they first moved in with the intent that they might have another daughter. Sophie looked touchy about her father’s split with her mother. I knew very little about it as my mother wasn’t one to gossip about such affairs between adults. I knew simply that my aunt was no longer with her husband.

Sophie looked at me intently with a macabre expression and bragged “Soldiers probably died on these beds!”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that either. It was a sobering if not disturbing realization. I wondered if her intent was to make me uncomfortable in the exact opposite way as her mother had. The tone of her voice suggested she thought I might like to hear that fact. I nodded politely and acknowledged what she said.

“You don’t seem very chuffed to have a boy sharing your room with you,” I observed politely. I am normally not that forward with girls, but it seemed to be the elephant in the room. A boy sharing a room with a girl?

“Are you going to be wanking in here all the time?” she asked in a dead pan manner which for her I assumed was how she joked.

I laughed at first at the absurdity of the question. I would have expected that question from her randy mother, but Sophie seemed so reserved that it struck me as funny she would even ask.

There was a long pause – really long. I was hoping for some excuse to leave because she seemed to be staring at me – as if waiting for a shoe to drop and me to pull my cock and have a wank right in front of her. I jerked off obviously – like any boy my age. I’d never even consider doing it outside of the bathroom with the door closed and locked.

“Are you going to stare at me the entire time you are here?” she asked again in her morose and deadpan manner. She had been staring at me. I glanced at her but only to see if she had averted her gaze.

“I was not planning to,” I responded dryly.

“You haven’t changed much since we toured Fulham Palace,” she said.

I remembered that day quite fondly. It was Autumn and we were visiting the former residence of the residence of the Bishop of London. It’s a museum of sorts and I’ve been many times. I love historical old buildings like that. I said it was great fun.

“It was quite dull,” she rolled her eyes. “I was hoping to go to a water park,” she lamented. It had been two years. I wondered if she still had regret about it. The way she spoke it sounded like she blamed me for choosing where we visited. I assured her it wasn’t my choice. She didn’t address it.

“Sophie, Timothy, Dinner is prepared,” Joy called from the kitchen. The flat is small, and her loud voice carries through the walls quite easily. Thank God! I thought to myself. I had a light snack before I left home, but I was hopeful for any excuse to leave the room now. I didn’t want to seem impolite by just getting up and walking out after I packed away my stuff under my cot.

“I hope you like Bubble and squeak,” Joy said apologetically as I came down the stairs. That didn’t fill me with confidence.

Bubble and Squeak is a quirky name for a dish that is mostly fried leftover vegetables. I’ve had it before, but it isn’t my favorite thing. I am not sure it is anyone’s favorite dish. English food is a bit of an acquired taste.

“You are Bubble and Sophie is squeak,” Edward spoke and pointed to his mother as Bubble and his sister as Squeak. Joy laughed heartily as she served up the food. She was still in bra, garters, knickers, heels and hose. Sophie rolled her eyes as she sat down. Charlie was already seated at the table.

There were four chairs around the table. Edward took the third chair.

That left just one, and I felt obliged to mention that there were not enough chairs.

“He can count! Look at that! What else can you do?” Charlie teased me. I gritted my teeth politely.

“I just meant there aren’t enough chairs for all of us to sit,” I remained reserved and tried not to show offense. Charlie was used to joking around and I did not want to seem easily offended. I didn’t see Charlie as a Bully – not really. He seemed a bit of a braggart and quite rude though and my experience with bullies told me that letting them rile you only encouraged them.

When no one responded to me, I committed a faux pas. One that was unintentionally insensitive. “What did you do for supper when your father lived here?”

I merely intended to find out if they had an alternative place for me to eat – such as a TV tray.

“Dad never lived here,” Charlie’s wicked grin washed off of his face, and he looked angry that I had reminded him his father and mother separated. Even Sophie’s normally cheerful demeanor became momentarily somber and comforted her son. She explained that they had a larger house in Godstone proper before the split.

I apologized profusely for bringing up a sour topic and offered to sit on the couch.

“Joy wouldn’t have it, you are a guest!” Charlie announced with a wicked look on his face. It was the first time I heard him address his mother by her first name. It was the equivalent to me as addressing the headmaster of my school as “Reggie” – simply not done.

Joy looked apprehensive but nodded as if that would be fine. “I don’t’ mind standing, please have a seat, Timothy!”

“Joy, I dare you to go outside and eat in the garden!” Edward snickered and laughed.

I will be honest then when Joy first said that her son dared her to do things I was flummoxed. I couldn’t imagine a son daring his parents to do anything as a challenge without sounding rude. The way that Edward phrased his dare it sounded silly and frivolous, and he grinned.

“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” Joy put her hands on her hips stubbornly, although she didn’t seem to take him seriously.

“Yeah, the neighbors would too!” Charlie piled on to the debt.

“They already think I am a nutter,” Joy shrugged as if one more piece of evidence that she was mad wouldn’t shift the balance of public opinion. “I suppose you will have a yell out to the garden if you want seconds or a refill of water?”

“Sophie can get up and get it,” Charlie volunteered his sister. Sophie for her part shook her head no.

“Sophie doesn’t do dares,” Joy defended Sophie and dismissed the notion that she would get up. I remained politely quiet. I didn’t feel it my place to delve in my aunt’s kitchen or I would have volunteered to get my own refills. “Fine, but not every meal then? What if it rains?”

“Then you’d better eat in the buff, you wouldn’t want to get your clothes wet,” Charlie grinned.

My aunt laughed boisterously over the suggestion and seemed to think that was not a bad idea, despite appearing to be reluctant about stripping. “Can I at least keep my knickers?” she seemed to be negotiating with them.

I thought OBVIOUSLY YOU CAN KEEP YOUR KNICKERS ON! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!

“Absolutely!” Charlie suddenly seemed to have a change of heart about his mother stripping and generously told she could at least wear them. Joy was already popping the snaps to her bra and fidgeting with the clips that held her tits in place. Sophie rolled her eyes as if she knew what was coming next and Edward looked on as if waiting for a punchline. “I wouldn’t want your hair to get a mess. You can wear them as a hat.”

“Oh really? You want me to look quite mad today,” she laughed as she slid the bra off like it was not a big deal to disrobe in front of her kids and me. I had never seen bare tits in real life and hers were huge honking tits, fat and pendulous. The Bra made them look like melons but without it they fell down to her belly. Her nipples were massive, and her areola was the size of small plates.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a pair of udders before,” Charlie noticed my uneasiness and dismay as I blushed and averted my gaze. He put his hands under his mother’s tits- not in any sexual way. More like one would hold a cantaloupe to judge its ripeness and weight.

“Let Timothy be, he’s not used to your auntie Emma being starkers and he doesn’t have sisters,” My aunt chastened him for teasing me but didn’t slap his hands away. She began to remove her garter and as she did, she bent over and let her massive tits hang down.

My food was getting cold, but it wasn’t very appetizing. It was obviously left-overs that had been re-heated more than once and was quite oily. I couldn’t stop watching my aunt strip. I wouldn’t call it a strip tease, but she adjusted her garter and unsnapped the locks in a way that was arousing. I had to put my napkin in my lap to politely hide my erection.

I knew I shouldn’t have gotten turned on but the combination of how she slowly revealed her naked body, and how unabashedly bold she was about stripping at her kitchen table was strangely appealing. I assumed women of her age and manner would be far more reserved even around their own husbands.

It was not sexy or arousing to see my mother’s face in Joy’s face. Joy is a little more roly-poly with a rounded face than my mom. I think the only thing that kept me from shooting a load in my pants was the fact that I was thinking about my mom as this went on.

There was a sexy element to how Joy undressed, but it wasn’t sophisticated or what I imagined a woman would do if she was trying to turn me on. The best way I can describe Joy is with the three words “Slap and Tickle and Giggle.”

My Aunt’s body wasn’t hard and muscular like a super model. It was soft, pale and doughy like a British mother. She had rolls and wrinkles, but she was also very naturally sexy in a way that didn’t take itself too seriously. She giggled and bounced and as she did her tits bounced, and her ass cheeks wiggled, and she just didn’t take herself very seriously.

By the time she was rolling down her hose, I couldn’t take my eyes away. I probably had my mouth wide open in dismay. She turned around and faced away from the table and bent over. As she did, I could see inside the crack of her ass. The knickers she wore rode up her crack and had a t-shape at the top like a thong or G-string but with a smidge more material and support. I could see the roundness of her ‘ring hole’ as she called it earlier (parts of it anyway). The sides of her anus were visible on either side of the material, and I wondered if she knees as she bent over and removed her shoes and hose.

Edward, Sophie and Charles were eating as if this were fairly normal, and they didn’t stare. Their mother removed her final stocking and turned around then she slid her panties down by rolling them down and bending over.

I could see her ring hole AND the wet, fat pussy between her legs from behind in all of its earthy and unrefined glory. There was nothing small about her pussy – It was quite hairy, and I could smell her fishy scent from where I sat. The others ignored it.

She bounced as she turned around and said “Ta-Da!” all that stripping had to take almost 10 minutes. The final touch was to take her panties and slip them over her head so that the cloth that had been between her legs was now over her nose.

I felt she was expecting applause, but the others ignored her. “Right then, I’ll just be out in the garden with me food.”

“We’ll have to get a bell in case we need you,” Charlie mused.

“Yeah, we can give you a ring!” Edward pretended to ring an imaginary bell and grinned at his mother as she walked out the door.

“Oh you two, you are incorrigible,” Joy walked outside with a plate and some silverware. She came back in almost immediately and futzed around to make sure that we had water and silverware before pouring herself a glass of lemonade and going out to the garden.

“Is it like this every day?” I asked as I picked at my food.

The others dove in as if they were famished.

“No, usually we have better food, but Mum is on a budget,” Charlie said. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or answering my question seriously.

“I meant with your mother stark naked in the garden?”

Edward and Charlie laughed. “Liked that, did you?”

“No, I am just confused,” I admitted that I had not expected any of this. This was the ‘normal’ for my cousins though and they thought I was over-reacting.

“Your mouth hung open like you were hungrier for mom’s milk than you were for pip and squeak,” Charlie mocked me. I tried to play it off by saying that the pip and squeak wasn’t very good, but the dry humor fell flat. I denied being interested in my aunt sexually and none of them challenged me on that.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit mean to make her eat outside in the nude?” I asked.

Sophie flicked her eyes up from her food as if what I said resonated with her, but she didn’t say anything.

“She can always say no,” Charlie shrugged.

“Has she?” I asked and clarified “Has she ever said no to a dare?”

They looked at each other and tried to think of a time. “Joy loves it,” Edward said.

“That tears it,” I put my fork down as forcefully as I could give my upbringing. “Do you not think it is disrespectful to call your mother Joy? She puts food on the table and a roof over your head. Surely, even with your dare games you could show her the common respect of addressing her as mum?”

The three siblings regarded me as if I was being crabby and over-reacting. They looked at each other as if silently deciding amongst themselves how to respond. Charlie looked over his shoulder and called “Oh JOY? Ring-a-ding-ding.”

I heard Joy’s laughter through the door outside. She laughed as she opened the door without hesitation. “You were serious about the bell?” finding it rather hysterical. She was still chewing her food and she wiped her food as she walked over to the table to see what she could do for us.

Charlie repeated what I had just said about respecting her for putting a roof over their head, and how they should call her Mum and not by her first name – which was a nickname anyway. Her real name was Joanne Crump.

“Finally, an angel among men who appreciates the sacrifices I make,” Joy was smiling as she paid me the hyperbolic compliment. “I truly appreciate that, I do. I told you to call me Joy at the train station though. There is no point in my putting on airs. All of my friends call me Joy, and you are family, so you are closer than friends. Now, is there anything I can do for you? or did you call me in here just to ask me if I was offended by being called Mum?” she pointed to the panties on her head. “If I’ll wear my panties on my head for these two, I am not exactly easily offended, now, am I?”

When I said there wasn’t, she walked back outside barefooted – a little bowl legged. It was obvious to me she was well practiced wearing heels and felt shorter and less balanced without them. She looked half a head shorter without her heels. She was shorter than Edward.

Her tits swung like two balls being carried in sacks swinging from her chest as she spun and went back outside to finish her food.

“You can give her dares as well,” Edward offered. I had no interest in doing that.

Sophie nodded as if she expected as much and that I’d jump at the chance to order my aunt around.

Charlie shot his little brother a glare “and kill our poor old mum with boredom? What sort of dares would he give? Ooh, play cricket with me, look at how posh I am! Law-dee-daw!” he mocked my southern accent.

“Nah, I dare you to draw us a nice warm bath, make us hot cocoa and rub our tummies while you sing us a nursery rhyme,” Edward chuckled through his imitation of me. It wasn’t quite as insulting when he did it because he talked with much the same accent that I did.

“I am sure I am not up to the highbrow caliber of farting in your mother’s teeth,” I seethed. I doubt they noticed that my temper flared, but I felt rather put upon at the moment. I was still making sense of what I had just seen, and I didn’t appreciate how the brothers ganged up on me.

“So show us then,” Charlie offered me the opportunity like it was a challenge.

“Mumsie-wumsie, big-fat-bumsie?” Edward shouted through the door in a mockingly adoring tone.

I heard Joanne drop her fork and call back “Yes, my love?”

“Come in here please,” Edward continued his derisive tone.

“I didn’t hear a bell ring, dear,” Joy playfully responded and waited for Edward to make a ring-a-ding sound before opening the door. She was still eating as she walked in and approached the table to see what she could do for us.

“Timothy would like to offer you a dare,” Charlie put me on the spot and I blushed immediately.

“Caw, You would, would you?” Joy seemed pleasantly surprised to hear that. My Aunt frequently added the word “Caw” before she spoke and punctuated her speech liberally with lots of “ums” that I am intentionally leaving out for readability. I am also doing my best to skip all the “muh bum” and “me tits” and just stick with the convention of “My bum” and “My tits” as well as the American version of ass and asshole.

However, in this instance I felt that the fact that Joy said “caw” punctuated her curiosity. I expected her to tell me that this was a game for her and her sons and not me.

It was all well and good that my aunt was flattered that I was willing to dare her to do something. I was flattered she’d even consider it. I thought this was going to be a game that was only for immediate members of her family and didn’t apply to nephews and the like.
I had not prepared anything. My mind was drawing a blank. I felt it was unfair to humiliate Joy, and yet that seemed to be the goal of the game.

She stared at me and blinked with enthusiasm as if she was expecting something fun. The panties on her head made her look ridiculous. I looked down at her hairy bush and then back at her tits. What could I come up with that would both impress my cousins while at the same time not be particularly mean or degrading?

“Are there any boundaries? I am rather new at this,” I said.

“That’s okay, my sons used to be as well,” Joy admitted. “Just give me a dare. I can always say no,” she rolled on the balls of her feet as if she was nervously awaiting my decision.

Charlie seemed to delight in my indecision and hesitancy much more than his little brother.

It would have made things easier for me if my aunt had provided me a list of things she will not do, so that I did not ask for things well outside of the realm of possibility. The truth was that I was not afraid of asking for anything to extreme, but I was afraid of asking her to do something that would seem weak or trivial to her sons.

Her interest was waning, and she could see that she didn’t want to keep standing there. “Right, my dinner is getting cold, and the birds are picking at it,” she turned and looked out the window. A wood pigeon (which is a lovely bird with a grey and white chest) was dancing on her plate.

“I dare you to peck at your food like a bird,” I finally said.

“With no hands or silverware?” Joy asked incredulously.

“Yes Joy,” I said – oh wow, that was strange. I addressed an adult by their first name. I had never done that. I had always used a more formal term when speaking to adults even ones I did not know.

She turned reluctantly and looked out the window at her food. “Let me get a fresh plate,” she said with a look of trepidation.

Charlie and Edward smiled.

“No, there is food out there or the bird would go away,” I explained.

“Leave the door open, Joy, so that we can enjoy the view,” Edward added.

She looked at me helplessly as if she wasn’t sure about that before asking “What should I do with my hands while I eat?”

“At your sides, of course,” I said.

She shrugged her shoulders and went outside. She shooed away the bird and left her garden door open. we watched her bend over, bob down and pick up a sliced piece of cabbage or carrot and then swallow it one at a time. At times, she got a little bit of grease in her panties or on her nose.

“Can I wipe me mouth?” she asked for clarification with a slight giggle.

I looked at Charles and Edward to see if that might be too cruel. They both remained silent. “No, Joy.”

“You can wipe yer bum,” Edward laughed, and his brother did as well.

I know I should not have felt a guilty pleasure in my aunt’s humiliation. I quite enjoyed it and since Joy had as well – it seemed like it was not wrong. Charlie and Edward approved and even though Sophie did not, I didn’t think she’d ever crack a smile or approve of me.

“Oh Hello, Mr. Langford,” I overheard Joy address a man on the other side of the garden. I couldn’t hear him. I was instantly nervous and felt we had gone WAY too far with this. “No gardening today, thank you for asking. I am just having me dinner! My nephew is saying with us for the summer holiday.” She paused and I heard a voice respond but not what he said. “Yes, this is another of my dares. My nephew’s idea to eat without me hands actually.”

I was flattered although Charlie and Edward had framed the dare. They seemed to enjoy listening to their mother eat crow while the neighbor carried on a conversation with her. I would have liked to listen to more of it, but Charlie addressed me instead.

“When mum first started doing dares outside, Mr. Langford threatened to call the constable,” Charlie told me. “Well, naked dares anyway. She’s been doing dares for me since I was old enough to give them, but they were always quite simple and took less than a minute at most.”

“They used to like to dare me to wobble about on high heels. I couldn’t handle them back them. I’d flop and dance until I fell straight on me bum and they’d laugh and laugh. I got so good at dancing in them that I like wearing them all the time. They make me feel sexy,” she insisted.

“And taller,” Sophie noted.

“Yes, taller as well,” Joy grinned in agreement. “The dares are just harmless fun. The boys would like to feed me porridge out of their hands and dare me to rub me face it. I am always up for a laugh -even if it’s at me own expense.”

“Especially at your own expense,” Sophie observed dryly.

“Better me, than laughing at other people,” Joy was one to always be looking for the bright side of things.

“A few years ago, I told Joy to go outside and prune the shrubs in just her brassiere and knickers and I was surprised when Joy did it. I think it took her mind off of Dad leaving,” Charlie explained. Joy didn’t look so bright and chipper when her son mentioned his father. I knew that was a sore spot.

“Joy’s nipples were poking out of that brassiere, and she couldn’t believe she was really out there trimming the hedges that way. Mr. Langford came out of his flat and had a word with her about indecent exposure and said she might as well be naked. The next day I sent her out topless, and the day after completely naked. He eventually softened.”

“Most people in the village have seen my fanny already, I’d imagine,” Joy shrugged. My aunt made it sound like since people around these parts already thought she had gone loony that she might as well live up to the reputation. “People are always going to talk and spread gossip about someone, they are going to think what they are going to think.”

“Our neighbor used to snap pictures of Joy when she was outside doing the yard or garden. I think now he isn’t surprised by much,” Andrew added.

“Are all of the close neighbors supportive?” I asked.

“Oh no, they run the gamut from sticks in the mud who complain to randy devils that want to join in,” Charlie explained.

“So she will perform a dare for anyone?”

Charlie and Edward regarded me as if I was stupid. “Not many ask her, and most just want straight sex. The only people I’ve seen her do dares for are the ones we dared her to ask,” Charlie explained.

“You didn’t dare your mum to ask me,” I observed.

Joy was still talking to Mr. Langford but she had returned to bending her back straight down, lowering herself and picking up a piece of fried vegetable like a bird using their beak.

“Your family,” Charlie qualified that with an “I guess.”

“We told her you wanted to give her a dare,” Edward bragged.

“Well, thank you for that. My curiosity is satiated,” I said and promptly retired from the dare business. I felt I had established I knew how and that was good enough.

After dinner, my aunt came back inside, cleared the table and her and Sophie washed the dishes and put them away. Joy kept the panties on her head and remained naked for a little while. “Is it about time for me to get dressed then? At least remove my hat, yeah?” she asked her sons.

She seemed to be glowing and excited as she strutted around the house in the nude. I found it hard not to look at her body everywhere she went but I did not stare.

“That’s up to our house guest,” Charlie answered. I really did not want to be further involved in their debauched games now that I understood it better. Joy looked at me expectantly.

“Are you really more comfortable in knickers and brassier? Or would you rather wear proper clothes?”

I noticed that Joy’s body language wilted a little. “I suppose my house frock is the most comfortable, but you don’t have to dare me to put that on,” she stalked off to her room and changed into a simple long gown like the one her daughter wore.

South Godstone is an impossibly boring village with almost nothing to it. There is a chapel, a postal office, petrol station, a few restaurants and a proper pub called the Fox and Hound a short distance away. There is not anything of cultural significance and not even a library or community pool. I am told that in America they have single housing developments that dwarf a village of this size.

I went out of the flat looking for something to occupy my time while I visited my aunt and cousins. That was going to be harder than I thought.
I enjoy writing stories that I would love to read. If you read my stories and enjoy them, the best way you could reward me is to write something along the same themes and genre.
All of my stories: https://storiesonline.net/a/eddie-davidson
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Chapter 3

Post by EddieDavidson »

I rode a bike with Charlie and Edward around the village. The one they lent me to use was a bit too small for me. They seemed to be looking for something to do as well. Their flat was just as dull and unexciting.

They didn't have any video games, and the television was an old set-top box that only received broadcast channels. There was a documentary about what a festering sod Jimmy Savile was on one channel, static on the other, and another documentary on cheeses of the Netherlands on the other. The static was the most interesting of the three programs.

I didn't get very good signal on my cell phone, and they had no computer. There were almost no books and what they did have was cheap romance paperback novels in Joy's room. Sophie had a couple Percy Jackson novels and a biography of Taylor Swift. I tried to read them because I was that bored.

I found myself frequently coming back downstairs to the living room simply because I had exhausted all other forms of entertainment for myself. My cousins didn't keep their mother constantly performing dares like a trained circus animal. They were rare and perhaps that is what made them far more interesting.

I will give you a prime example. It is shocking that more people in South Godstone hadn’t gone mad simply from the tedium of the place. There was fuck all to do there. Things were so tedious around South Godstone that I rode up and down the street counting the flat numbers and then adding them to see if there were any interesting patterns.

It is no surprise that I kept checking the flat to see if a dare was taking place. I didn't want to direct the dares. My reasoning was that I thought it was probably wrong to give my aunt dares and I wasn't sure if she would tell my mother. Joy was boisterous and it was very possible she'd thinking nothing of bragging about something I dared her to do to my mom as she had Mr. Langford.

My curiosity, coupled with the encroach of boredom on the first day, was not the only reason I kept hoping to catch another glimpse of a dare happening. It was fun and funny and a little arousing – despite Joy being my aunt and more than twice my age. I simply wasn't prepared to fully be honest with myself.

It stays bright out much longer in the summer months, so you have a lot of time during the day. It wasn't quite supper time (last meal of the day after tea), and it would be dark in a few hours.

I happened upon my Aunt Joy outside in the garden getting on the Edward's bike. It was clearly intended for a teenage boy.
She was wearing a one-piece strappy red negligee that did nothing to cover her butt. She was wearing the same black knickers (or ones like them), her red garters, black hose, 4-inch heels, and she had done up her hair.

"What are you doing, Joy?" I found it difficult to suppress the urge to at least call her Aunt Joy.

"Edward dared me to ride his bike to the petrol store and buy some gum. He said I can't chew and pedal at the same time. So, I am proving him wrong, but some chance I have on this bike. I haven't ridden one in years, and I can't even get out of the garden.”

"You have never ridden a bike to the petrol station, even in clothes?”

"I am not blooming Lady Godiva; I haven't ridden a bike in me birthday suit either," she said. I briefly recalled hearing of a nude bike ride through England, but it sounded like something sensational, and I didn't know much about it. I knew that even dressed as she was Joy would get a lot of attention.

She struggled to pedal the bike and balance on it without falling over as she practiced on the garden tile.

"Where are Charlie and Edward?" I asked.

"Caw, I don't know," Joy shrugged.

"Aren’t they going to watch you?”

“Nah, they know their mum will give it a try. They might take a peep out of my window as my big butt heads down Lagham Road, but they seldom go with me on dares anymore.”

That seemed odd and somewhat disappointing. My first thought was to ask how could you be sure she completed the dare. My second thought was that it would be fun to watch her laugh and giggle as the bumpy road forced her butt to jiggle. My third was it may be helpful to come along in case something went wrong.
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The Crumps told me that not everyone appreciated her antics and sometimes they confronted her or called her names like strumpet or whore. When I offered to go with her, she brightened and thanked me. “You will? Aren’t you just a gentleman.”

I had already ridden a bike around South Godstone twice and knew exactly where the Petrol station was. There was only one in this tiny town. The Shell wasn’t very far, just up on Station Road that led to the train station. It was a little over 300 meters from my aunt’s flat.

We practiced a little on the road out in front of the flat. A few boys younger than me and their sister pointed at her butt and laughed. My Aunt kept lifting her ass off of the seat. Her big butt cheeks were exposed every time she tried to pedal. The more she tried to pedal the small bike the more she tried to stand and hunch over. Even though she wore knickers, they were in the crack of her ass and gave the impression that she was naked.

Joy acknowledged them and blushed, but she didn’t take offense. “Freddy Mercury was singing about me when he sang fat bottomed girls,” she said. She loved Freddy Mercury and sang a few of his lyrics as she gained confidence. She started riding her bike the opposite direction of the petrol station.

“It’s just up here, Joy,” I said.

“I’ve lived here for four years,” Joy smiled politely and laughed. “I know exactly where it is. I have to take the long way. That’s the dare,” she said.

What started out as a few minutes on a bike quickly stretched into twenty minutes as we rode up Lagham and looped around until we were back at her flat. She waved up to Charlie and Edward who were watching from her bedroom window as if she is riding in a Triathlon.

Most people out watering their lawns were friendly and waved. They knew her name and wished her a good evening. She knew theirs. There were a few who shot her angry glances.

“I don’t gossip, but her husband is shagging one of the waitresses as the Fox and Hound,” she whispered. Fox and Hound is a tavern just outside of the village.

We rode past Saint Stephen's Church. It’s an old church but you can’t throw a stone in England without hitting one of those. There was nothing remarkable about it save for the fact it was probably the largest structure in the village.

“You don’t feel sacrilegious riding past a church?” I asked.

“Just because my fanny is hanging out?” she giggled, and we rode past it again. “No, I do not believe so,” Joy admitted after she gave it some thought.

I asked her what her favorite dares were so far. She said there were too many to mention and that she liked the one I gave her to do today.

“I was concerned you might be angry that it was.” I stopped short of telling her why it was.

“Degrading? Humiliating? That’s the point of a dare. You think I don’t know people are laughing at me, Timothy?” the question was rhetorical. She asked, “The important thing is did YOU enjoy watching me doing it?”
“Kind of, yes,” I admitted. I didn’t want to sound like a pervert.

“What good is a dare if the person giving it to you doesn’t enjoy watching you?” She asked rhetorically.

I replied by reminding her that Charlie and Edward hadn’t watched this dare.

“Yes, but as I said earlier, they know I am doing their dare and as long as they know I’ll keep myself honest and not cheat to finish early or save myself a little dignity then I am happy if they are happy! This bike ride is exhausting anyway,” she huffed a little as she pumped the pedals up an inclined street.

“You mentioned saving yourself dignity? I thought you enjoyed having none?” I asked.

“I have SOME, Timothy,” she seemed really amused by the assertion that she didn’t have any dignity at all. “I don’t put on airs like Emma might,” she referenced my mother. It would be fair to say that my mom was a dignified example of a middle-class working mother, but not anyone particularly prideful or regal.
“I am a tubby little slag with fat tits and an even fatter titties, and I know that. I give up some dignity when I do these dares and I know the jokes on me,” she laughed.

I wanted to ask her if the humiliation ever hurt her feelings, but her eyes were twinkling, and she seemed to be having fun. I was enjoying talking to my aunt more than I thought I would.

“What could I have done to make the dare you gave more enjoyable?” she asked.

“Squawked a bit like a real bird?” I finally suggested as we coasted down a hillier part of the village. I wasn’t even watching the surprised faces of some of the people. The ones who lived further away from her did seem much more shocked to see a woman in a skimpy negligee than the ones closest to her.

“Ha-ha-ha, well then why didn’t you dare me?”
“I didn’t want to seem cruel,” I said.

“Cruel? What’s cruel about it? If I said yes, then it’s my own fool head that is squawking by my choice. You’ve got to learn something Timothy that took me a lot longer than you’ve been alive to finally understand. You can’t live a life of regret wondering about what might have happened if you took a risk and did something foolish. I tried that for many years, and it cost me a marriage and a nice house. I don’t do that any longer but now I am a fat-ass slapper with more belly than brains.”

“You are not,” I insisted.

“I know what I am, Timothy,” she looked at me rather seriously and, in that moment, I saw my mother’s countenance staring back at me. Joy seemed dead serious, but it only lasted a moment. Then she stood up and began to pedal harder, each time she pushed her legs down her ass cheeks lifted up and down like pistons working her mighty buttocks. “I am enjoying sitting on this bike seat, but it is killing my legs,” she changed the subject and giggled lightly.

When she was finally ready to go to the petrol station, she had gone the length of the village at least twice. She wobbled a little as she got off. The most remarkable thing was that she pedaled with high heels. She bragged that she practices quite a bit in the heels. “These are my most sturdy pair,” she said as we walked in.

There was only one car filling up with petrol outside. The man at the pump stared at her buttocks as we walked in. We left our bikes unlocked. You can’t do that in London but in a village like this you’d see the person who stole your bike again the next day and know exactly who it was because it was so small.

The cashier didn’t seem surprised when Joy sashayed into the store. A few customers looked shocked and one of the older women looked down her nose at both of us. I realized I was WITH her now and people regarded as a package even though I was wearing normal clothes and not doing anything out of the ordinary.

“Condoms?” the cashier asked.

I could sense that Joy’s legs were throbbing from the workout. “I’ve plenty, Harry! Too many. Perhaps you can help me use them up some time,” she flirted with the older man. He held up his ring as his answer.

“Your wife can come too! The more the merrier,” she offered.

The blonde older lady huffed angrily at both of us like a royal looking down at unwashed peasants. Joy smiled pleasantly and scratch her big, bare butt cheek as she stood at the counter and asked for a single pack of gum. She removed a credit card from between her tits and offered it to him.

He had to press it dry because it was sweaty before the machine would take it.

She took one stick of gum and offered it to me.

“Who is this? A new beau you met off Tinder?” Harry asked. Tinder is a dating app.

“Very funny, Harry! This is my handsome nephew, Timothy. He’s come to visit for Summer Holiday.”

“I saw him riding his bike around earlier,” He nodded his approval and told me “All the young ladies will be after you. Everyone who grew up here is probably a cousin going back generations, so new boys are a prized commodity.”

I hadn’t seen many girls when I went riding my bike, but I also didn’t know where to look. He suggested I might only have eyes for my aunt.

“I am not shagging my nephew, Harry,” she put her arm around me when she denied it. He didn’t seem to believe it.

After we left, Joy told me that most people assumed she was fucking her sons. “They probably think I am shagging Sophie as well. It doesn’t matter what they think. People will always love rumors. I am not the first village jezebel. There were sordid ladies people thought were wicked for centuries.”

“Yeah, they burned them at the stake sometimes though,” I joked. She laughed about that as we got on our bikes.

She explained something to me very clearly that helped me to understand her line. “Anyone can dare me to do anything, you, my boys – whoever. I can always say no if I want to. I seldom do, but there are some things I won’t do.”

I really thought she might be joking at this point – her capacity for sexually degrading acts seemed unlimited.

“I don’t shag my boys, and I won’t shag you. I’ll do just about anything up to that, but I won’t do that. It’s an unspoken rule, but there is a line. If people want to think we’re shagging, and they like to think that then they can. I am sure Harry is pulling his pud right now imagining all the naughty things I am going to let you dare me to do.”

“But you shag everyone else?”

“Oh yeah, pretty much any man, anytime, anywhere,” she giggled as we coasted out of the Shell station.

“And, you really do use Tinder to meet some of them?” I asked as we turned left on Lagham. We took the direct path back to her flat this time.

“I don’t touch it,” she said as if she was proud of herself. “As a dare, my boys put me on Tinder and set me up on dates. I don’t check the emails; I don’t talk to the men ahead of time. I have no idea what they know about me when they arrive. It’s been great fun, so far.”

I had a nice chuckle as I imagined a bloke showing up to a date and the woman had no idea who he was.

I asked her how many men so far and she told me it had been six or seven. “Surprisingly, no second dates, but I leave that up to my sons. They either got chuffed and thought I was bonkers, or my sons thought they weren’t good enough for me.”

She hit a small bump in the road that made her buttocks jiggle up and down in time with the bump. A man was washing his car and nearly sprayed his cat with the garden hose.

“I am sure it was that they were simply not good enough,” I meant what I said.

“Does Emma know what an impossibly good son she has?” Joy’s eyes twinkled mischievously. I didn’t want to get back to the house and finish our conversation. I was curious how the dates went. She told me there were a bit like the TV program “Naked Attraction” – which is a scandalous dating show where contestants choose a person based solely on their body to date.

I wanted to know but she laughed and dared me to race her. I pumped my legs as fast as I could. Joy was trying to pull a much heavier caboose than I’d ever have, and I easily beat her.

She hopped off her bike, gave me a warm hug, and still panting from the exhausting effort she gave just to finish last she said “You won! So, what were the stakes?”

“We didn’t bet anything,” I reminded her.

“Usually, Charlie or Edward tell me after I lost a bet what the stakes were,” she giggled playfully as we put away the bikes and went inside. I saw Mr. Langford. He was a dour pensioner who looked like someone who might have spent his life in the civil service. He waved at us as we went inside.

“Finally,” Charles was impatiently waiting at the table. “It’s Sir Bradley Wiggins and Lady Pig-Face.”

Bradley Wiggins is one of Britain’s most famous cyclists and even though I knew Charlie was trying to put me down by comparison I didn’t take offense. I did to him calling his mother pigface. “Your mum puts herself down a lot. Can you just be nice?” I defended herself.

“Joy, are your feelings hurt because I called you a pig-face?” he asked her as if he was concerned that he had gone too far – but his tone suggested he was not serious.

“Not a bit, now that you mention it I am getting a bit piggy,” Joy snorted like a pig and made funny sounds with her mouth. Even Sophie laughed at how silly she sounded.

“Did you get the gum I asked you for, Joy?” Edward asked.

“I rode all over South Godstone but finally found some, Edward,” she handed him the remains of pack. He took it and dared her to put the gum she was chewing on her nose.

She didn’t hesitate to remove it from her mouth and stick it on her nose.

“Nose? I think we can do a bit better than daring Mum to wear her gum on her nose,” Charlie acted like the humiliating act of wearing the gum she had just bared her ass in front of the village to retrieve on her nose was old hat.

“Panties around ankles, bend over and try to touch your ring hole with your nose until your gum sticks,” Charlie instructed.

He didn’t say “I dare you to” do this filthy, depraved act. He simply ordered his mother as if she was his property. I thought that the least he could do was to phrase the dare in the form of a request.

Aunt Joy had already started bending over trying to perform the dare before I could ask Charlie to at least phrase his dare as a request and not a demand. She stretched and her huge tits fell towards the ground and across her face. She had her legs spreads and tried desperately to find a way to pull herself through her legs and reach her ringhole. “If I could reach me cunny with my nose, I would never leave home! I’ll never reach my ring hole!”

She tried anyway and yes – I saw her ring hole in all of its puckered glory close up. It looked sweaty and dirty but there was no poop on it. Her asshole and cunt were soak in cream from sweat and pounding herself down on her son’s bicycle seat for a couple kilometers. She got close to her pussy, but her anus was impossibly far away. She stuck her long tongue out, put the wad of cum on her tongue and tried to lick the gum onto her cunt.

Even her daughter watched with amusement. “Oh bother, I am afraid we’ll need to tell the doctor to remove a few of my ribs and I’ll try again,” she continued to force herself to stretch as she inched closer and closer to her wet pussy while her tongue hung out.

“You know what happens when you take a dare and you can’t complete it, Joy?” Charlie grinned wickedly. She knew she could never complete the dare and so did everyone else.

“Oh no, not consequences?” she was downright giddy as she pretended not to look forward to coming consequences.

“Mum seems like she enjoys consequences too much lately,” Edward observed. The boys agreed they would have to make them far more stringent in order to make them proper incentives to complete a dare.

I didn’t like that the boys were not being fair to their mother – even if she seemed to be encouraging it.

“Your dear old mum isn’t an according! I’ll never reach my shitter! Would you be kind enough to help me out?” she asked them.

Edward removed the wad of gum from the tip of his mother’s tongue and asked her if she agreed to her consequences. He didn’t tell her what they were. “Yes, obviously!” she agreed without knowing what she agreed too. He placed the gum on the tip of her ring hole and let her stand up.

They insisted she waddle around the kitchen with her panties around the ankles and make supper. Charlie and Edmund periodically made her spread her cheeks while she prepared the food to show them, she hadn’t dropped the gum.

“So what are my consequences?” she asked.

I thought preparing supper like that WAS THE CONSEQUENCES. They laughed and said that if they really wanted to be cruel Joy’s consequences tonight would be that Sophie would make supper and they’d all have to eat the driest Chip Butty that has ever been made.

A Chip Butty is basically a sandwich made of fries and it is famously difficult to ruin, but apparently Sophie had in the past and Charlie and Edward liked to tease her about it. She frowned and gave them both the stink eye but didn’t argue it.

I noticed that while Joy seemed to delight in being made fun of at times, she never stood up for Sophie, but she also didn’t seem to enjoy it when the boys talked down to her either. I found that interesting to only in that she seemed to wallow in being insulted at times and only tolerate it when the boys were slightly rude to their sister.

I tried to get my head around how Joy’s mind work because I’ve never seen a family dynamic like this. My logic was that I would find it painful to hit my thumb with a hammer and so I assume everyone else does and tries to avoid it. I’d never met anyone like Joy who could laugh when her son called her a pig face and genuinely seemed to think it was funny. I assumed then by virtue of what she found funny, that she might find it funny if people said that to others.

Joy tolerated a certain amount of teasing of all of her kids, but she would also stand up to them and put her foot down. I was still trying to understand how that worked when the boys could give her “consequences”. She begged them to tell her what they were going to be, and the suspense seemed to be killing her.

Joy made one more attempt to convince the boys to tell her what her consequences would be as she set the table. She served us sausage, green peas, bits of cheese and mashers. It was a simple but filling meal and while there was no gravy for the mashers it looked far more appetizing than the Bubble and Squeak.

“What fun would there be in telling you until tonight?” Charlie insisted that he wouldn’t tell his mother what punishment was in store for her – just that the consequence was coming. “Now, it seems we are one chair short, and we’ve already seen your bird imitation.”

“It wasn’t very good,” Edward flapped his arms and mocked her.

The natural assumption was that Joy would be standing again while the rest of us sat. I was torn because I had very deeply rooted beliefs instilled in me about fairness and politeness that you shouldn’t pick on the same person. Yet, it was her house and she seemed to enjoy it.

“Timothy, you are the guest, and you had a good dare last time. What would you dare joy to do tonight for supper?”

“No fair putting Timothy on the spot,” Joy said. This time she was standing up for me. She grinned and stood there with her panties around her ankles waiting for me to make a suggestion anyway.

“Does the dare need to be in the garden?” I asked politely.

Everyone even Sophie sighed that I still hadn’t gotten my head around the fact that there were no defined rules, other than she was free to refuse and apparently faced unknown consequences if she failed a dare, lost a bet or a competition.

“It can be in the loo for all that matters, or in the kitchen,” Edward explained that it was up to his mother refuse the dare or not. She had tried to do the impossible and I felt some responsibility to at least keep my dare in the realm of possibility.

“I dare you to,” I began.
Last edited by EddieDavidson on Sat Jun 24, 2023 2:46 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Chapter 4

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“I can hardly wait,” Joy took deep breaths of excitement, which made her tits rise and fall. I could see her hard nipples through the material of the red strappy negligee she was still wearing. She also had on stockings and heels even though her panties were down around her ankles.
“I dare you to hold your mouth open and let us toss your meal into your big fat piggy mouth! Naturally, you have to strip so you don’t ruin your pretty negligee!”

“This old thing? You really think it is pretty?” my aunt was already removing her clothes. She hadn’t officially said yes to the dare.

The reaction of her kids was not the hysterical laughter that I had hoped for – even if it was at Joy’s expense. Instead, they seemed largely unimpressed.

I began to wonder if my dare was something that they did frequently, and if it was boring? Could I have added another stipulation. “You’ll go put heavy lipstick around your mouth like a bullseye and hold your mouth wide open!” I added.

Joy seemed largely enthusiastic about that as well, although Charlie, Edward and Sophie merely collectively began eating. Once joy was naked, she briskly ran upstairs to put her make-up.

“Did I not make the dare tough enough?” I asked Charlie and Edward why they were not making wisecracks.

“It was a good one,” Edward told me.
“Yeah, Mum’s dares aren’t always elaborate and complicated,” Charlie explained. “You’ve already seen just how boring it gets here and you’ve been here one day. We’ve lived in South Godstone, in the same flat almost five years. The dares are a brief respite from the mundane.”
“It isn’t a competition between us,” Edward added that he and his brother saw the dares as essential to alleviating the crushing boredom and worked together. I didn’t need to try to impress them.

I felt that it was a competition though and that they were judging me. When their mother returned, she stood flat footed in the kitchen and held her mouth wide open as we tossed peas into her mouth. She missed most, managed a few and laughed the entire time.

“Squat down Joy,” I insisted that even though she was not very tall that I wanted her level to the table. I made her keep bending her knees and holding her legs apart until she was laughing about falling on her bum. We pelted her with peas, and I felt that Charlie and Edward sometimes aimed for her tits which was fine. Every now and then a pea hit the back of the throat and that caused her to choke and sputter, but rather than stop the game everyone continued.

I worried we’d hit her in the eye, but no one mentioned it, and I didn’t want to seem like a worry wort.
Sophie naturally wouldn’t participate at all and bemoaned the waste of food.

“Oh, she’ll eat every last morsel, don’t you worry, Moppet!” Charlie insisted.

It was great fun tossing peas and bits of cheese at her. However, when it came to the sausage and mashers Edward had the great idea to have her kneel and move round the table slowly as the three of us boys hand fed-her.

The mashers were rather dry and flavorless. I fed her from my plate since I didn’t want mine. Charlie scraped all of his into his mother’s mouth when it was his turn.

“Mmmffff…. Char-freee!!! Too much!!!!” Joy tried to gobble and swallow as fast as she could and ended up choking and spitting the mashers onto her great fat tits. Joy looked great when she was messy. Her lips were wet, and her eyes sparkled radiantly like this ordeal for her had been good fun.

She wasn’t done yet. She still had to pick up her mess. I would have been satisfied if she swept them up and put them on the plate and let us try to hit her open mouth again.

“Get down on your hands and knees and suck all of your droppings up like a vacuum! Shame on you for keeping a filthy floor!” Charlie demanded. His mother got down like a dog or a pet. Her ass was pointed toward the table, and she didn’t try to hide her body at all. She began to gleefully chase all the rolling peas on the tile floor and suck them up.

That seemed a bit much to me – although I had an impossible boner and really wanted to whack off. I had been holding off until closer to bedtime as that helped me to fall asleep.

“How come you don’t tell your mother you are daring her and ask her?” I asked Charlie.

Charlie appeared impatient. He and his brother were cheering her on and pointing out little bits of food she missed, encouraging her to suck the mushed up peas faster and faster and I was interrupting their sport.

“It’s just short-hand,” Charlie explained. “We’ve been doing dares so long she knows I am asking. It doesn’t have to be formal.”

Edward and him returned to rooting for their mother to gobble every tiny bit rolling about on the floor. It had to be extremely humiliating to eat like a dog, and it was possibly my favorite dare so far.

After supper, Sophie cleared the table but refused to mop the floor since we made that mess with our games. The boys didn’t give their mother permission to get off the floor, but she didn’t have to crawl either. She sat on the floor, remained nude and had conversations with her for a few hours. Most of it centered around any typical family stuff – past trips, old times, television shows and like any normal after discussion you might have with your family except one participant was naked and sat her bare bottom on the floor while the rest of us sat on the couch or at the table.

Sophie joined us when the dishes were put up and participated in the discussion but she wasn’t very talkative.

My aunt talked about the times she visited my mum in Fulham and how much fun they had when they were teenagers, but it was never randy fun like “shag the football team” kind of stuff. The only time dares and wild things came up was towards the end of the discussion when it became obvious Joy’s curiosity got the best of her.

“Right, it’s two hours to midnight, if you don’t tell me my consequences, I am going to piss myself mad,” she promised. The boys hadn’t forgotten she had consequences, but I found it interesting that this may have been their mom’s subtle way of urging them to start now that there had been a long lull.

They made her wait.

They talked to me about their mother as if she wasn’t present in the living room for a bit. Then we got on the subject of how the dares have evolved over time and how much they enjoyed having a ‘fun mom.’

I asked her sons about the Tinder dates they set up for her. She didn’t want to hear the details because she liked it to be a surprise. She transitioned back to standing but remained naked. She didn’t ask for permission to get dressed, and they didn’t offer.

Charlie and Edward slept on the same kind of surplus medical beds that were in their sister’s room. Their room was a mess. There were stray Medieval Playmobil figures, books, and clothes strewn about the room. It was hard to believe that Charlie and Edward still had toys – given how mature they were about sex. I supposed living with their mom had educated them about women’s bodies in ways that I was just beginning to understand but in other ways, they were just like me.

The posters on the wall were vintage Morrisey and Cure posters. Charlie didn’t like or even listen to those bands. He said they belonged to Joy and his Dad Colin Crump.

I knew their father was a sore spot for them, so I avoided mentioning him.

They showed me the ads for their mother online. They had three ads on three different social media dating apps.

“Desperate Mum up for a shag” was one headline. There was a silly headshot of their mother that made her look like she was shocked, and her mouth was hanging open. The ad was straightforward and written in all capital letters. It looked like this may have been their first advertisement.

BE MY LUCKY DAY! I WILL FUCK ANY MAN, ANY TIME, ANYWHERE! I’M TIRED OF DOGGING IN THE PARK. LOOKING FOR A REGULAR FUCK/POSSIBLE LOVE INTEREST. MUST LIKE BLOWJOBS! NO MARRIED MEN (unless she is into it).

There was some bio information about where she was located, her weight, height and that she had three kids.

The next ad was not quite as blunt. It had better punctuation and wasn’t in all caps. The pictures of their mom was her laughing but often dressed in very slutty outfits.

“Slapper Mum from South Godstone” was the header and underneath was “Single Mum of Three, Two Wonderful Sons, One Boring Daughter”

I thought that was funny, although Slapper is a bit of an insult that implies a woman who fucks a lot of men. I was told the name “Slapper” came about because of the sound two bodies slapping together make during sex. However, I always believed it also meant a woman so ugly that you would fuck her, but you’d also want to “slap her”. At least, that’s what a guy told me once.

The ad made it clear that the men would be talking to the two sons, who would ask them a series of questions and then set their mom on a date. The reason being was that my Aunt Joanne (Joy) felt that unless her sons approved, she wouldn’t date them. That was actually true. The advertisement went on to list her interests as:
“Getting right to it, Pints, and long walks on the beach.”

Charlie said he was half joking with that profile, but that they surprisingly got most of their mom’s dates from it.

Once, they gave her a naked dare before her date arrived and didn’t tell her he was coming. They wanted her genuine reaction meeting him. He waited in the living room while she got dressed and ready and he took her out for a supper.

There were a few others where they did the opposite and asked her to strip when the man arrived and let him decide if he wanted to go out with her. The men usually thought their mom was crazy, but they turned out to be fun nights for the family anyway.

“Mum says she doesn’t want to date anyone who is going to frown on dares,” Edward said.

“Yeah, he can give her dares but he can’t tell us to stop giving them either,” Charlie said.

I thought that might be a tough order to fill, considering most men would be rather concerned if a woman’s sons gave them dares.

The last one was a rather serious advertisement, that showed their mom in her house frock. It presented her as a single mum on the government dole, raising three teenagers in South Godstone and that she was up for conversation and getting to know someone for a serious relationship.

They told me not ONE hit on that advertisement, despite it being genuine and completely serious without a trace of naughty or silliness. I felt a little bad for their mum.

I didn’t feel like staying up for ‘consequences’. Instead, I went into the bathroom and had a wank. The bathroom was downstairs, and it wasn’t very big and there was a shower. When I went up to Sophie’s room to sleep, Charlie and Edward were literally playing “Slap and Tickle” with their mother.

She was giggling, and they were slapping her bottom playfully and tickling her while she laughed hysterically. I supposed those were the consequences. After such a long, strange day I sat down on the bed in my pajamas and texted my mum.

I wrote a half dozen texts including some that implied my aunt was not what I expected but I left out the naughty bits. I imagined my mother texting me back for more details and so I decided not to bring that up at all. If I was intentionally vague then she’d get suspicious.

“Hello Mum, Arrived in South Godstone. Aunt Joanne is very nice. My cousins are as well. We are getting on well, and had a bit of fun today,” I texted.

“That is so nice to hear, your father and I are staying at Hacienda Macarena in Malaga. It’s beautiful here,” she texted promotional photos of an empty pool and her room number in case I needed to reach her. However, I had her phone. “I am so glad that your Aunt Joanne was able to accommodate you. It’s good that you get to catch up with her and your cousins. She’s been so lonely since Colin and her split up. One word of advice is not to mention him as I do not think she is over him yet and it’s been almost five years. She hasn’t started dating anyone seriously since then.”

She also wrote that she thought I would find it rather boring at the resort. “There is nothing to do all day but sit at the pool,” she texted.

Yeah, sitting in a flat in South Godstone was tons of fun. Although admittedly this was rather exciting. She told me she loved me and signed off.

Shortly after that my cousin Sophie opened the door, walked in and sat down on the bed. That shouldn’t have shocked me except that she was completely naked. She had her brown hair pulled back and was wearing glasses. Her tits hung down in a natural teardrop shape much like her mother’s boobs except a third of the size. She had a very ample bottom but not nearly her mother’s size, and a thick and untamed bush.

She acted like this was absolutely not a big deal and that I should not in any way be surprised. If this was the ONLY thing unusual that happened on my first day at my aunt’s house, I would have been picking my jaw up off of the ground in shock. However, having seen her mother naked I was far more desensitized to being shocked.

“Are you doing dares now?” I asked.

“You wish,” she rolled her eyes and began to work on her nails. “I always come to my room naked after my bath. I used to have my own bathtub before my parents separated,” she shrugged. “We are going to be sharing a room all summer, and I plan to be able to change in here as well. Is that going to be a problem or is it going to be weird?”

This was the most I felt like she had said to me at one time all day. I told her it would not be a problem. “You asked me earlier today if I would be wanking off in your room,” I reminded her. “It’s not my room, but what about my privacy?”

She looked at me with what seemed like confusion and perhaps sympathy for me being so ignorant.

“It’s going to be OUR room for the summer. That’s your bunk, not mine,” she clarified. I told her that I was grateful for that.

“As to privacy, I don’t expect you to leave when I am changing. If it’s our room, then you can stay or you can go as you please. I’d rather you not invite my brothers in but it’s your room as much as mine,” she said.

That was largely unexpected and a very progressive attitude. I thought she meant that she wanted me to leave when she changed so that she could have privacy.

She clarified the last part for me. “I asked you if you would be wanking ALL of the time. I don’t care if you have a wank now and again, we all do it. If it’s constant or you try to shoot it on me that would be rather rude.”

I found it difficult to believe she was willing to put up with a roommate who jerked off – and close enough to shoot his cum on her. Sophie had to this point seemed rather dull, unassuming and mousy.

“Are you having a laugh?” I asked if she was teasing me by telling me something outrageous to observe my reaction.

“You have been giving Joy dares all afternoon. I am shocked you haven’t seen her yet, but at some point, she is going to be dared to finger her growler and balloon knot. Did you think that all she does is gobble peas and eat like a bird?”

Those activities were quite a lot – I really hadn’t considered my aunt masturbating in front of me.

“Does Charlie and Edward have sex with their mum?”

“It depends on what you consider sex,” Sophie could have just said yes at that point because if there was a qualifier it was probably true. “If you mean play rumpy pumpy and stick their cock in her great gash then no. If you mean make each other horny all hours of the day with perverted games then yes,” She sneered.

“You had several boners today,” Sophie made it clear that she noticed them. She pointed out that I had to put my napkin over my trousers to hide them. “Which is a bit more couth than Edward or Charles who will just pull it out at the supper table and have a wank.”

“They wouldn’t?” I was truly in disbelief.

“Have you met them?” she seemed puzzled that I would find it hard to believe that people who put bubble gum on their mother’s anus might be shy about pulling out their cocks in front of her.

“You don’t mind?”

“I mind, but I’ve seen their cocks plenty of times. They are nothing special. This flat is very small, Timothy. We don’t have special wank rooms with butlers to rub our bottoms and wipe the cum off our cunnies.”

“I don’t have a butler,” I added.

She told me she didn’t want to argue with me, and that she was just trying to explain how it is here. “You aren’t the only one who gets horny watching all the antics my mum and brothers get up to. It’s well past midnight now, and I’d like to have a wank in peace, Timothy. You can watch or you can take care of yourself but please stop talking.”

She turned the lights down low and laid back on the bed. I heard her begin to futz-futz-futza-futza finger fuck herself on top of the covers.

I found it impossible to sleep and not think about what she was doing across the room from me. I had already jerked off once and was in no mood to do so again. I kept wondering how she got horny watching this all unfold and yet seemed to find it all disgusting as well.

Eventually I fell asleep. I woke up at the crack of dawn. Light from the windows was shining right in my face. My cousin was asleep, with her hands across her nipples. She was snoring peacefully. I looked at her naked body and felt a little guilty. She was young but a little chubby and pale all over. She didn’t look angry sleeping and I thought she even looked pretty.

I got up and went downstairs to the bathroom. No one was in the kitchen or living area. They must have all been sleeping. The flat had an eerie feel to it when it was totally quiet. There had been so much laughter the night before and now it was as if society had collapsed, and everyone was gone – a house empty.

I went to the bathroom and did what I needed to do. There was still no one up, and I was hungry. I decided to look in the fridge. I didn’t feel it was my place to help myself to what was in the fridge, but I was technically living here now, and I was hungry. I just wanted a nibble to tied me over until breakfast.

My mind was already starting to work on possible dares for my aunt and trying to work out why Sophie’s attitude about masturbating in front of me was so exciting. She seemed to look down her nose at me, and yet she was willing to knock one out in the same room with me and make no secret of what she did.

“Shhh. Timothy,” came a whisper from behind me. I turned and saw no one. It sounded like Joy, but she was normally quite loud. I was alarmed. “Who is it?”

“Me, your Aunt Joy,” she whispered again.

“What? Where are you?”

“Stairs,” she said.

I had just come from the stairs. She wasn’t at the top or the base of the stairs. Once I checked she whispered again. I was stunned to discover my aunt was down on her knees inside a small closet under the stairs. These closets are common in brick walk-ups. People store vacuums and the like in them. My aunt could only present her head to me because it was so small. The closet door had been replaced with a baby gate. It looked like a small fence, and it was designed to be easily set up in small spaces to ensure that a toddler doesn’t enter a room they shouldn’t.

I whispered to ask why we were whispering.

“I don’t want to wake up the kids and make them grumpy. They usually don’t get up this early on Summer Holiday. I asked her why she was stuffed in a cramped closet.

“This is my downstairs bedroom,” she chuckled merrily and seemed rather amused to be in the small hidey-hole.

“Do you want out?” I asked.

“This is my consequence from yesterday,” she didn’t answer with a yes or no, so I didn’t know what to do. I repeated the question, and she said that it wasn’t up to her.

“Then I’ll let you out,” I decided, and I moved the baby gate so that it folded open. It was a simple matter and wasn’t locked at all. I thought she could have gotten out any time she wanted, and I stood back.

Joy inched her way forward and slid across the floor on her tits without the use of her arms. “You probably really do think I am barmy now, don’t you?” she grunted with effort as she undulated her body like a snake trying to worm her way out of the cramped hole. She couldn’t lay flat in the closet. It was probably less than a meter deep and half a meter high. Once she moved forward enough, I could see why she was having trouble getting out.

Her hands were cuffed behind her and tied to ropes attached to her ankles crossways so that she could not stand or move her hands. It had to be incredibly difficult to sleep that way. In addition, she had a rather large dildo shaft hanging out of her asshole and her pussy. The one in her ass was a replica of a realistic black man’s penis. The one in her pussy was more of a sex toy, and the base had dozens of tiny balls that looked like pearls resting in the base like a gumball machine. It was clearly designed to be switched on and operate by battery power.

My dick immediately sprouted in my pajamas and unlike when I wore trousers, the sheer material offered me no privacy. She smiled when she saw my hard-on pop-up. “Do you want me to untie you?”

“That’s not up to me,” she repeated.

I wasn’t sure I could untie her even if I wanted to do so. The rope knots were so tight that they seemed they might be cutting off the blood supply. Her ankles weren’t purple but the rope bit into her skin tightly. The knots were made so elaborately that my first thought was that I might need to cut her out.

I noticed she also had rope around her tits binding those at the base and then again in the middle and finally at the tip. She was lying flat on her tummy, unable to do anything other than inch about. If I wanted, I could have done anything to her.

“You told me that I could dare anything, and you could say no. Why can’t you decide you don’t want to be tied up any longer,” I asked.

Joy seemed in high spirits and didn’t mind the question.

“You can dare me anything, anyone could I suppose. Boris Johnson could dare me to swim the English Channel. I can tell him, you or even my sons to sod off,” She explained.

“About a year ago, I couldn’t complete a dare and I really tried. I thought I could, but I couldn’t, and it seemed rather anti-climactic that I simply gave up. I don’t recall what it was. I think running with an egg in my cunny back and forth and not dropping it,” she tried to recall.

“The boys felt there should be consequences to failing a dare and I agreed. A consequence is a good incentive to try until you can’t try any longer. None of us knew what they were, and we thought it might be situational. If I give up too easily, should I get a bigger consequence? What if the dare was impossible when I accepted it and I knew that? So, I wrote them a blank check.”

She had to explain that a blank check was something people used to write when they trusted the other person to fill in the amount when they knew how much the price should be. We used credit cards now and they were obsolete.

“If I get a consequence then I just have to suck it up and do it,” she said.

“What if it’s too hard or you just don’t want to?”

“I’ve never had that happen, and I trust my boys not to switch my naked ass from here to Scotland over failing a little task,” she laughed. “I trust you too! You seem to really care what happens to me.”

She told me that about six months ago they were racing on a footpath nearby in the woods. “I lost and they told me the stakes of the game after the bet. I guess it’s like a consequence,” she said.

“What would have happened had you won?”

“They are faster than me, so I haven’t won yet. I guess I decide what happens?” she seemed amused by that thought.

“How long can a consequence last?” I asked. I was fascinated by how she could embrace the unknown without some guarantee.

She was confused why I would ask and didn’t see the point. “I don’t work, and the kids aren’t in school, so I guess it could last a while.”

To Joy this was how she lived, and it all made sense and it didn’t need to be questioned. To me, I was still getting my bearings. I wouldn’t have expected to see a dildo in her asshole – even after being told she played with herself in front of her sons.

“What’s the longest a consequence ever lasted?” I asked.

“Caw, you act like I get them all the time. I try to complete my dares, Timothy!” she laughed. “I suppose one day the boys tied me to a tree on the footpath behind the house in the evening and they forgot me out there. It rained and they finally remembered around breakfast time the next day.”

“They just forgot you?”

“They may have intentionally left me out there. I didn’t ask,” She smiled broadly like either way was fine with her.

“You never hold any malice towards them? What if someone came by and found you on the footpath?”

“What would you have me do if a gent popped out of the wood while I was tied up, cock in hand? Tell him on your bike and leave me be?” she seemed to think that would be a wasted opportunity. “I am just a tubby slag. I know you think I am clever and interesting, but I am really not all that. If I thought I might get lucky out in the woods I’d start failing dares all the time hoping for the consequence of a stranger’s long, hard willy up me ass.” My aunt seemed plum tickled by the thought of being helpless to resist a stranger using her for sex and then continuing on his merry way for a jog.

“Surely, you could just go to a park and find some random stranger?”

“Dogging? In the big cities, I’ve gone to some meetups but that takes a lot of time and planning. If the men are just going to pop out of the woods behind me flat then I’d meet them out back,” she said.

“What if there was a fire?” I asked about her being tied up in the crawl space.

“The flat is made of brick, but I’d hope my sons and daughter get out before I do. I sleep like a log, so I’d have as much chance on the second story of crawling through fire as I would the closet,” Joy seemed to think my question was a bit unnecessary considering the unlikeliness of it all. “We’ve not had a fire in South Godstone since I can recall,” she shrugged. “I don’t think we even have a fire department,” she snickered.

“Would you be a dear and see if there is any juice in the rabbit in my gash?” she asked. I surmised the purple sex toy in her pussy was a ‘rabbit’. I reached behind her and flicked it on. The white balls inside it started turning. She seemed amused.

“Would it be too much to ask you to give it a bit of a push?” she asked sweetly.

“Joy? What are you doing?” Charlie was standing at the top of the stairs. His cock was out, and he was naked.

“Oi, the fun police,” she deflated a little. “Sorry Charlie, I was just having a little fun before breakfast.”

“Did you take me mum out of her hidey hole?” Charlie walked down the stairs. His dick was swinging back and forth and slapping against his thighs. He had thick brown pubic hair and his cock head seemed to be swallowed by his penis.
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Chapter 5

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“Aye,” I stopped myself. I never say “Aye”. I’d been there a day and the more rural accent was already rubbing off on me. “Yeah, I am living here as well for the holiday and I should have some say,” I stood up to Charlie. Sophie had told me that her room was MY room since we were sharing, and I made the same case about my aunt.

“You’ve been here one day and already you think you run the place,” he looked a bit jealous. He knelt down and put his balls on his mother’s forehead and squatted. Then he farted once.

“Oh!” she shivered as the fart cascaded down over her head. I could smell it from where I stood – it was noxious.

“That’s for tricking Timothy into turning on your rabbit. That dildo is in your cunny to TEASE not to please!” he reached between her legs and switched it off. Then he pushed it in deeper, and she seemed pleased.

“Ooh, oh! Darn,” Joy laughed in frustration once the motor was cut off, but the dildo was pushed up inside of her.
“I bet you couldn’t undo those knots even if you wanted to,” he looked up at me as if daring me to try. “If you can get her untied before I get out, you get to decide her dare for breakfast. If not, then I do and I am in a foul mood,” he warned.

Then he stomped off to the bathroom.

“I am sorry about getting you in trouble, Timothy,” My Aunt apologized. I struggled with her ropes and bindings, and she just laid flat on her tummy and let me give it a try. The ropes only got tighter the more I tried to free her.

“My kids get me sex toys for holidays,” she explained.

“Every holiday? Even Mother’s Day?”

“Especially Mother’s Day. What else could I want? “I love getting a new toy,” she said.

“Even Sophie buys you one?” I asked as I gave up on the rope. I had only mucked it up worse.

“We don’t have a lot of money, so they pool their bits of money. Yes, Sophie has input and I appreciate it. Anyway, a few months ago they dared me to let them decide when and if I could use them. A big mistake. They only let me play with my toys when I earn them, and they tease me with them otherwise. The dick in my ass is too big even for me, and it’s stretching me and driving me crazy. When it comes out, you may not want to look unless you want a peek at last night’s supper,” she guffawed and grinned over her own joke.

I picked up a table knife and knelt down to cut the bindings. If I couldn’t untie her before her son came out I would still technically free her.

“You mustn’t. We don’t have a lot of rope. Just wait for my son, Timothy. I love doing little dares for you, so if you want to give me one after I finish, I’ll do it.”

I waited with her as she lay on the floor. Edward scratched the sleep out of his eyes and walked down naked. His cock was substantially longer than mine or Charlie’s. He pounded on the bathroom door and demanded his brother come out.

“I’ve got a two-foot-long turd hanging out my nipper, do you want me to shake it about like a tail when I do?” Charlie yelled through the door.

“Those are my boys,” she giggled.

Edward walked over and looked down at his mother. He asked her the same questions about being let out and she had the same answers. He didn’t question my right to do it. He started jerking his dick right in the middle of the kitchen.

“Are you having a wank?”

“Yeah, don’t you flog yourself in the morning?” Edward stood over his mother’s back and clearly intended to jerk off on her. I moved out of the way.

Sophie wandered down the stairs next. She was completely naked as well. It boggled my mind that the family would all wait in the morning in the nude together.

“What do you do in Winter?” I asked as I watched her bang on the bathroom door and get essentially the same answer from her brother. She sighed and turned around and sat on the chair to wait her turn. She thought nothing of her brother whacking off over her mother’s back.

“What do you mean?” Sophie asked me.

“When it’s cold, do you come to the kitchen in the nude?”

“You are very hung up on rules, and clothes,” Sophie said. “Sometimes we sit here with frosty butts and wait for King Shit to leave this throne so that the rest of us can have a crap,” she yelled loud enough for her little brother Charlie to hear her. “Then other times we wear flannel jammies because our bits would freeze off. Why does it have to be one or the other?” she was bewildered that had been my question.

I asked her about her mum being naked.

“Oh yes, she gets a frosty bum, and my brothers dare her to jog outside to keep warm. I thought you meant the rest of us. Mum is an all-weather whore. I guess on really snowy days she wears jackets and pants, but that’s rare in the South, could be twenty days out of the year?”

Sophie’s reactions yesterday started to make more sense in context. She looked bored and uninterested in what was happening. However, that was because seeing her little brother jack off, or her mother flat on her stomach with two dildos sticking out of her, was not that big of a deal to her.

I thought she was sensibly conservative, and she found everything that was happening to be disgusting – and on some level that was true. She just didn’t care enough to insist they stop.

When Charlie left the bathroom, the others complained about the smell. His mother teased him that he probably stopped up the toilet again.

“Then you can reach in the drain and fish it out,” he joked.

Edward went to the bathroom next after spooging on his mother’s back. He left a big white load on her back, and she giggled and thanked him.

“The first time I changed their diapers they pissed right on my face. I guess it was a sign that they’d be spraying me every day since,” she joked.

Sophie sighed and told Edward to hurry, or she was going next. The family seemed to have a hierarchy of sorts. Charlie was some surrogate head of the household, and his mother favored him tremendously.

Edward was next and then Sophie even though she was the oldest. She was the only one who was ever expected to do chores. I asked why. I knew that in some families the women did all of the housework, but my mother made me do chores, and my father took care of some of the household duties as well. Mom did most of the domestic chores though.

Joy told Sophie to tell me.

“The boys can just dare mom to do their chores and she will get down on her knees and scrub whatever they tell her to wash. It became pointless to ask them to do chores because they’d just hand them back to Joy. I don’t give dares, and I don’t take dares. I do my own chores then,” she shrugged.

I didn’t understand why she felt so passionately about that. I would certainly give even my own mother dares to be done with housework but I doubt she would have gone for it. I thought about how absurd the scenario of daring my mum to do anything was the moment it entered my mind. Mom was not the type to take dares and only this family seemed capable of distributing chores this way.

Edward left the bathroom door open to air it out while he used it. No one seemed surprised. Sophie was next. There wasn’t an established pecking order on who could use the bathroom first. The rule was simply whoever woke up first.

The only exception was their mother, who I would soon discover always went last. Charlie had a wank on her face and let the cum drip on her nose. She seemed bright and cheery.

“Want to have a go?” Charlie offered me his mother’s face as a wanking target. I was the only one in pajamas. I wasn’t ready to masturbate openly in front of the Crump family. I turned around and saw that Sophie had left the door to the bathroom open just as Edward had. She was sitting naked on the toilet.

She glared at me when I looked at her but didn’t try to kick the door shut. I wondered if she stood up to use toilet paper or even that was done openly.

Charlie bent over his mother. His dick was still semi-hard even after he shot his load. He smacked his mother’s ass like they were bongo drums and she laughed heartily. “Alright Joy, how do you want to spend a penny this morning?”

Spend a penny was a phrase I hadn’t heard in a while. There used to be penny toilets in Piccadilly Square and that was a euphemism for using them. They had simple stalls right out in the public square back then. They offered very little privacy, and this family might have felt right at home using them.

“I am up for a dare, Charlie, but be careful when you take this dildo out of me bum as I might not be able to hold back a toot or worse.”

Charlie ignored her warning and tugged on her bindings. “I see you couldn’t undo the ropes? You probably thought to cut them, didn’t you?” he mused.

“You heard me tell Timothy not to cut them because we don’t have a lot of rope,” Joy laughed at Charlie’s attempt to sound like he was reading my mind. The walls were paper thin in the flat. I could hear Sophie farting in the bathroom – but I dared not turn around. I did wonder if she made the same frowny faces she did when I talked anytime that she blasted a toot.

“I think I would like to see you go full bog woman and shit like a proper dog,” Charlie said.

“What if we dare Joy to fertilize the hedges out in front of the flat?” Edward suggested.

Joy blushed and seemed amused but reluctant to do either. “There are a lot of people home for the holidays.

Charlie asked me what I would dare his mother to do to relieve herself and said they would let her decide after all. He said he was only joshing about not being able to untie the knots. He was still working on them, and I think that he was having trouble getting them undone.

“Do you ever use the loo?” I motioned to the bathroom behind me.

“When the kids are at school, or if we are busy, but usually my sons like to watch me take a squat. Is that too disgusting, Timothy? You don’t have to give me a dare if you find the idea foul.”

“Like you, I suppose I can only make a dare and you don’t have to agree to it,” I said. I’ve grown up with a lot of the classic repression that many British school boys do. Spanking naughty girls on pantied bottoms is a particularly sexy fetish to me. The other was bare bums and wondering what young ladies look like when they are in the middle of the act of relieving themselves. It is such a vulgar and privately intimate thing that I could think of nothing else more empowering than having a woman share that part of herself with you.

Which was why despite my desire to be polite and aloof I kept turning around discreetly in the hopes that I would see Sophie fold up her toilet paper and show me how she cleaned herself after she finished.

“I dare you to let us tie some of this rope around your neck like a leash and wear only your negligee, gartered stockings, and heels to allow us to walk you to the petrol station. You will squat behind the building into a plastic bag and then tie it up tight. Carry it back home and empty it under your hedges. Only then will you be permitted back inside.”

“No knickers?” her eyes got wide with surprise and delight.

Charlie and Edward, who had been rather devious with their own dares were surprisingly the ones who cautioned about this. “What are we to say if anyone asks why she isn’t wearing knickers?”

I told him that was a strange question since they might ask the same about her negligee, garter, and hose. However, the boys had been daring their mum to walk about in skimpy lingerie for so long that they felt many people – at least on Lagham were rather numb to that.

“Her knickers usually ride up her ass anyway,” I pointed out that we could bring them with us. “She’ll have the black dildo in her ass hanging out like a two-foot-long tail, so I think she can say that the knickers simply won’t fit,” I smiled wickedly.

Charlie and Edward looked at each other as if silently deciding whether to support my dare. “I think I know what Joy will pick,” Charlie said.

“Oh Aye, all three of you holding on to a leash? I’ll pick that.”

“Can she also wear her panties on her head?” Edward asked me rather than Charlie or his mother. I didn’t ask Joy if she was willing. I chalked it up to the “shorthand”. She could have refused.

We quickly threw on our clothes while their mother got dressed. She left the big black dildo hanging out of her dirty asshole but had to take the purple dildo out. She kicked it and licked it.

“May I at least wash the cum off my back and face?” she asked, but she knew the answer would be no.

It didn’t take us long to change. It was a simple matter to tie a rope around Joy’s neck and lead her out the door like cattle. As we left, Sophie told us we’d probably be going too far even for Godstone’s laid-back attitude.

It was still early in the morning, but we were walking up to Station Road which was the main road in South Godstone. People were getting ready to go on Holiday or go to work, but most neighbors had seen my aunt before and weren’t entirely shocked. A few realized that her pussy was visible because it was so hairy.

“If you shaved that bald you could probably rub shoe polish on your cunt, and no one would know you were naked until they got close enough to see that you weren’t wearing knickers.”

“Are you daring me to shave my minge?” she grinned and winked.

We had slid the black dildo out of her ass until only about six inches of the nearly two-foot dildo was up her bum. The rest hung down like a dirty tail swinging between her legs.

We got to the Shell and there were two cars refilling. One person yelled at my aunt and the other grinned. My Aunt apologized but he didn’t seem inclined to hear it.

“I am feeling thirsty, who wants a Fizzy Vimto?” I offered to purchase a soft drink for my cousins. They were happy to take me up on the offer, but a little nervous that we might get banned from the Shell. The Shell was the only “general” store in walking distance and very convenient for the family.

They had to take a bus to larger towns to grocery shop.

There was a different cashier than the previous night. He recognized Joy immediately as the local fruitcake. He wasn’t surprised she had a rope around her neck or a negligee.

“Gods woman, have you no knickers? We’ve permitted you in here because technically you are legally covered, but you can’t come in here with your hairy minge like that.”

“I am sorry Gary, I’ll shave it off,” she said.

“You know what I mean, and what is that in your bum?”

“She got it stuck up there, and we need some lotion,” I lied.

“It won’t come out?” he seemed concerned. Charlie pretended to yank on the butt plug but didn’t let it flop out. If it had, that would have made us all liars. My Aunt shook her head that it was packed up her ass.

“if it was anyone else, Joy I would call the constable,” he groaned and chided her. Then he let us buy the lotion and the raspberry soda we came in for. My cousins laughed their butts off as we left the store.

You might wonder how we could walk down a residential street without the police arriving to investigate. The town was so small that the nearest constable was quite far away. The small-town police force had heard many complaints over the years about local slut Joy Crump, and they wouldn’t just jump in the car and drive out there for every one of them. They probably assumed that anyone that called about Joy was probably exaggerating as they had heard some crazy stories over the years – however, this one like many of them was true.

We took Joy behind the gas station, had her shit and piss in a bag and then fuck that dildo back up her ass before walking home on a leash. Then we made her dump her crap and spread it out in front of the hedges before going back inside.

“Oh my god, I think I am going to pass out,” Joy’s heart was racing, and she told us she was so horny. I truly felt that this was one of the highlights of the many wild dares she’d ever done at this point in her life.

My cousins saw me as one of them and I saw myself as a member of the Crump family. She asked to be allowed to masturbate in the living room because she was so close to an orgasm.

“Oh, I wish but you see Joy, I don’t want you to do that. I want you to build up and build up that desire and get so horny that you would explode,” I told her as I touched her tits for the first time. My Aunt’s nipples were extremely hard, fat, and nubby. She was so horny that afternoon that she stumbled about. We made her keep that dildo up her ass until well close to dinner.

That day Sophie took the bus to Godstone and spent some time walking around downtown by herself. We spent the day playing with and teasing Joy. I felt a little guilty for keeping her in a constant state of horniness, but she truly seemed to love it. Her nipples never got soft.

She shaved her hairy pussy and her ass crack for us while we watched in the living room. The baldness of her pussy made it look even fatter and made it easier to look deep inside her.

That evening at Supper, I dared her to lick mashers off the floor while we pushed French fries into her butt and hand-fed them to her. I had no idea quite how debauched things could get that day.

At supper, I asked, “Before I spent the holiday here with you, Joy sat at the table for supper?”

“Most of the time, yeah,” they answered. They said that at least two or three nights a week they made her eat off the floor or threw food and made her pick It up with her mouth – teased her as she ate.

“I have another dare for you, Joy!”

“Caw, another? You’ve given me more today than I’ve had all week before you arrived,” she seemed willing, but a bit torn down and exhausted.

“I dare you to not to sit on any chair or couch in this flat again, and every supper to assume you’ll eat naked with heels off the floor unless you are told otherwise.”

That dare didn’t even phase Joy because she thought I meant for today or the duration of my stay. I said “No, every meal, always – even when your sons are at school,” I said. “You’ll be a piggy-slag whore, who is fed like a piggy-maybe out of the trough.”

I thought she’d jump at it, but she didn’t. I saw a small tear roll down her cheek. I felt confused because she had accepted the most degrading things I could think of. I had called her other nasty things, but they were all derivatives of things she had said about herself.

The others seem puzzled by her reaction as well and they stopped smiling.

“I am sorry,” she apologized for crying. It seemed we had pushed her way too hard today and she had become over stimulated. However, there was something else bothering her. “I am not debating I am a piggy slag, but if Sophie were to bring home a boy, or Charlie and Edward to invite a girl over then They’d have to explain their bonkers mum. If I were to start dating someone, we couldn’t have a normal meal. If your mum and dad were to visit, I’d have to explain how you spent the summer here while I snort around with a turnip up my ass,” she said.

When she said it like that, I felt bad for daring her. I wasn’t thinking about those scenarios. I apologized and withdrew the dare.

“Don’t apologize. The problem is that I’d like to say yes, which is selfish of me. It’s fun. A lot of times during the day when my boys are at school, I put on my house frock and sit at the park near the chapel and feed pigeons like an old maid. I do shop and all the mundane things, but your dare would mean I could never even sit on my own couch and invite over a neighbor for tea without stripping down.”

“Can I think about it?” she asked.

“I’d rather we take that one back,” I offered politely. She told me it was too late it was already bouncing around in her bimbo brain.

That evening I went upstairs naked and laid down on the bed.

“Good going with mom,” Sophie said when she came in and flung herself on the bed. She started playing with herself without hesitation. I didn’t understand if she was being sarcastic at first, but she explained. “I think you pushed her so hard today and got her head so full of naughty thoughts that she started to have second thoughts about being the town whore.”

“That wasn’t my intention.”
I enjoy writing stories that I would love to read. If you read my stories and enjoy them, the best way you could reward me is to write something along the same themes and genre.
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Chapter 6

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A few days passed until we fell into a more livable rhythm. I began walking around the house even after breakfast fully naked. Yes, I jerked off and even fed my cum to my Aunt. She loved to eat cum and hated to see it go to waste.

She is a huge fan of another British slag mum named Tracy Kiss. She’s a big Instagram and Twitter star and does an Only fans. She eats cum for nutritional purposes and does videos about how to freeze and store it to eat later. She puts it on her skin and she’s raising a daughter and a son around Sophie and Charlie’s age. Tracy also looks like the typical blow-up bimbo doll and Joy looks like a frumpy housewife with huge knockers and a massive ass.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3RolyOu82I8
If you are curious – this is a silly video of her working out. (nothing X-rated about this video)
I discovered that Joy had several regular neighbors that popped over for a quickie. Many of them were married and their wives had no idea. We didn’t have to dare her to do anything. She’d answer the door and invite them upstairs, shag them and walk them back to the door. It was never anything we watched – although we certainly heard them banging around upstairs.

Every meal she ate either outside or off the floor inside. Every time she got permission to use the bathroom she shit outside or pissed in a bowl. Charlie dared her to drink a glass of his piss and she did that as well – but she nearly choked and gagged.

Every day she got horny but we gave her a little time to sluff herself off with her toys like a release valve.

We let her sleep in her bed at night, but sometimes we made her stand in the window of her flat and face the road completely naked all afternoon.

I discovered that spreading out the dares and keeping them small made the time pass and didn’t lead to such intense emotional feelings. The adrenalin was very high on dares that were very risky. I did a lot of smaller lower risk dares instead of a lot of longer high-risk ones.

As an example, instead of walking to the Shell station in broad daylight with a dildo dangling from her asshole, we made her run the length of South Godstone with the tail up her ass at night. Any time she dropped it she licked it clean and fucked it right back in place.

My cousins and I took her on the bus to the grocers. That was good fun, daring her to flash and proposition gentleman as we made our way to the store. I bought a 10-pack of hot dogs and filled her asshole and cunt with them and watched her walk around the store until all 10 had dropped.

I won’t describe every dare because at some point they became a bit repetitive. I thought very little of sticking a finger in one of her holes, or even pinching her tit or clit. I came very close to stuffing my dick down her throat once or twice. Joy was a consummate cock sucker, and she could swallow a dildo so far down her throat that she could have taken a job as a performing sword swallower.

Every night I would text my parents and they sent pictures of waving on sunny beaches and I would think how funny it was that I felt I was having a better time in South Godstone than they were in Malaga. They did look quite happy though. My mom got an amazing tan and so did my father.

A week went by, and two weeks went by, and soon I would be returning to my boring life in Fulham, and I really didn’t want to. I enjoyed playing with Joy like a toy. Charlie and Andrew were fair about sharing her and we cooperated on most dares to maximize how much we teased their mother together.

One day they invited a man to date their mother that answered one of the personal ads that they had. He owned a farm in Crockton Hill. It’s a small town not too far away from us. He was an unassuming guy, single and not all that talkative. His name was Gerald, and he didn’t know what he was getting himself into with Joy. Charlie, Andrew, and I had discussed the most entertaining way this would go down.

The man knew that their mom was a sure thing (sexually), but nothing about her dares or wild side.

She didn’t either because her sons didn’t tell her he was coming by. Gerald knocked on the door right on time. He was wearing his best shirt and pair of jeans. He knocked on the door.

“Why don’t you answer Joy?” Charlie said.

Joy was wearing a negligee, garters, and stockings and had a feather duster in her ass. She had spent the better of the day wiggling her big bum on things ‘dusting’ and shaking her tail feathers for us. We had just made her squat outside and quack like a duck in front of the neighbor Mr. Langford.

She was just waddling back inside when we heard the knock.

“I dare you to answer the door,” I said. We knew she would.
She snickered. “May I at least stand up?”

She loved answering the door in the nude for delivery men and the few neighbors that knocked on the door. I gave her permission to walk to the door.
The man looked down at her and asked “Joy Crump?”

She wasn’t wearing knickers, and as I mentioned she had the feather duster sticking out of her ass. She smiled and blushed. Joy liked the attention and loved answering the door and shocking total strangers.

“Yes?” she opened the door. Her negligee covered her tits, but her pussy was quite visible.

“Is that how you want to go out tonight?” he asked. He looked down at her crotch and clearly thought he was being put on.

She looked over her shoulder knowingly at us, with a smirk, and then turned back to him. “My sons set this date up?”

“Yes, but they told me you knew I’d be coming. Do you not want to go out?”

“My deal with my sons was that I didn’t want to do the chit-chat back and forth and that I’d go out with whoever they thought was a good fit. Do you mind coming in while I change? I apologize for how I look,” she said.

Gerald was a tall man, about 6’8, with a black bushy beard. His ancestor was probably a Viking raider that planted his DNA in some local Surrey girls back in the Middle Ages. He was surprised to see me and her sons giggling at the table while Joy was naked.

Joy mouthed the words “bastards!” to us once her back was turned and blushed. She was capable of embarrassment and humiliation; she just processed it a lot differently than most. I could tell she thought the scenario was funny though.

“You walk around naked in front of your sons?” he asked. He sounded like he was going to be easily offended. The guys told me that their mom only went on a few actual dates.
“It’s a small flat and privacy is at a minimum here,” Joy told him the same thing she told me when I first followed her home from the train. “I do spend a lot of time naked in my own home,” she said as if it was no big deal because to the Crumps it wasn’t. “I’ll be honest with you,” she asked him his name again and he told her it was Gerald. “I know you probably drove a long way and I am probably not what you expected. My sons dared me to put this on before you got here but they didn’t tell me you were coming. If you still want to go out, I’m happy to change.”

“They dared you to put that feather duster in your ass?”

She had forgotten in the moment. She reached behind her and touched the feathers. There was no hiding it now. It wasn’t the first time she had opened the door with something up her ass. However, even she was deeply humiliated and without words.

“It gets INCREDIBLY dull in South Godstone,” I said. “We did dare Joy and she was a good sport about it. We should have warned her before she answered the door,” I said.

“Your ad said you only had two sons?” Gerald seemed like he was getting ready to bolt for the door.

“This is my nephew, Timothy. He’s my sister’s boy from Fulham. He’s just here for the Holiday, this is Charlie and Edward my son and Sophie my daughter is upstairs.”

“This has got to be some hidden camera show?” he said. The guys told me that at least two other men said the same thing on meeting their mother under similar circumstances. When I suggested she meet them for a normal date they said they didn’t expect their mom to find love this way anyway and it was just a pastime. They didn’t feel guilty about wasting anyone’s time either because if the man wanted one, he was at least going to get a blowjob before he went home.

As the advertisement read- she was a sure thing.

“You could see it as the dating show naked attraction,” Joy offered a comparison that he got to see her naked before taking her on a date. “Even if you don’t like me, I am happy to shag you before you go.”

“Who says I do not like you?” Gerald was clearly flummoxed just as I was when I learned about her dares. He didn’t talk as much as I did, so he didn’t have as many questions, but he had a few. “Can I ask did they just dare you to put the feather duster up your ass or do anything else with it?”

Joy shook her ass over the table to demonstrate “It’s dusting day, so I dusted the whole house down and we’ve just come back from the garden where I quacked like a duck for the neighbor and flapped my wings. I know it sounds far-fetched,” she was grinning.

The bearded man looked very serious. I thought he was going to tell us we were all going to burn in hell for wicked perversions. “It’s not far-fetched because the feather duster is right there. So will you quack like a duck?”

“Do you dare me?”

“Yeah”

She smiled and squatted down low, spreading her legs, flapped her arms like a duck, and then began to make quacking noises. She stomped her feet despite crouching low to the ground and began to march around the room.

Gerald didn’t smile or laugh but even though we’d seen it before – we did.

Sophie chose that moment to make her entrance. I rarely saw her naked outside of the morning or very late at night. She walked downstairs completely naked and nodded at Gerald to acknowledge him. Then she went into the bathroom, sat on the toilet and left the door open.

“That’s mah’ daughter Sophie,” Joy said with pride.

“Do they dare her as well?” Gerald asked.

Sophie answered for herself, “I don’t do dares, and I don’t give dares.”
He apologized to Sophie and then asked my aunt if she would rather just get her coat and go as she was.

“Where are we going?”

“Fox and Hound,” he said. It was a tavern that my aunt had been to many times, and it was just around the corner.

“May I take the feather duster out of my ass at least?” she asked him.

“No,” he said decisively. That was it for my aunt. She grabbed her coat, kissed us all goodbye, and got in a truck with a total stranger.

The story as told to me was that once they got to the Fox and Hound many of the local pub regulars confirmed her reputation. They walked up to greet her, and he dared her to flash them.

The pub has been around since 1601 and is moderately priced. It serves food but most people come there to drink. There was live entertainment there that night. She got a little tipsy and by the end of the night was completely naked except for the feather duster and the coat.

Towards the end of the night, Gerald poured several pints of beer over her head and took her out back. He wasn’t rough, but he wasn’t happy either. He took the coat and the feather duster and then fucked her behind a dumpster.

My Aunt slept there until morning and then had to streak home more than 2 kilometers dashing behind mailboxes, rocks and walls. Her hair was a mess, she had strange bruises and smelled of beer. She lost some of her best lingerie, her coat, and her feather duster.

When she finally got home, she told us all about the night. It sounded terrifying. “A lot of the dares prepared me for this. I shit behind the dumpster without even a second thought. I think if he had tied me up I could have given him some tips on how to do a better job,” she chuckled.

Her sons promised no more dates after that.

“What, why?” she asked.

We looked at her like she truly was barmy.

“That was a lot of fun. Just next time I’ll know not to wear my best coat,” she chuckled. Joy always seemed to look on the bright side.

We didn’t hear from Gerald again, but my aunt said that she’d go out with him again if he was interested.

A few days later another stranger showed up unexpectedly at the door. My Aunt was kneeling in the living room sucking a fat dildo that could be suction cupped to the wall. She had clothes pins on her nipples, clit and even one on her nipper.

“Let me guess? Another date?” she asked as she headed for the door. We told her that this wasn’t something we planned. “Then I guess I don’t have to beg to hide my clothespins?” she chuckled as she opened the door.

It could have been the local vicar, it could have been the constabulary, it could have been anyone at the door.

It was Colin Crump – her ex-husband. The one person that Joy really didn’t expect to see.

“Hello Colin,” my notoriously chipper Aunt became morose. She leaned up against the door and reminded him his support check was late.

“It’s good to see you as well,” Colin asked if he could come in. My cousins were surprised to see their father. Charlie bragged about his dad all of the time. Colin was apparently smart, funny, liked the best things, and had life figured out.

The man I saw at the door was a loutish, out-of-shape man who seemed rather underwhelming.

Charlie called out a greeting to his father. Edward did as well. Sophie was in her house coat, and she didn’t say anything. She continued doing dishes.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

I didn’t know what happened between them, but he wasn’t surprised to see his wife with clothes pins on her nipples and clit. They had only been separated and were still married. She invited him.

“Are you here for a shag? I am happy to oblige if that’s what this is about,” she said.

“I am here for more than a shag,” he said. She invited him into the flat as if it was perfectly normal to welcome someone into your flat while completely naked.

“You’ve really progressed since I last saw you,” he said.

“I am still the same tubby pig-face, Colin,” she admitted. She pointed to her tits and said that they were the same the last time he was here. He accepted that. She added “It’s been two years since your last visit. I am curious what brings you slumming down on Lagham. Aren’t you with somebody new?”

“I broke up with her,” Colin admitted. He made it sound like he did it for Joy but none of us really believed him and he didn’t explicitly say that. He just implied that Joy was who he really wanted – or should I say, Joanne. It became obvious to me what had happened. Joy was struggling with living as his ideal version of her as Joanne for him – the perfectly ordinary housewife that he wanted her to be and that wasn’t her.
Sophie muttered under her breath that it was more likely the woman broke up with him.

“I was thinking that I’d like to spend more time with my kids before they are grown and give us another chance?” he said. I felt like we should leave and give them some alone time. Joy waved us to sit back down and said that this would likely not take long.

“I don’t understand why you’d want to get back with a slapper like me? You want me to be a boring housewife like my sister,” she said. She turned to me and said ‘no offense’.

“You were more than a boring housewife, Joanne,” he said. I read between the lines as the discussion grew heated. It seems she would shake her tits around the house and dance about like a loon for him and the boys anytime they dared her too. She would get starkers out in the garden and pull weeds. They had a much bigger garden then and apparently neighbors who weren’t quite as tolerant as Mr. Langford.
Her husband even mentioned her standing on one leg trying to balance herself while she ate porridge out of his hands at the kitchen table and not fall face-first into it. “It was good fun Joanne, but just as a joke.”

“It’s still a bit of fun, and I don’t see why I’d have to stop if we’re still amused by it,” Joy reasoned.

“It was all good fun, but some fun has to come to an end. The boys are older now and you are daring even more – much more.”

“Yeah, they’ve seen me fall face first in my porridge and it still makes them laugh, but what’s the harm if they dare me to attach a wooden clothespin to my nipples and cunny? So, I dance around and scream like I am bonkers. They know I am mad, and they love me anyway,” she hugged her sons and they hugged her back. Charlie seemed conflicted and aloof because as much as he loved his dad, he also loved his mum.
How Colin described his version of events was that he was the adoring husband that tolerated his wife’s extroverted games, but only just. He was only trying to make her happy by giving her dares.

How I read into her husband’s version of events was that he egged her on when it suited him, and enjoyed having a wife that would do just about anything he dared her to do but he got jealous that she was giving more attention to the boys than him. It sounded like he only became really concerned after his parents found out and didn’t approve of her slutty behavior. Joy laughed and said that if they have a problem with her behavior then it is THEIR problem and not hers.

“Joanne, you were fucking our sons,” Colin got angry and called her out.

Joy laughed at his accusation as if it was the most absurd thing, she had ever heard but that she expected to hear it from Colin. She had been accused of this before and a lot of people thought that happened. I knew from experience that the boys never dared her to blow them or fuck them. They’d dare almost anything else leading up to it.

She usually didn’t care what people thought because she knew the truth of it. “My sons dare me to do naughty things and they can watch me do them! There is a line I won’t cross though, Colin. You know that”

“That line has gotten really blurred, Joanne! You’ve definitely progressed since I last saw you,” he indicated the clothes pins she was wearing. “I heard you’ve been running the village with a 2-foot rubber dildo hanging out of your cunny!”

“My boys know I use sex toys, they bought them for me! Yeah, I like flashing and streaking now and again. We don’t shag though. They don’t dare me to and I wouldn’t accept a dare! Yeah, I let my boys tie me up sometimes. I trust them better than I would a stranger.”

She didn’t mention that they had progressed to mutual masturbation, using toys on her, spanking, tickling, and the fact she often licked their spent jizz after they shot it on her body. I did respect the fact she drew the line at penetration though.

“I know now that isn’t who you are. We could have an open marriage and you could fuck anyone you like,” he said. He stipulated though “within reason”. He said that he would compromise with her. The dares and the naughty games would have to stop, and she would move in with him, and they would be a family again.

A small tear ran down Joy’s cheek as she listened to him tell her what she would not do. “You won’t get tied up in the woods or masturbate around my sons and Sophie. It’s not right and you should be ashamed of yourself. “I know you enjoy dares. I am daring you to be a good wife and mum.”

Sophie didn’t want to hear anymore, and she left to go upstairs.

As the discussion continued, Joy began to remove the clothespins and set them aside. She put on a pot of coffee and a house frock. She had worn it the day I arrived, but she hadn’t put it on since then. It was just something to throw on quickly, so it didn’t seem absurd to talk about getting back with him while sitting there naked.

Joy talked to Colin seriously about what he expected. She’d pretty much go back to how things were in their marriage before they separated. The dares apparently started before they separated and those would end as well. She would get a regular job as a cashier or waitress and that was to help keep her mind off of dirty, more perverted thoughts.

Joy asked Charlie and Edward what they wanted to do. Just as with her dares, they ultimately believed that she would need to decide this for herself. Charlie wanted his parents back together and while he didn’t come right out and say that it might cost her the happiness and sexual freedom that she was enjoying.

Colin was about to leave and let Joy have some time to talk to her kids and think about what he was offering her.

It was a sobering moment in a string of wild encounters. I know it sounds a bit serious and I am sorry about that. I could have skipped this night in Joy’s story because I didn’t like seeing her unhappy, torn, and conflicted.

There was something Colin didn’t tell her until he was about to leave. His parents wanted him to get back together with his wife so that they could have their grandkids back in their lives (and will). They wanted her to be a proper wife and not behave scandalously. He had “talked” them into allowing her to have some flings and tawdry encounters.

In exchange, they would help him buy a large house in Surrey and send the kids to a better school. However, that help was contingent upon Joy becoming Joanne Crump.

I recognized the new information for what it was. Colin didn’t love or want her. He wanted the idea of her as Joanne Crump back and his parents’ approval and the house that went along with it. He’d apparently lost the house, tanked his credit, and been floating around from job to job since the separation.

I think Joy knew this as well and yet, she seemed to be ready to make a decision and move forward with it even though Colin told her to take her time. “It’s been five years, I don’t need any more time to know that I made a mistake,” she sniffled as she resigned herself to going back to what life was like before.

Sophie came walking down the stairs. She often walked around naked, and I wouldn’t have been shocked if she had. However, she had taken off her glasses and was wearing a bra and panties, with a pair of her mum's stockings and heels. She looked rather like an Eastender chav.

We were all confused as she joined us and stood there. “You can get back with Dad if you like and that’s your choice and I’ll live with you. I am doing dares now though, and if Charlie and Edward won’t give me any I’ll find some boys who will.”

An emotional Joy offered a wintry smile to her daughter. “That’s always been your choice, Sophie. I’ve never had a problem with you not doing dares or giving dares. I am a strange duck. I like doing dares, you don’t – so don’t feel you need to do them to support me.”

“You won’t be doing or giving dares,” Colin announced. “We are going to be a normal family with a nice house. I understand you are upset that things are changing, and you are doing this as a last-minute effort to keep your mom how she is.”

“Yeah, how Joy wants to be, how’s she been happier than I’ve ever seen,” Sophie defended her mum passionately. “I’ve been the stick in the mud here wishing she would go back to Joanne Crump the boring mom that packs picnic baskets instead of packs her ass. If you had come around last year or the year before with this, I would have been your biggest cheerleader.”

Colin tried to cut her off and say that she didn’t really understand. “You call her Mum. Her name isn’t Joy. It’s Joanne Crump. It’s very disrespectful to call her Joy. In life, sometimes you have to compromise and do things you don’t want to do. Now put your clothes back on, and we can discuss this another night. We are all a bit emotional now,” Colin offered. “There is a lot riding on this, and my parent's offer is not negotiable.”

“It’s disrespectful to try to make Joy be something she is not. She is my mum, and she answers to that, and she answers to piggy whore, Joy, Slag Mum, Slapper, and tubby slut. That’s who she is and who she was trying to deny she was for years for us. My brothers embraced her as she really is. Even my cousin has embraced her for who she is. I’ve been the pissy one scowling in the corner and wishing she’d be what I want her to be. “

“Sophie, may I say something?” Joy offered politely. “I am flattered by what you are saying, and I love that you mean it. What don’t I understand is why tonight of all nights would you come down here and tell us you want to do dares? It just seems hasty, and I don’t want you to make the same mistake I made in reverse – trying to be me instead of you.”

Sophie looked genuinely amused and pleased. “I’ve been trying to get up the courage to do dares. The other day when Gerald came here, I intentionally stripped and walked downstairs. I took a piss with the door wide open and let him watch me. I’ve been masturbating downstairs and in front of my cousin non-stop. I told him that he could wank in front of me, and that it would be rude if he beat off on me, but I didn’t tell him he couldn’t. “

Sophie admitted to us that two weeks earlier when she took the bus to walk-around Godstone and shop she really went and turned three tricks. She produced her phone and showed us her ad, and the Venmo payments of 80 quid each. “I gave them head and let them fuck me. I didn’t want to do guys in South Godstone because they’d recognize me. I liked it, but I was really afraid. I thought I’d eventually talk to you about it.”

Joy didn’t quite know what to say to her daughter. She was a bit overwhelmed and taken aback. She still seemed skeptical. She knew Sophie’s heart was in the right place, but she was unsure if this was what Sophie really wanted to do.


“Then tonight, Dad started talking about putting aside who you want to be and being what everyone else wants and I realized that I should find out who I am first before I decide. I don’t want to be just like you, Joy. I want to be just like me. The problem is I thought I knew who Sophie Crump was supposed to be and I think I prefer a different Sophie – one who is similar to you – just not EXACTLY, no offense, mum. I’d like to start doing dares and giving dares, but I don’t have anyone to give dares to, so I’ll just take 'em and see how that goes.”

“Yes, you do! You can give dares to your dear old mum!”

Colin was incensed. He looked to Charlie for support. Charlie was angry – this wasn’t what he expected at all.
I enjoy writing stories that I would love to read. If you read my stories and enjoy them, the best way you could reward me is to write something along the same themes and genre.
All of my stories: https://storiesonline.net/a/eddie-davidson
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Chapter 7 (Final Chapter)

Post by EddieDavidson »

“Dad, you are a right proper bastard. Please fuck off and never come back,” It was Charlie who finally spoke up.

Colin left angry and threatened to take Joy to court to get the kids.

“You can’t handle them on your own, but by the time you do get me to court they’ll be old enough to live where they want,” Joy said.

Charlie took down his father’s old posters in his room that night. We were all very emotionally drained and we didn’t talk much about Colin’s visit. There was a lot of hugging and even a little laughing as we tried to process what had just happened.

It didn’t feel ‘over’ and none of us were truly sure if Sophie really wanted to take dares. We didn’t give her any and she didn’t bring it up after her dad left.

However, the next morning I saw Sophie sweetly sleeping in the nude on her cot. I got up and had a wank on her face. The cum splattered on her nose. At first, she awoke in shock, and then she rolled back to her side.

“Very rude, Timothy,” she rolled over and let the cum drip down her face onto her sheet. I saw a little smirk on her face. “Just because I am willing to take dares now, doesn’t mean that you can remove the hinges on the door and wank on me all the time! At least wake me up and give me a little warning,” she pouted playfully.

That morning when I went downstairs, Joy was making breakfast, frying up some sausages with beans.

“Joy, I dare you to put that spatula in your ass and turn the sausages with your fat fingers,” Sophie offered her first dare to her mum.

“Oh, that’s going to hurt, dear,” she began to insert the spatula in her rectum as she used her other hand to quickly grab the sausages and flip them on the pan. “I suppose you won’t be doing any more chores?”

“I don’t know, it depends on whether anyone dares me to, but I would plan on doing them all from now on unless I join you,” Sophie said.

“And you are sure you want to do dares?” Joy asked as confirmation.

“Anyone can ask me, I can always tell them no,” Sophie grinned.

“You can tell them to get fucked if you want, Dear. How do you want your sausage? Burnt or extra-burnt?” Joy joked as she tried desperately not to singe her own finger while managing the cooking.

“She wants her sausage stuffed down her pie-hole, in her cunny, and up her ass where it belongs,” Charlie walked down the stairs in a surly mood. His cock was swinging like he was King of the Flat now that his mom and Sophie were both taking dares. “Now shave that hairy bush so we can finally have a better look at that swollen gash of yours.”

“Nah,” Sophie snickered.

“I knew it,” Charlie approached them in the kitchen and confronted his sister. Edward was following close behind. Everyone in the flat was starkers except for Joy who liked to wear high heels even when she was naked. “You said that you would do dares to drive our father mad, and the first one you get you would say no. You are nothing but a lemon-faced, sour-cunt!”

“I am a lemon-faced, sour cunt, and I did you a favor driving away that selfish loon. If he’d make me and mum be something we don’t want to be then he’d make you and Edward be someone you do not want to be either. I want to be a proper lemon faced sour cunt. Now, if you are going to dare me to do something then do it right. Don’t come down here shouting orders at me like you’ve sole claim on THIS cunny,” she pointed at her hairy beaver. “We share this flat, all of us!”

Sophie’s eyes were brimming with anger and Charlie backed down and told her he was only having a bit of fun.

“Right, I am not finished,” Sophie held up a finger. Joy seemed perplexed by Sophie’s outburst. Joy normally liked things to be drama free but this wasn’t the first time the kids had argued since I’ve been here and she knew they had some things still to work out about their father, so she didn’t intervene.

Charlie was taken aback enough that he shut his mouth and let Sophie continue.

“No more cutting me off in mid-sentence. As I was saying, this is our flat and everything in it is ours equally. My cunt is in this flat, and that means it belongs to me, you, mum, Edward and Timothy while he is living here. Got it? So, before you tell me to shave it you had better find out if Edward and Timothy are fine with it, because I am not going to whack off my shaggy muff, only to find out Timothy wanted me with a mohawk and Timothy liked the natural look. Got it?” she was half-smirking as she pointed her finger in her brother’s face to indicate she was just having a laugh.

Charlie smacked her bottom playfully and nodded.

“Another thing, and this one I am serious about,” Sophie turned to him and told him that she gave dares. “So, I am giving you a dare to put me over your knee and give me a proper spanking, and NO ripping a stinky in my face unless you can make me cry.”

This was a new wrinkle to Charlie and Edward. Their mom clearly liked to perform dares for other people. It made her happy to amuse others. She could have done these outrageous things herself but something about doing dares for her sons and anyone else who asked made her happy. Sophie wanted to give dares too.

Edward and I took turns having our morning wank on the spatula inserted in Joy’s fat ass while she wiggled her ass and presented it as a target. We shot most of our load on her butt cheeks while she manually turned the sausages she was preparing for our breakfast.

Charlie put his sister over his knee and gave her a nice hard spanking on the bottom. I don’t know if his hand was redder, or her ass was by the time he finished. He didn’t make Sophie cry though.

The boys usually slapped their mother’s butt – sometimes hard but they never ‘spanked’ her as far as I knew. They had never given their mother an over-the-knee spanking. I don’t think it ever came up before, but also, she was a bit too chubby to balance on our laps.

That changed that afternoon because as soon as Joy finished breakfast. We dared her to lick the icing we glazed her butt cheeks and the spatula with, and Edward had a go at spanking his mother’s ass in the kitchen. He ultimately decided it best that she stand and bend over.

“I suppose now that we have four chairs, and two twats in the house that takes dares we’ve got to decide which of you doesn’t get one?” Charlie asked as his mother set the table for us.

“Timothy gave me a proper bitch of a dare the other day,” Joy spoke as casually as someone talking about a bitter storm or current events. “It was to take my meals off the floor from now on regardless of how many chairs are available. I’ve decided to accept it,” she said politely as she placed the rolls on the table.

“Lucky cunt, you can sit in your old chair,” Charlie snickered at Sophie that she just dodged a bullet, before daring her to eat in the nude at the table without any silverware.

“You’re the only wanker who hasn’t pulled his pud yet, so I dare you to give me a proper gob of jizz right in me beans,” Sophie fired back.

It went like that between them all morning. He’d dare her to do something, and she would dare him to do something to make it even more naughty. She’d also solicit a dare from me and Edward and pick whichever one sounded the most exciting. She wasn’t exactly like Joy – she was Sophie.

The story could end here on a happy note. Sophie and Joy weren’t the old slutty mum and daughter in Britain and hardly the most well-known. The ones who were had spots on reality TV and made money on Instagram and Only fans.

We did have fun that summer – a lot of fun. We never took the hinges off of Sophie’s door. Instead, they moved her into her mother’s rooms. The girls shared the master bedroom and Joy’s rule about not shagging her sons didn’t extend to not going down on her daughter. We dared the girls to eat each other’s asses and cunts the way that we ate breakfast, dinner, and supper.

Sophie’s first time in the downstairs bedroom wasn’t everything she hoped for. It happened about a week after she started taking dares. Sleeping in a tiny closet under the stairs may sound exciting but it was cramped, dark and covered in dusty cobwebs. She had dared us to make her do it and I was pretty sure that was enough to satisfy her curiosity- especially after we left her flopping like a fish tied up on the kitchen floor with her bald gash shaved and crammed full of as many Playmobil medieval men as we could fit. She dared us to fit five and we only managed three if you count the standard bearer’s flag as an extra person.

We kept the pacing of the dares about where it was when it was only Joy doing them. However, with the inclusion of Sophie, she often dared us to make her, and her mum do naughty things or dared her mum to do dirty things to her and that kept us rather busy.

At first, Sophie had a bit of a challenge adjusting to going out in public in a bra and panties – even with a sweater and sneakers. However, she soon warmed up to the idea. It seemed that she had been paying attention to the dares her mother had been doing and once she got in on it – she was just as fearless as Joy. The two frequently took bike rides around the neighborhood and when they got back told us to give consequences to whoever lost.

(It was always Joy).

Things can’t stay the same forever, but those first few weeks of the summer were some of the most memorable of my life. I lost interest in reading about how exciting it was for my parents to be in Spain without me.

My family was a proper family in a proper middle-class English neighborhood. We had everything we needed and enough money for a decent life, but I would have given it all up to remain a Crump after a month with them.
The story of my Summer Holiday has ended, but as I say though, things did not stay the same. If you are really interested, then read on.

THE RETURN OF GERALD

Sophie’s inclusion added a new exciting dynamic to the dares her mother performed for us. We forget about Joy’s dating profiles because we simply got distracted.

We’d also completely forgotten all about Gerald. He was the last one to date Joy and it didn’t go so well for her but after the experience, she was mostly sore about losing her best jacket and thought it had been a bit of fun despite getting left naked behind a dumpster. It was a bit of a shock at first when he popped around the flat. None of us expected he’d have the nerve to show his face again.

It was about Teatime on a Sunday. There was a spot of rain but otherwise, it was an average day. Joy had just put a kettle. We were debating what would be the most humiliating dare for her and her daughter to do while they enjoyed their afternoon tea.
We had almost settled on Joy and Squatting together with their nips and lips touching out in the garden as if they are kissing. They would be dared to hold each other by the arms and squat down low. They’d both have dildos jammed up their ass that they could rest their weight on if they wanted but otherwise the squatting position would be grueling for them.

They would be handcuffed so that they couldn’t use their hands to help them keep balance and just because it was fun to watch them be handcuffed and completely unable to stop us from pinching them while they were vulnerable.
We were planning to pour tea in their mouths and have them kiss it back and forth until Mr. Langford asked them a question – only then would one of them be allowed to swallow.

We weren’t going to tell Mr. Langford that they could only swallow once he talked to them. We thought it would be fun to see if he would figure it out.

When the knock at the door came, the girls were naked, and they both had dildos up their ass. It would have been nice if they were matching colors and width. Joy’s was a bit bigger and stretched her asshole very wide at the base. Sophie had a latex dildo sticking out of her shitter. I believe it was indigo in color – about 9 inches long and only four inches was packed up her ass.

It was always Joy who’d be dared to answer the door naked until recently. We rarely got visitors and since Sophie hadn’t had many opportunities to be humiliated in front of the neighbors or a random delivery guy, we dared her to answer.

She frowned a little, but we knew she thought opening the door wide with her tits popping out would be fun. Sophie liked to frown and look bitchy doing dares the same way that her mother liked to giggle and act like a brainless bimbo doing dares.

“Good afternoon,” she said as she opened the door before, she realized it was Gerald. There he was – standing like a mountain in the doorway. The last time he had come to our flat he was dressed in his best. Today, Gerald wore a flannel and some work jeans.

“What do you want?” Sophie asked with a piercing stare.

“Sorry to come around teatime,” he said. He didn’t seem surprised that Sophie was naked at all. The last time he had met her she was as well. “Is your mum home?”

“You have some nerve,” Sophie gave him a piece of her mind.

Gerald accepted that and looked apologetic. “I know, and after what happened at the pub, I am not coming for a second chance with your mum.”

The flat was small enough that all of us heard the conversation and saw Gerald in the doorway. “If you’ve come for a shag that’s fine, but wipe your feet please,” Joy said adding “and mind your head in the doorway. You are much taller than I remember.”

Joy was wary of him, but she seldom held a grudge, and she meant what she said – she’d fuck him if that was all he wanted. He walked past Sophie and looked down at her bum as he passed her. He noticed the cock shaped dildo in her ass.

He was holding a folded bag in his tree-trunk like arms. “I’ve had your coat and negligee dry cleaned. You can’t tell there is beer or semen on it anywhere. I’ve even bought you a replacement pair of knickers and hose.”

“There was probably a bit of cum on there before you took it from me,” Joy chuckled. She was standing just behind Sophie. She thanked him and accepted the coat. “This is unexpected. Thank you. I didn’t wear any knickers on our date, but I can always use a new pair.”

“Aye, and here is a new feather duster. I might have ruined the last one,” Gerald showed her a brand-new feather duster much like the one she had been wearing in her ass when we set her on a date with him.

“Yeah, we did get a bit muddy, didn’t we?” Joy smiled at him. She pointed out that she had a new feather duster now but that another one was welcome. “My daughter can use this one.”

Sophie glared at her mother for being so gracious. Her sons and I were also on edge. We certainly couldn’t have taken this man down even with a bulldozer, but we didn’t trust him. Joy liked it rough, but he abandoned her naked and drunk behind a dumpster. It was a wonder she made it home safely at all.

Sophie stood naked holding the door open as if silently signaling to Gerald that now that he had done his good deed for the day, it was time for him to go. Everyone but Joy seemed to think so as well.

“I know what I did was wrong, and I am not asking for forgiveness. I am also not here to defend my actions. I thought about coming over a thousand times after that night, but I was too big of a coward. I am sorry for that almost as much as I am sorry for what I did.”

Joy accepted his apology without hesitation in a polite and proper British fashion.

“If you will indulge me for a moment, I would like to tell you why I did what I did to you. I think about it every day and it eats me up. I don’t expect you to see my side of things and think what I did was justified but just telling you would make me feel a bit better.”

“Well, by all means, why don’t you join us for tea and have a proper pout about your feelings big man, and tell us all about how you got her drunk, banged me mum until she couldn’t see, choked her, left her in the rain behind a dumpster, filled her ass with cum, and made her walk home 2 kilometers naked and bruised…or did I ruin the story for you?” Sophie spit poison in her words as she said what her brothers and I were thinking but a little too intimidated by his physical stature to say.

“I deserve that, and if the offer to tea was actually valid, I’d submit you for Sainthood. It was more than I could hope for that you even opened your doors. You are fine folks, and I am sorry,” and with that, the big man was about to leave.

I would have left this from the story because it was just one of the dozens of little things that happen on a daily basis around South Godstone that in the grand scheme of things wouldn’t have amounted to much.

“Would you stay for tea? I’d like to hear what you have to say,” Joy asked politely as he was walking out.

The big man stopped. He almost kept walking.

“We can shag after if I like what you have to say,” she promised. Joy’s a horny slut and while the invitation was open to just about anyone who would dare ask – she appreciated his candor and had forgiven him weeks ago. She’d told us she even enjoyed the adventure of trying to get back home.

Sophie groaned “Are you going to have tea the way that Timothy and my brothers wanted? Because if not, I’ll be up in our room having a wank.”

“I think given the circumstances we might want to have a proper tea. What Gerald has to say sounds serious, and he’s probably not interested in our games.”

“Actually, the entire reason I am here is that I thought you were putting me on. I’d be honored if you let me join you however you were going to take tea.”

“We are taking it out on the garden, and the kettle is boiling,” my aunt walked over to the stove to prepare it. “Are you boys up for it? Can we talk when Gerald talks?” she checked with us. I was curious how this would play out. Gerald hadn’t freaked out that Joy and her daughter had been walking around with dildos sticking out between their parted cheeks.

“Splendid,” Gerald nearly banged his head walking outside to the garden with us. “Is this how you take tea every day?” he could very easily see over the fence into the neighbor's small garden areas. Our garden had some potted plants, a row of pasque flowers, and primroses. There were a couple of untrimmed bushes along the fence – most fertilized with lady poop.
The neighbors on both sides could easily see into our garden from their back doors. The Neighbors on both sides had long since grown used to the notion they might see naked lady bits if they looked over their fence to our garden.
Today’s dare had counted on it, and if Mr. Langford wasn’t already watching we would have had the girls knock on the door. He was a lonely old widower with lots of time on his hands that loved to talk and look at naked women. The elderly had become especially fond of Sophie’s participation in the dares because he’d almost watched her grow up and now, he said she was blossoming like a Lily of the Garden.

Unfortunately, he was too old to shag even though we were quite sure he’d have been willing to try.
Sophie was the first to squat deep and low with her knees spread apart as far as she could. She put all of her weight on the dildo and pushed herself down a few inches. Her bald pussy exploded apart and began to drip as her nipples got hard. I felt her intention was to shock him into leaving but Gerald simply watched her with fascination. She slid her hands behind her, and Edward locked the cuffs on her. We were lucky her mother had a few extra pairs of them in her toy chest.

“My sons and nephew dared us to squat like this and pass tea back and forth, only swallowing when our nosy neighbor pops his head around to ask a question,” Joy explained politely as she set out the tea for the rest of us. Then she joined her daughter and embraced her so that their tits were pressed as closely together as they could without banging their knees together.

“You might not get a chance to swallow much tea if he doesn’t have anything to say?” Gerald asked as he watched Charlie lock his mother’s arms behind her back with handcuffs, It probably seemed outrageous to Gerald but with that huge bushy beard on his face it was nearly impossible to read his expression.

“Mr. Langford always has something to say, about the weather, birds, or asking why we are taking tea outside like two stupid whores who don’t know any better.”

There was an old rusty table with a few dirty chairs outside. They weren’t the kind you want to sit on. They’ll ruin your jeans. The only use the table had to us was to set the girl's food on it sometimes when we wanted them to stand instead of crawl outside.

Gerald sat down anyway. Sophie stifled a grin that he’d probably stain his dungarees, but they were work pants anyway and Gerald looked like he was no stranger to hard work and getting dirty on his farm.

The rest of us stood around the table and had tea as we often did. “I wondered that myself. The first night I met you, you told me that your sons had arranged the date and picked me up. At first, I thought that you would at least have looked at my profile. Not many women want to date a Pig Farmer from Crockton.”

“Well, Joy is a pig so, that makes sense,” Sophie was being snarky. Joy bopped her with her massive tits and forced her daughter to wobble a bit on her dildo to suggest she be quiet and let the man talk.

“Then you told me you didn’t bother looking at my profile. That made me think you thought I wasn’t worth your time. I stood there thinking that you were having me on. It wouldn’t have been the first time.”

“The first time you showed up at a naked woman’s house for a first date and she had a feather duster in her bum?” Sophie once again made a joke. I pinched her nose and forced mildly warm tea down her throat until she choked a bit.
Gerald paused and let Sophie have her laugh. He watched as her mum smacked her with her tits and the two women spit tea back and forth angrily. Then he continued with his explanation. “The ONE thing that intrigued me about your mum was just how adventurous and excited she seemed about being naked. I thought I was being recorded for a TV show because no one could be that funny.”

Joy swallowed the tea and smiled. I pinched her nose and poured her another warm mouthful. She kissed it into her daughter's mouth, and they passed it back and forth while the man explained.

“It seemed improbable that you’d really want to date a big oaf like me. I washed up but even with aftershave and soap I still feel like I smell of pig shit.”

Sophie was about to confirm that he did smell a little like pig shit when her mother proactively smacked her with her tits and forced her to swallow another gulp of tea. I kept pouring one of them a full mouthful anytime they swallowed.

“The only answer that made sense to me was that you had shoved that feather duster up your ass, or even glued it to your ass to make it look like you had done it. Then you told your sons to say they dared you to see if I was a pervert.”

It was an outlandish idea, but not much more removed from the truth which was she stuffed her ass with it because we dared her. Most mums would never dare. I could see how he might think it was a setup of some kind.

“I agreed to take you on the date out of curiosity. You told me you were a dumb, filthy slag and that wasn’t true either. You were funny and the life of the party at the pub. Everyone liked you. You flashed your body, and you can hold your alcohol like an Irishman. That’s my perfect woman. You smile constantly and your eyes sparkled with mischief. I began to get paranoid and think someone had obviously paid you to do this. It made a lot more sense than it being your idea of a test. I already thought you were a liar since you were anything but dumb. My new theory was that maybe my ex-wife had paid you. She knew exactly what I wanted, and she was letting me have a night out on the town with you. Then you and her would call me and laugh at me for thinking I deserved to be happy before hanging up.”

That was sad, and I felt bad for him. I think even Sophie did because she stopped making snarky comments after he said that. It also helped that I kept making her choke on tea and spit it back and forth into her mother’s mouth.

Joy didn’t seem like she believed him at that point though. She did consider herself rather ordinary and not much to look at. I knew that she wasn’t true. She wasn’t a Barbie doll, but she could be right sexy at times in a fun sort of way. If there is such a thing as a slapper, she certainly WAS one of those – but she wasn’t dumb.

He described his ex-wife. She would have been perfect for Colin. She was shrewful, vindictive, controlling, and always nitpicking him to act like a proper gentleman. He had tried to improve his education and been reading works because she thought he wasn’t cultured or refined enough. She wanted him to sell the pig farm and move to Surrey or London and get a white-collar job.

“The farms been in my family for as long as we can remember. I am told it was awarded to us after the battle of Aclea by the King of Wessex for valor of arms. I am not sure if that’s true, but my blood and sweat are in that land, and I wouldn’t sell it for all the money in the world. It’s not much but it is mine – you know? Anyway, she’s happy now without me, but she’s happier if she makes me miserable.”

He had two sons with her and a daughter of his own, but she forbids him to see them. “She poisoned them against me, tells them pig farming is low-rent and they don’t want to visit. I saw how happy your kids were with you and I thought.” Gerald stopped himself. “I don’t know, what I thought. I assumed it was all part of Angela’s games. She wanted me to see two boys and a daughter who actually loved their mum no matter what. I know it sounds far-fetched, but you seemed so perfect that I thought you were trying to tease me.”

He admitted that he got drunker than he had been in a while and began pouring beer on her head. “It would have stopped there but you liked it. You told me it was funny, and I thought no woman would like to be humiliated in front of a tavern of people she knew. They patrons were all laughing AT you, and they let me make you dance on the tables and shake your tits until we got kicked out of the tavern.”

“It’s a bit hazy,” Joy snickered that she vaguely recalled doing that, and seemed amused by the story.

“You kept asking when I’d shag you, and I thought that you were having a go with me. How could you have forgiven me for humiliating you in a tavern and want to have sex? In my mind, it confirmed that Angela had paid you to boff me so that I might develop feelings for you, just before she pulled the rug out from under me.”

“She sounds like a real bitch,” Sophie said after she finished her last bit of tea and held her mouth open for more. “I was kind of like that.”

“You are STILL like that,” Charlie cradled his sister’s head in his arms, squatted down, and let a fart off right in her open mouth. He left her gasping and choking. “You’ve done swallowed all the tea, so have a bite of a fart biscuit or close your mouth while the man is telling his story, you dumb tit-mouse.”

Gerald laughed loudly at their antics. “That’s funny! Your sister lets you knock off a fart in her mouth?”

“I don’t LET him, I dared him to fart in my mouth as often he can knock one and now, I regret it’s like having mustard gas sprayed down my throat,” Sophie clarified angrily as she gasped and tried to recover.

“Lip to lip until our guest asks you a question,” Charlie turned his sister’s head to face her mother and positioned them to kiss. They waited with their mouths pressed together but if they exchanged tongue, I didn’t see it.

“There’s more to my story, but I am not sure I can follow that,” he said. “It pretty much went how Sophie said it did. I left your mum in the dumpster, ass up with a couple of bruises. I thought that would teach her to tease me. I got about twenty meters down the road and realized that I was too drunk to stand much less drive and pulled into a ditch. In the morning, I came to my senses and wanted to go back and check on her, but the local constable was towing my truck and I was lucky not to get any charges. It’s not a defense, but I went back to the tavern and looked for you. I couldn’t find you. I spent time after this trying to sort out what happened.”

He told us how he confronted his ex-wife. “I didn’t tell her the sordid details of the night but concluded rather quickly she might have been spiteful enough to do something like that but that she hadn’t a clue what I was talking about. If she knew how gutted, I was then she would not have hesitated to twist a dagger when I told her that I really liked you.”

He told us how he lost himself in Scottish whiskey and self-loathing for a couple of days. He didn’t want to live with himself after knowing what he had done. “Then my mind began spinning up thoughts that maybe you didn’t make it home. What if I had denied these kids their mum?” he genuinely seemed horrified.

He told us he stopped working around the farm and the animals suffered because he just did the minimum to keep them fed. “Once I got my truck out of impound, I drove by your flat at least a dozen times before today. Every time I was too big of a coward to stop. I am a big man on the outside, but inside I was afraid. I waited a distance away and saw you riding your bikes with your daughter and was happy you were fine, but I still felt like I mucked it all up. I’ve had your clothes clean since Friday, but it took me two days of coming to your door, standing there like a dolt and losing my nerve before I finally knocked. That’s the story, and now that I tell it I am not sure it makes me feel any better after all.”

“What were you afraid of?” Joy asked as she broke her lip-lock with her daughter. “I couldn’t do anything to you with a brick and a gun.”

“If you had a brick and a gun, I wouldn’t be afraid,” He laughed. “I’d deserve no less. I was afraid that I’d knock, and you’d be in here doing something saucy and I’d have to live with the biggest mistake of my life and the knowledge that you were really the person you said you were.”

“You see me, right? I am squatting with my cunt soaking wet like a whore in heat, sitting down on a dildo with my tits out, handcuffed and having tea poured down my throat while I French with my daughter. You keep putting me on a pedestal like I am bloody Princess Diana.”

“Yeah, it’s all I can do to stop myself from staring,” he admitted.

“Then look. Why do you think we are spread so wide? These wankers have all seen my minge enough times they can describe it blindfolded,” Joy said playfully. She called us wankers as a term of endearment.
He looked deeply at her.

He asked her to explain how things really worked in her family and promised he would believe her. “I don’t think you are off your trolley or playing a twisted game with my head. I tried to make sense of it because you seemed too good to be true.”

“I was literally all coat and no knickers the night you met me,” Joy said. Coat and no knickers are a funny way of saying a girl who is all beauty and nothing inside, but in Joy’s case, she also meant that she wore a coat with no knickers on underneath to the pub that night.

Joy told him everything that afternoon. All of it – the bad and the good, about Colin and how he wanted to be Joanne Crump the housewife. How she didn’t want to live any other way than she was now. She explained how she liked to do dares for other people as much as for herself. She told him that we were free to dare anything, and she could always say no. She told him that she drew the line at shagging but everything else was fair game and on the table. She made no apologies for it and concluded by saying that she never intended to hurt his feelings or make him feel like he had no chance with him.

She did apologize though for not intending to date him. “I don’t see myself as being with a man who wants me like this, and it was wrong for me to lead you or anyone on.”

She told us that she didn’t care what consequences she faced, but that she could not continue the dare of letting them set her up on dates. She finished by concluding “I pretty much botched dating anyway because I agreed to never sit in chairs at home, if no one dares me to eat a certain way then I eat off the floor like a dog.”

Gerald remained silent while she finished and never interrupted. He asked Sophie to explain her story.

“Why? You want to ask me on a date? I’m 80 quid an hour,” she was half-joking. She was feeling randy and pumping her ass up and down slowly on the dildo. She explained how she’s always looked down on her mum and blamed her for leaving her dad. She told him what she told us about how she thought she wanted to be posh or proper and then realized that is how life grabs you by the balls and plays with its dick.

“She’s not afraid to have a little fun, get a little dirty, and I admire that. I don’t want to be her, but I want to be around her. I like doing dares my own way. I am a grimy, sluggish, foul-mouthed bitch. I am not a sex-slave or a pain slut, not really. I like being dared, but I like daring right back. I don’t like being told what to do and sometimes it turns me on when I have to do it anyway. I just started doing dares and giving dares and my ONLY regret is I didn’t start sooner. I’d have gotten a bigger bed, and a downstairs bedroom,” she joked.

He didn’t understand that reference. He thanked us all for telling him our story and told us that he had taken up enough of our time. Then he apologized once more and politely started to leave.

“Wait, all that and you’re not even going to shag me? Sophie can join in if you can handle both,” Joy called to him from the patio.

The big man stopped and turned with a slight tear in his eye. “I literally left you in a dumpster and I don’t think you are joking about letting me give you a tumble. That might last 15 minutes if I can hold out but would leave me wanting for more. I’d trade my farm to spend a day with you.”

There was a long pause.

“Okay then,” she said.

“What?”

“Is it a dare? A day with me and I get your farm?” she asked.

He stood there unable to comprehend what she was asking.

“You come with the farm though, right? I don’t know how to run the bloody thing.”

He ate supper with us and dared the girls to eat like pigs. He showed us how to really slop them like hogs. That night they returned to the tavern and from what I understand she blew the bartender, the manager, and the bus boy. He did make her streak home from the tavern though – but this time he drove about 10 meters behind her to make sure she got home alright.

He had to get back to his farm to check on the animals. Joy didn’t work and we were on summer holiday, so he took us to Crawton Hill. If you think South Godstone is dull, you should visit Crawton Hill sometime. It’s nothing but pigs, sheep, grass, and two fat whores.

It only made sense for Joy to move in because she was spending so much time there. It took them about a week to make it official and now she’s as happy as a pig in mud – quite literally. Charlie and Edward love it on the farm – slapping their mum and making her do dirty little dares.

She’s literally the piggy she always wanted to be – stays naked most of the time except when he takes Joy out pubbing or dogging. Gerald’s a good man – a real good man. He absolutely adores Joy. They both got tattoos to prove it.

There is nothing she won’t dare for him, and his creativity and depravity are only matched by his ability to fashion new contraptions for her. You should see the dildo wagon he makes her pull across the English countryside. She looks like a proper pony with a plume in her hair all dressed up in a leather corset and heels.

Sophie loved it too, but she’s not on the farm. She’s staying with me this year back in Fulham because her new step-dad arranged for tuition but not room and board. My parents insisted on giving her own room in our house while she lives with us.

I can’t wait to show off her to our school mates.

Ta-Ta for now. Ooh, wait till you find out what kind of “all-inclusive” resort my mum and dad went to in Malaga. That’s a story for another time.



Author's Note: I wanted to give Joy a happy ending to the story and I felt this is where it occurred- she could finally live as fully and openly as she chose and rut about in the mud like a proper slut piggy.

I loved these characters and particularly Joy. I wanted to write extensively more about her. The only reason that I chose not to was that I was finding it impossible to keep up with the differences in British culture. "4 Meters? How many Freedoms is that in Eagles?" :lol: but I would love to read more about Joy from a person in UK who might truly appreciate her.

I often had her speak with Geordi shore Northern slang, and live in Sussex, my thought was she lived all over and picked up some from the "telly" as an admixture. UK people seemed to have a hard time with that concept. You are either a Northie or you aren't to many of them but Joy has always been unique. I hope you enjoyed this story, and perhaps it will inspire more like it.
I enjoy writing stories that I would love to read. If you read my stories and enjoy them, the best way you could reward me is to write something along the same themes and genre.
All of my stories: https://storiesonline.net/a/eddie-davidson
Girlspns
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Re: My Sons Dared Me (Completed 2023) Seven Chapters

Post by Girlspns »

Hey friend, first off welcome to the forum, I'm glad you like it and thanks for contributing.

Just for the sake of avoiding confusion, I have given a brief but not extensive list of what is considered extreme in the rules forum, here's a quote of the relevant part:
"I reserve the right to remove or edit anything I feel is unsuitable for the board or just having a “bad feel” to it such as stories involving the exploitation of young children, pedophilia, excessive violence, gore, etc.
Just to note, the "excessive violence" refers to purely physical violence, exertion of physical force to injure, so I don't consider this story as a violation of that aspect."
You're not prohibited from posting those as long as you do actually tag your story like you did, so you should be just fine from now on.
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Re: My Sons Dared Me (Completed 2023) Seven Chapters

Post by EddieDavidson »

Thank you so much!!

What is the rule on posting a link to my other stories from another site?

I've also seen a few things that I am confused about.

He referenced "The Other Site" (TOS) but didn't tell me if that is this site?

I saw someone else reference PNS And FNA as sites but I don't know those. The world is acronym happy, and so it's a little confusing.

Lastly, is there a way to attach a photo? The attachment gave me an "Http" error and I don't know how to make it display or even evident it exists? Was I wasting my time with that?

I hope people will enjoy this story.
I enjoy writing stories that I would love to read. If you read my stories and enjoy them, the best way you could reward me is to write something along the same themes and genre.
All of my stories: https://storiesonline.net/a/eddie-davidson
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