Cousins don't need modesty (completed)

[EddieDavidson]

One more image from chapter two. i find when I give them their own thread, they are larger/easier to read.

Hope that is okay.

[EddieDavidson]

“You thought you could get one over on me? That I was a softie? Do you think I was born yesterday? I know every trick in the book. You think my sister hasn’t tried buttering me up to get out of being made to count?” I asked. I was lying, of course. I realized that I probably shouldn’t embellish too much about Janis since it’s possible they’d meet my older sister as well.

If she hadn’t been busy, my sister Janis may have been the one sent here to babysit tonight. I didn’t want to lay things on too thick. However, I was livid with the girls. I had naively walked into this scenario planning to be a diligent babysitter, and my Aunt warned me that her girls were going to tease and tempt me.

My cousins were bent over, face forward, asses up and exposed. They had been sliding down toward the ground so that they were almost kneeling at this point, waiting to be spanked bare-ass in their mother’s bedroom.

I was still trying to get my head around how I got into this situation. I had intended to be a good babysitter, but almost immediately, I had been tempted to play naughty games with the girls. I chalked up falling for the temptation as a mistake on my part. I wouldn’t fall for it again. These girls were good at teasing, and the playful flirtation they did at first was obviously a test – one that I had failed.

In order to make it up, I wasn’t going to be cruel or sadistic. I wasn’t going to be vindictive. However, I was going to be strict and hold these two little twats accountable. At first, they seemed delighted to dance around naked in front of me and even eager to be slapped on the butt. They didn’t look that way any longer as they stared straight ahead, pussies dripping and legs quivering.

The strange thing was, they didn’t fight it. Archie didn’t question it either. They acted like this was just how things were supposed to go, like getting their bare asses spanked was the obvious consequence for being little shits. I’d heard of corporal punishment, sure—knew some families believed in keeping their girls in line the old-fashioned way. I’ve also known there are some girls out there who are total sluts, and I’d imagine that without some discipline, they’d walk all over their mom and probably end up as teen mothers.

I’d also heard that many people believed girls didn’t need modesty. I’ve seen mothers take down their daughter's skirts and spank them in department stores when they throw tantrums and act spoiled. However, usually, they weren’t as cute or as vivacious as my cousins. I

Still, the way they were all acting, it felt… normal. And if they weren’t questioning my authority, why should I? I leaned into my common sense on how to project confidence in this situation – despite being uncertain of myself.
“Girls normally have to do something to show they are paying attention, and counting is the least you could do. Would you rather count, Veronica? That IS the rule, after all, of course, then we’d start over at zero, and we’d start over each time you lose count, and you’ll definitely have to tell your Mummy all about Aethelbert and how you were caught fucking him on her bed. Your decision. Which would you rather?”

Veronica coughed slightly as I slid the dildo from her mouth, a thin string of spit connecting her lips to the toy before it snapped. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand after I took the dildo out. I had no idea how far I must have pushed it into her throat. My cousin’s eyes were a little watery, and she looked itchy. “No, Mr. Dalton,” she said, her voice steady but edged with frustration. “If it’s fair for me, though, it’s fair for Betty to have to do this too?”

Betty frowned; “How’s that fair? I wasn’t the one having a go on the purple pussy-eater—you were.”

I held the dildo up to Betty’s nose, so she had to sniff it, glancing between the two of them. “Fair’s fair, Betty. You were the one who led me here, knowing exactly what Veronica was up to. You’ve both been playing the same game—you just didn’t get caught with a toy in your hand.” I paused, letting the silence stretch just enough to make them squirm. “Now, before I put the dildo back down your throat so we can get on with your spanking before dinner, do either of you have anything to say?”

“Yes, I’ve really got to use the loo, I’ve been holding it for a bit, Mr. Dalton, may I be excused momentarily,” Betty asked with the apologetic grace of an innocent angel. “It seems you’ll be here with my sister for a bit. If it’s 48 more swats, at one a minute, that’s well past teatime.”

I had no idea when teatime was, or if it was just a figure of speech. I was going to grant her a bathroom reprieve. I wasn’t heartless, and I had no reason to doubt her, and we didn’t need her for this.

“Not bloody likely, Betty. You’re staying put,” Archie insisted. If you even have to go pee, the second you’re out the door, you’ll go give yourself a wank, while you listen to the delightful sound of Veronica’s ass getting tanned. You’re not weaseling out of this one.”

“You can double my swats if I’m not back in five minutes, promise, Arch!” Betty promised, her voice soft and sincere like she genuinely meant to follow through.

“How does it work when your mom gives you spankings? Are you allowed to take a break?” I asked.

“For crying out loud,” Veronica said. “Betty, do you want to make a proper cup of tea and have some cucumber sandwiches, perhaps while you are at it? Mum would never let you be dismissed during punishment; the same reason she would expect Arch to watch the entire ordeal so he knows what happens when you act like a proper little tart or a dodgy git. Every minute you spend arguing with Mr. Dalton is another I’ve got to spend with my legs spread halfway from here to Newcastle. I’ve got to take a proper pooh! so can we just crack on with the paddling?”

Archie laughed and warned me “Don’t spank my sister’s arse TOO hard, Mr. Dalton, or she’ll get peanut butter all over your mum’s paddle! Then again, Veronica could do with having the crap spanked out of her!”

“Harr, harr, Arch! Laugh it up! I know what I did was naughty, and I’ll take my medicine,” Veronica glowered before opening her mouth wide, inviting me to put her mother’s purple dildo back in her mouth. She fully accepted that she was going to have her ass spanked raw, and she was going to do it with the dildo she had just fucked herself with.

There was something so raw and naughty about a girl who knew she was dirty and accepted she’d be punished for it. I got the impression early on that the girls got some thrill out of the light spankings they received, but the look on Veronica’s face was different. It was eyebrows arched angrily, and a look of gritty determination that she knew she was in for a paddling and had to endure it.

She didn’t argue, she didn’t negotiate, she didn’t deny what she did. She accepted it, without the eager, playful devil-may care attitude they had at first.

It was obvious to me that the girls got punished frequently enough, that Archie watching them get disciplined was out of the question. It seemed like the teasing adding to the humiliation only enhanced the punishment, and I quite liked that.

“It’s not Arch, and it’s not Archie, not while he is my Assistant Babysitter,” I explained as I worked that purple dildo as far into my cousin's mouth as I could. I decided that he should have a title just like me. “It’s MISTER Archie.”

[[[ image 03_purple.jpg goes here centered ]]]

The girls had organically dropped to the knees during the spanking, and now their knees were getting rug burn from the carpet.

Veronica’s eyes flared for a second, but her mouth was too full to argue. She let out a muffled sound, maybe a protest, maybe not – she may have just been trying to suck down some air.

“Oh, bollocks, now you are just taking the piss. I’ll call you Mr. Dalton because you are my older cousin, but I don’t have to call my little brother Mister Archie!” she insisted.

“Your mom made it succinctly clear before she left—do what I say, when I say it, no fuss, no backchat.” I let that hang in the air for a moment, watching her face tighten. “And that includes calling Archie Mister Archie while he’s the assistant babysitter. You’ve got to accept that YOU are the BABY being SAT and not the baby SITTER.”

I thought that was a particularly clever observation, if I do say so myself.

I was shocked at how easily that stopped my cousin from continuing her bickering. I took my time handing off the paddle and counted three swats. Veronica didn’t flinch until I added that there were forty-seven more swats to go.

The girls had started bent over, holding their ankles. I had taken so long with my spanking that they seemed to have melted into more of a kneeling position. Their butts were still up. Legs were still apart, but they had both drifted away from the rigid position they began in.

I forced them to bend over at the waist and grab their ankles before I allowed him to continue, wide stance, holding their ankles – side by side. The girls complied without complaint. They even seemed to expect to be adjusted this way. I didn’t physically touch them with my hands, but I got the impression they wouldn’t have minded it at all.

“I am not sure if there is more spit hanging from Veronica’s lover or from her pussy,” I remarked to Archie how the long strands of spit seemed to come out of either hole on his pretty sister.

“In the UK, we call that squirty little hole between their legs a quim, cunnie, twat, or a cunt,” Archie replied casually. I noticed that Veronica and Betty both blushed when he said that, and it took effort for both of them not to say something snarky back.

He stepped up behind Veronica’s round little arse. He gripped the paddle like he was about to take a swing in some posh sport, then gently nudged her butt up with his fingers to line up the shot.

Veronica’s eyes flicked nervously over her shoulder, but I cut her off before she could say anything. “Look straight ahead,” I ordered.

Archie crouched slightly, holding the paddle low by his side like he was setting up for a shot—or maybe just getting a better look at his sister’s dripping pussy. I wasn’t exactly an expert on spanking, but I figured it should land flat across the width of her ass cheeks.

I started to second-guess my decision to make Archie the assistant babysitter when it looked like he was about to swing up from the floor. As he brought the paddle upwards, sharp and fast, he muttered under his breath, “Going for a six.”

The paddle cracked hard against Veronica’s pussy, knocking her forward with a sharp gasp, her hands scrambling to steady herself on the floor. The impact sent a ripple through her, her eyes flaring with alarm, and the muffled sound around the dildo in her mouth told me she wasn’t ready for the sting of that angle.

“Fucking hell, you walloped me right in the cunnie!” Veronica spat the dildo out of her mouth, a string of spit trailing from her chin as she glared over her shoulder. “Stop playing bloody cricket with my fanny, Mr. Archie!”

“Wait, I thought a fanny was a butt. Where did he hit you, the cunnie or the fanny?” I asked, genuinely confused.

Veronica shot me an exasperated look, wiping the spit off her chin. “In the UK, fanny means cunt, arse means butt. And he bloody well got me square in the cunnie!”

I loved how vulgar the language was in Brittain, but it was also a bit confusing.

“Your mom said it had to sting when girls get spanked. Are you any worse for the wear? You probably won't sneak off and play with yourself again now that you have to start all over because you took her lover out of your mouth."

Veronica’s lips pressed into a thin line as the realization hit her. She glanced at me, then at Archie, and I could see the flicker of regret behind her eyes—not panic, but enough to know she’d just made things harder for herself.

“No, Mr. Dalton,” she said, steady but quieter this time. “I’m not worse for wear.” She paused, shifting slightly on her sore knees. “But I didn’t think that’d mean starting over. That was my mistake.” She sucked in a breath, her eyes darting down for a second before she met my gaze again. “I’ve had spankings like that before—but not from sitters. And not fifty of them.” There was no whining in her tone, but they were far from the giggly, enthusiastic teases they were when I first met the two of them.

I ran my hand over the paddle, feeling its weight while considering my options. Veronica might be trying to manipulate me. I was so horny that I would probably fall for it. She might genuinely be repentant but after five swats? That was half of what her regular sitters gave her, and her mom said she usually got spanked twice a night when they were over.

I could imagine what it would feel like to be spanked on the ass and then suddenly get one in the balls. I could easily tell her it had to sting, but at the same time, I felt sorry for the girl.

Veronica reached down between her legs and rubbed her sore pussy. I didn’t stop her because I could understand it, and both girls took a stretch.

“Stop your whinging, Veronica,” Archie muttered, adjusting his grip on the paddle. “Mum’s spanked you on the twat when you’ve been naughty, and I am sure she knows how to swing it much harder than I do. If you didn’t want a sting in your cunnie, you should’ve thought twice before shoveling Mum’s purple dildo in your gaping hole!”

“I didn’t know it would get me in this grand pile of sheep shit; I’ve got to call my brother Mister Archie and offer up my ass and cunnie like I am a walking wicket stump for batting practice. I should have just sucked off the babysitter when he dared me to, and he’d be taking a nap now. It was Betty’s brilliant idea to tease him and keep him horny all night.”

“Why did you go on and tell him that you, barmy cow?” Betty was flustered. She apologized to me profusely. “We really weren’t trying to give you blue balls. We haven’t had a cute male sitter before, and we like to tease guys.”

“You lying gobs,” Archie frowned and threw his hands up in the air. “It’s a little game the two sluts like to play. They invite over neighbor fellas when Mum isn’t about and ask him if he wants to play truth or dare.”

“ARCHIE!” Veronica and Betty shouted in unison, but it was too late. Archie was already spilling their secret.

They’ve been playing the blue ball game since they were in Surrey,” Archie continued, his tone sharp. “Doesn’t matter if he’s some cute bloke or an old drunk. First thing they do is strip off completely and get him to play truth or dare. And the first thing the poor sod wants is to take them from behind or get a bit of head.”

I noticed my cousins tight-lipped and angry, but they didn’t interrupt. They were being ratted out, and there was nothing they could do about it. I folded my arms and listened intently.

“Whoever doesn’t get picked for the dare always pretends it’s unfair,” Archie sneered. “They go on about how the bloke’ll be one shot and done, lose interest after he cums. But both of them act like they want a little taste of his knob. My sisters act like they want their naughty games to last all night, saying he’s not allowed to cum till the very end. The punter usually gets cold feet and legs it. Some blokes think that they can take on both of them. My sisters will pretend they’d love nothing more than to cozy up and make out with some old geezer, but they make the excuse that he’ll shoot his load and ruin all their fun.”

The girls frowned and grumbled, looking down at the rug.

“My dirty sisters keep egging the fellas on, teasing about how they don’t want him jizzing too early. They play their dirty little dare games all night, and then—what do you know? Mum comes home, and it’s out the back window with the punter before she finds out. Happens every time.”

“She’s caught a few of the fellas leaving through the back door as well,” Veronica admitted soberly. She looked at me without any excuse for a reaction. There wasn’t much the girls could say to defend themselves. My cousins obviously weren’t very proud of themselves now that their brother had told me I was just another player in their teasing games.

“It wasn’t personal, Mr. Dalton. We just thought you’d be like the rest of the punters,” Veronica offered apologetically.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t be upset that I was just the next contestant on The Bitch Is Right, what is your next bid on these two little teases!” I quipped angrily.

“You are right to be upset with us, and I am not trying to make excuses, Mr. Dalton,” Betty said as if she was definitely offering an excuse. “When you asked for a blowjob right off, instinct kicked in. Most guys first dare is for one of us to gobble their knob or go straight away to shagging. They usually last two, maybe three minutes tops. Then it’s done.”

“Then why tell them they can dare you to do anything if you won’t do whatever they want?” I was confused.

“Cheeky little whores, the both of ‘em. They’ve been pulling this shit since we were in Surrey,” Archie commiserated with me. He clearly had no sympathy for the girls.

“I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense, and we aren’t going to pretend we are the brightest bulbs. We always say it can be any dare, and they always say it’s going to be head or fucking, one or the other,” Veronica added.

I noticed that Betty’s legs were shaking restlessly, like she wanted to stand up and run out of the room. Veronica twitched nervously as well.

“If we give them what they want right away, they’ll get tired of us straight off when they realize we aren’t much fun to talk to about anything outside of dirty stuff. We’ve no real interests in sports, or arts, or books, and we can’t really pretend because we aren’t exactly the brightest bulbs.” Betty explained in a self-deprecating but honest manner. She added “When they can’t get their cock up again, they’ve no use for chatty little sluts that are basically just life support for two boobs, a twat, and a pooh hole.”

“They’ll either bore of us, or when we start whinging and bickering with each other, they’ll realize our shit doesn’t smell like roses and high tail it,” Veronica added. “Speaking of pooh holes, and stinky shit, I’ve really got to go to the loo, Mister Arnold, can I be excused?”

“If you hadn’t spit your mom’s dildo out of your mouth, you would still be getting spanked right now,” I reminded my cousin that she’d still be getting punished. “You’ve also proven to be an incredible liar, so I never know if you are truthful and really have to go.”

Veronica reiterated her need to use the bathroom, stamping her feet but pleading politely. I wasn’t sure if they usually asked the sitter if they could use the bathroom or this was because they were being punished.

I let the silence stretch, watching the flicker of discomfort in her eyes. “Since you’re such a desperate little slut, fine. You can go.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” she kissed me on the cheek and started to dash off like a squirrel after a nut. The family only has one bathroom in the small rental house.

Betty piped up, squirming on the spot, doing this little pee-pee dance—a sort of anxious scoot on her knees like she was five again. “Wait—Mr. Dalton—I’ve really got to go too. Please!” She was practically bouncing in place now, her legs shaking. The cute blonde held her tummy and danced about while Archie chuckled.

The girls started bickering immediately about who had the greater need and who could be done faster.

“I’ve got to go more!” Betty hissed.

“Bugger off, I asked first!” Veronica snapped back, “Mr. Dalton already said I could,” she said. The two of them walked toward the bathroom.

I shook my head, laughing. “I can see what you mean about scaring off a sitter, rather than listen to the two of you complain and bicker.”

“In the U.K. we call it whinging,” Archie nudged me and added with a wink “these two bitches have turned whinging into an art form!”

Betty’s face twisted in frustration, doing an exaggerated dance now, scooting on her knees like a kid about to wet herself. I watched her squirm for a few more seconds before shaking my head.

“The door stays open, ladies!” I insisted.

“Are you two going to just stand outside the door and listen to me cut air biscuits?” Veronica hustled over to the toilet, not looking backward to see if we were actually watching her or just standing outside the bathroom.

“Your mom told me you aren’t allowed to shut doors in the house, because she knows you’ll be in there fingerbanging your twats and playing with your tits,” I said. I didn’t look in the bathroom. I felt there were some lines I shouldn’t cross.

Archie wasn’t listening. He was egging his sister Betty on about “dancing the pee-pee dance,” and laughing as she frantically tried to keep moving to avoid pissing herself.

“That applies for our room, not when we are on the bog, you don’t want to watch us squeeze cheese do you?” I could hear Veronica scrunching her nose in disgust by how she asked it.

I didn’t answer the question. Instead, I asked Betty slowly “Ask me nicely if you can pee in the sink since your sister is on the bog,” I laughed about how silly the word bog sounded.

“Mister Arnold, may I please pee in the sink?” my cousin begged sweetly. I could see the desperation in her eyes. I gave her credit, if she was willing to humiliate herself by begging to pee in the sink, she must really need to go.

I was about to give her permission when Archie insisted on hearing her ask again but say “pretty, pretty please with cherries and squirty cream on top.”

Betty groaned, shifting on her feet, but she didn’t argue. “Pretty, pretty please, with cherries and squirty cream on top,” she muttered, her cheeks turning red. I have to admit that I might have felt guilty if I hadn’t felt like a guinea pig in the latest round of Family Fuck Around and Find Out Feud while the girls tested and teased me only to find me just like every other guy that wants a blowjob.

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Veronica huffed from in the bathroom. “We don’t have to normally ask permission of the sitter to use the toilet. We just did because we were in the middle of getting a spanking. Usually, those are ten quick swats or a time out in the corner. Just go pee, Betty!”

Betty froze, glancing between me and her sister, her face flushed with frustration. She was going to erupt. She clearly needed to hear me give her permission, or she may have stood there until she exploded on the carpet in the hallway.

“Fine, you can turn the faucet on your piss-flaps and let loose, sis,” Archie joked. I had to admit, I liked my cousin’s sense of humor. His language was just as colorful as his mother’s.

Betty dashed into the bathroom, and a second later, I heard the sound of trickling piss. “Sounds like Rice Krispies pop-crackling with the milk,” I observed with a snicker.

Betty burst into hysterical laughter, and then I heard her cuss. “I laughed so hard that I nearly fell into the bloody sink!”

“Just be thankful we don’t make you use the sink from now on, you pissy-munter,” Archie teased.

I glanced at him, curious. “Are you like this when your mom’s home? You were acting totally different when I first arrived.”

“I don’t usually take an active role in telling the girls what to do or managing any of their chores. This is the most I’ve spoken to them in months. Mum doesn’t ask me to discipline them, and I’ve never had any interest. They’ll do what I tell them—bring me a towel, clean up my room—but anything more than that? My sisters are a lot of drama, and they’re more hassle than they’re worth.

“Hey, we’d like a little gratitude and appreciation for all our work,” Veronica shouted from within the bathroom.

I ignored her and turned back to Archie. “Then why are you helping me?”

“Because you asked, and I was flattered,” He paused, giving a slight grin that didn’t feel forced. “And watching them squirm when they can’t get their way? That’s just a bonus.”

I was startled because I heard one of the girls cut the cheese. “That sounded like a foghorn blast!”

“Then quit hanging outside the door if you’re scared of a little girl fart,” Veronica was clearly perturbed, but the joking felt different. It felt a bit like the relationship they had with their mom, where I could mock them without feeling guilty about it.

Betty quipped playfully, “Girls don’t fart. Must’ve been the walls settling, and what you smell might be your upper lip.”

“It smells like rotten ham and eggs, and beef farts out here, so if that’s not a fart, then you need to see a doctor, love,” Archie held his nose.

“You have one minute to wipe your dirty bums, and I want them clean because Mister Archie and I haven’t forgotten the swats we owe you from earlier. We still need to discuss your new punishment for teasing and manipulating your babysitter,” I announced.

Veronica groaned loud enough for it to echo through the door. “You can’t rush perfection, Mr. Dalton. You want clean bums or half-assed work?”

“With asses as fat as yours, I understand it takes a bit to clean them! But you have had plenty of time,” I decided. “You should have been done a while ago. I am hungry for dinner!”

Yeah, we wouldn’t want to come out with dirty bums. You’d just have to bend us back over and clean up our crusty twats yourself, wouldn’t you?” Betty teased. I could hear them fumbling around, giggling, and playing. They were probably stalling more than wiping. Archie glanced at me, smirking like he was already counting down in his head.

“Thirty seconds,” I called out how much time I had left, keeping my tone even. I heard more giggling as my cousins pled for more time. “Girls don’t need modesty, and that means we can come and go as we please,” I decided to head into the bathroom. Archie looked at me as if I was nuts.

I had heard their farts, I could smell the pooh and the pee, but I went in anyway. I wasn’t into watching stuff like that, but the girls seemed to be stalling, and I was going to call their bluff. If I was wrong, I could still say that I was checking on them.

I reminded them that the girls don’t get modesty, and it shouldn’t be any big deal for me to enter the bathroom while they were using it as I entered. “Your mom told me to watch you two bathe, so…” I said as I steeled my own confidence and walked in like Colonel Klink inspecting the barracks in Hogan’s Heroes.

It wasn’t something I could have predicted I’d be doing tonight – but none of this was.

“Gross, don’t come in, we are still going ….” The girls shouted defensively, as I walked in on them. I caught them both masturbating with toothbrushes as they giggled and joked around. I am a frequent masturbator, but I couldn’t imagine being so eager to jerk off that I’d do it with someone else in the room who was jerking off too.

I definitely couldn’t imagine doing it around my own younger brother, or Archie.

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My cousins were mid-stroke when I caught them playing with themselves in the bathroom. They certainly hadn’t expected me to barge in on them with the bristle end of toothbrushes stuck in their quims. It took a moment for the terror to reach their face as my cousins realized I had just caught them masturbating together.

“Don’t be mad,” Veronica batted her eyes at me as she removed the toothbrush from her wet pussy.

It took a couple more seconds for the shock to register with Betty. She had been sucking on one toothbrush like it was an all-day sucker and popped the bristle end of the brush out of her asshole. “This was her idea!” Betty blamed her sister before exclaiming that she really did pee and finished early – like that would make a difference.

“Were you masturbating with your own toothbrushes?” I put my hands on my hips in consternation. I had never even considered using a toothbrush like a sex toy. Archie was right behind me; despite his reluctance he had followed me into the bathroom to check on the girls.

‘No, the pink one in Betty’s bum is MINE, and the Veronica was using to scrub her joy buzzer is Mums! Or at least it was. I doubt she’ll want the bloody thing now!” Archie informed me.

The girls were clearly busted, but they still remained aloof, unapologetic. They made excuses. “We were going to wash them! You didn’t give us any time to get off! We were getting horny!” Betty’s rapid-fire excuse gun was set to semi-automatic.

“You got us all hot and bothered, and you weren’t supposed to come in! We went pee! I didn’t want to do it. it was Veronica’s idea!” Betty’s excuses were more like grenades being lobbed in any random direction.

“I am going to have to tell your mum what you did to her toothbrush,” I insisted.

“No, please! We’ll do whatever you want, we’ll behave! We’ll be good! Please!!” the girls made promises that I knew they’d never keep.

“I can’t believe how horny you little sluts are!” I chided them before deciding that I’d have to punish them for this as well. “New rule, when I am babysitter, ALL doors stay open, and you will ALWAYS ask permission to pee or use the bathroom, and me or Mister Archie will take the toothbrushes!”

“We really did use the loo, you don’t want to smell our farty poohs, Mr. Dalton! Please don’t make us do that!”

“I don’t, but you can’t be trusted; you are horny little sluts that like to get yourself off any chance you get!”

“What choice did we have? You were gonna mash our bums into spud pudding or stripe ‘em up like a slab of streaky bacon—take your bloody pick! I got so randy holding myself open and spread like that for so long that, I couldn’t help myself,” Veronica finally said something that sounded like the truth.

“It turned you on to bend over and spread your cheeks?” I asked. I was surprised by that. She sounded a little vulnerable when she made that admission.

“It’s not like I wanted it to, but standing there, all exposed like that, knowing you were looking—it’s hard to explain. It’s like… you’ve got no control, right? But at the same time, that’s the thrill. You feel every little thing, the air on your skin, the way your arse is just out there, and you can’t do anything about it. It’s humiliating, but it makes you feel alive.” She paused, biting her lip slightly before adding, “Maybe it’s the not knowing what’ll happen next that gets me going. All I know is I wasn’t dripping cream on the floor because I wanted to do it. I couldn’t help myself, I guess I am a horny little git.”

I get unintended boners all the time. I got the impression it might be involuntarily for girls as well. “Girls can’t even control when they get horny?” I asked. “What about you, Betty? What’s your real excuse for getting caught in the bathroom with a toothbrush in your bum?”

Betty’s face turned bright red when I asked the question, and she groaned, covering it with her hands for a second before letting them drop. “I know I am a naughty little slag, okay. This is so embarrassing. I don’t always put things up my bum…” she muttered.

“You do it all the time, whenever you get the chance,” Veronica outed her sister, and Betty turned an even brighter shade of red.

I glared at the girls, and silently prodded Betty to explain herself. I was genuinely curious what made girls tick, and I wanted to hear it – even if I couldn’t trust them to be honest with me.

“I know it’s where I pooh from, and it’s supposed to be stinky and disgusting, but I get off more when I put things up my bum than I do when I finger my fanny. I can’t explain it, this weird pressure. It makes everything down there feel tighter like I’m full in the best way. And when I squeeze my legs together, it’s like, I dunno, sparks everywhere. It’s embarrassing to have to explain it.”

I loved how Betty blushed innocently and exposed her vulnerable feelings about how anal stimulation turned her on. I’d never heard a girl even admit she liked a finger in her backdoor – this was the hottest confession I’d ever heard.

I pretended not to be moved by it, and looked at her like she was the naughtiest slut in the world.

She glanced up, eyes flicking between us, trying to gauge just how deep in it she was. “And I’m always sucking on things. I can’t help it. I’ve been doing it since I was a baby gagging on my dummy,” she added, cheeks blazing. “It’s like, having something in my mouth keeps me calm, but it also… I dunno; it does something to me. Like it’s not just my mouth that’s busy.”

I assumed a “dummy” was a baby pacifier – I could see how it might make good training to learn to suck a dick. “I may have to get you a dummy to suck on, if you two are going to act like naughty babies playing with your cunnies and arse holes!” I tried to sound natural using British cuss words. I liked how cheeky my cousins and Aunt sounded when they used them.

She shot Veronica a quick glare but didn’t hold onto it. “My sister assured me we’d get away with it as long as one of us farted every now and again—said it’d sound like we were actually using the loo.” Betty rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t trying to get in more trouble or test you. I don’t blame you for thinking that, Mister Dalton. I just wanted a bit of fun before we had to go back to punishment.”

I could see how both girls seemed to pile on to one another and try to get the other in trouble. They were both equally in trouble as far as I was concerned.

“Does your mum give you set times when you can play with yourselves, or are you forbidden from having orgasms?” I asked, curious how strict her rules really were. I had some ideas for rules of my own after what I had just seen. The girls casually stood there naked, pussies dripping, holding the toothbrushes they just had inside them.

Veronica raised an eyebrow, her mouth twitching like she wasn’t sure if I was serious about my question. “You think she’s got a bloody schedule taped to the fridge? ‘Tuesday at six, girls, time for a wank’?” She snorted, but the sarcasm didn’t quite cover the flicker of discomfort in her eyes.

Betty shifted; her face still flushed. “We’re not forbidden,” she muttered, picking at a loose thread on her top. “But we’re not supposed to sneak off whenever we feel like it either. Mum says if we’ve got time to get our jollies, we’ve got time to scrub the floors.”

Veronica let out a short laugh, but it sounded more defensive than amused. “Yeah, and if she catches us? Straight over her knee, bare arse. Doesn’t matter if we’re halfway there or not.”

“Well, one thing is for certain, your mum told me the doors stay open, and you aren’t to get yourself off on my watch. You’ll keep the doors open in EVERY room. You’ll ask permission before using the bathroom, and you’ll keep the door open while you do,” I added. “Girls don’t need modesty, and that means we can come and go as we please in the bathroom to make sure you aren’t filling your holes. Now clean these toothbrushes thoroughly!”

Betty groaned; her face flushing even deeper. “I don’t mind asking you for permission, Mister Dalton, but not Mister Archie, please…” She shot her brother a desperate look, knowing exactly how he’d twist it. “He’ll make us do the bloody pee-pee dance every single time!”

Veronica crossed her arms, huffing. “Yeah, he’ll have us hopping about like idiots just to laugh at us.”
Betty muttered under her breath, “I nearly squirted myself silly in the hallway last time.” She shot her little brother another worried glare, but it was clear he was already enjoying the thought.

“I am not asking, I am telling,” I told the girls this was unequivocally going to be. I channeled a phrase I’d heard my mother tell me before when she put her foot down and left no room for argument.

“Mum says that all the time… did you hear her say that?” Veronica asked, clearly surprised. The others looked just as shocked I had rattled off one of their mother’s catchphrases. “This isn’t all the time, then, is it? Just when you’re here babysitting?”

Archie shook his head. “Mum said you’ve got to listen to everything Mr. Dalton says, and that means his rules.” He shot them a look, smirking. “It SHOULD be all the time, because you’ve gone and soiled my toothbrush, no idea how long you’ve been packing your turd makers with my brush, and I hadn’t the foggiest. What am I supposed to do now for a brush? You don’t expect me to use it after I know you’ve done the nasty with it, do you?”

“We’ll clean it, Archie!” she promised before correcting herself “I mean, Mister Archie, but you’ve got to do what the babysitter says as well, and I am sure you beat your meat in the bathroom; how about you keep the doors wide open, and ask to take a pooh?” Veronica fired back, still flushed from the fresh embarrassment of being caught.

“Girls don’t need modesty because they are just girls after all You’re meant to be seen and kept in check. Boys are held to a different standard—I don’t need to ask permission to use the loo, because I am not a horny wanker that would pull my pud the moment I got a minute to myself, or stuff my bum with whatever was at hand for a wild thrill,” Archie decided.

He asked me after he made the proclamation to his sisters to be certain. “Right, Mr. Dalton? I don’t have to beg permission to have a whizz, like a girl would, do I?”

I was somewhat amused that he had been so cocksure that he wouldn’t have to obey the same rules as his sisters, that he had just blurted them out. I was tempted to tell him he had to ask my permission just to keep his ego in check. I felt a kindred spirit with Archie. I was stumbling my way through this babysitting gig and making it up as I went.

He lived with his sisters day in and day out, and it felt like he wasn’t sure how things were supposed to work either. Life at Aunt Alice’s house had to be a constant circus with these two slutty girls around.

I nodded without hesitation. “No, Archie, you don’t have to ask permission. You are a guy, so you are supposed to have privacy at all times – especially when you are doing your private business. You’re not the one who can’t keep your hands out of your pants the second you’re alone. The rules are for the girls because they need them. You saw what happened when we trusted the girls even a little bit.”

The girls blushed as they cleaned and scrubbed the toothbrushes that they had used to pleasure themselves in the sink. It had to be truly embarrassing for us to know how horny they were and now watch them clean up after they were caught. I deeply enjoyed the feeling of standing over them and taking these two flirty little sluts down a notch.

“I don’t think your mum or Archie are going to be brushing their teeth with those again,” I said, snatching up the two brushes that belonged to my Aunt and Archie. The girls’ faces flickered with a mix of guilt and anticipation. “So, I’m going to make your day. I’ve had a change of heart. I’m ordering pizza for all of us, and I’m going to let you keep playing with your toothbrushes.”

Archie’s smug expression disappeared, like I’d just betrayed him. Veronica and Betty exchanged a quick glance, puzzled but cautiously hopeful as they reached out to take the brushes back from me. “Really?” Veronica asked, her voice skeptical but tinged with excitement.

“Oh, absolutely,” I said, handing them over. “You enjoyed yourselves, didn’t you? You deserve a little fun and relief, right?”

I graciously handed the girls two of the pink brushes. I probably mixed them up and handed Archie’s brush that Betty had up her rectum to her sister, but I didn’t care, and the girls accepted them with thanks. They seemed puzzled by my generosity, and Veronica sniffed hers.

I assumed that she was trying to tell if it was her pussy or her sister’s ass smell on the bristles.

“You said you like being naked and showing off,” I reminded them, my tone steady but enthusiastic. “Since you had so much fun playing with yourselves, you’ll shove these brushes right back up your bum holes. You won’t mind walking around with them lodged in your doo-doo holes until your mom gets home, will you? I think that’s a proper punishment, over more paddling.”

I let that hang for a second before adding, “You can apologize to her for ruining the brushes, and admit you were caught masturbating with them, and that you’ve probably been doing it for a long time. I think it’s a proper punishment. And you won’t be sitting down while you’re naked, so when the pizza guy drops by in thirty minutes or less, you can show him your pink little punishment tails and explain why you’re being disciplined.

“I’ve got to put this up my bum?” Veronica scrunched her nose in disgust as she looked at the brush. “I don’t even know if this was the one I was using, and I was just using the bristles on my clit. How is this a fair punishment?”

“It’s that, or we can go back to spanking your ass with the paddle; I think this is a much more humane and less painful punishment,” I shrugged. Judging from the incredulous look on their faces, I felt this new idea may just be a better punishment.

They were used to being spanked, and while the paddle was a new twist – they would remember this for a while.

“Yeah… infinitely better than another round with that paddle,” Veronica agreed, but she hadn’t stuffed it up her ass yet. Her cheeks were flushed like she was still thinking about it. “It’s just that I hadn’t shoved mine up my arse like Betty the Butt Girl over there.”

Betty grinned impishly – flattered by the accolade but also a bit mortified. I found it interesting that the girls were naughty, mischievous, and extroverted. Yet, they could also be humiliated and reluctant to do things they would do in private without reservation.

“Does it really matter what hole you used to tickle yourself?” Archie asked firmly. “You’ve had ‘em up both ends by now, I am sure. Today wasn’t the first time you played with my toothbrush, I am sure. I had the brush in my MOUTH; it’s it late to worry about whose stink is whose.”

“I am not going to let you two sluts walk around with the brushes hanging out of your pussies playing with yourself, but since you like showing off, you can bend over for the pizza guy when he gets here. You don’t get modesty, so bending over and asking him to have a look at your major accomplishment for the night shouldn’t be that big of a deal to either of you.”

My cousins shot me a pair of lemony frowns.

“You can tell him all about how you got caught playing with yourselves in the bathroom and ask if the delivery guy if he thinks it’s a fair punishment. If he says no, I’ll allow you to take them out. If not, you’ll keep them up your asses until your mom gets home and ask her whether she thinks it was a fair punishment.”

“What if she doesn’t get home ‘til morning?” Betty gasped, clearly shocked by how strict I was being.

“You LOVED having the brush in your butt before, what’s different?” I grinned. “You love attention, you love things up your ass. I think it’s a win-win!”

Betty looked at me, her playful grin fading into something closer to a pout. “It’s just… humiliating, Mister Dalton,” she said, her voice dropping as she tried to sound serious. “You’re not even going to let us enjoy it. We can’t play with ourselves, and you’ll just tease us, calling me Betty the Butt Girl,” she pouted.

She was right, and I nodded with a grin.

She shifted on her feet, glancing toward the door with a nervous flick of her eyes. “I wouldn’t think twice about flashing the pizza guy—I mean, we’ve done worse—but he’s going to laugh at me, not with me.” She let out a soft groan. “And when Mum gets home, you know how she is. She’ll probably be pissed and give us even more punishment. She always says if we’ve got time to mess around, we’ve got time to stand in the corner with a sore bum.”

Veronica added. “And it’s not like we won’t feel it. After a few hours with these brushes up our butts, we’ll be walking funny for days. I’ve never put anything in my quim or arse all night before!”

“That’ll give you plenty of time to think about what you did and remind you not to do it again, won’t it?” I said, letting the words hang for a second. “Alright, girls—you put the brushes up your little fart-holes once, back they go! Slide them in nice and easy. I don’t expect you to jam them up there!”

Betty pouted but twirled the brush between her fingers, giving me a playful look. “Are we at least allowed to play with them once they’re in?” She sucked on the brush like it was a cock before slipping it effortlessly into her bum. I didn’t expect her to look pleased or turned on, but she smiled, nonetheless.

“Archie, don’t laugh,” Veronica said when it was her turn. “I’m sure you’ve put things up your bum for a laugh now and then, too,” she teased. She sighed, spit on the brush, pulled one cheek apart, and stuck it in. She didn’t look nearly as pleased – her pretty blue eyes opened wide, and then she adjusted to it. I think the only discomfort she felt was the humiliation of sticking something up her butt in front of her little brother.

I don’t think either girl would have thought twice about doing it in front of a cute boy that they liked to turn him on. Their mom had been right about one thing. They weren’t modest about their bodies. They were still capable of being humiliated though.

Archie folded his arms, grinning. “It’s Mister Archie to you, and don’t let me catch either of you humping your brushes. It’s supposed to be a punishment!” he frowned.

“Mister Archie,” she corrected, though the words sounded bitter on her tongue. I felt it might be a bigger drain on Veronica’s ego to have to call her little brother “Mister Archie” than it was for her to have a toothbrush up her butt in front of both of us.

Even though neither of the girls looked all that uncomfortable, it seemed a bit anticlimactic once they accepted this was going to be their new normal—at least until they could butter up the Pizza delivery guy.

It was still hot watching the toothbrush jiggle between their tight little asses while they walked around their house. I hadn’t wanted to give them forty swats with a paddle – I had barely made it through giving them a few, so to me – this was a much better punishment for everyone. The girls could be worried they might get a hard paddling, and I’d get to watch them walk around like they had pink tails sticking out of their peach-shaped butt cheeks.

Even if they managed to get a reprieve from the Domino’s guy, I would have taught them a lesson in humility that they wouldn’t forget anytime soon. The very fact that they allowed me to tell them to put the brushes back up their asses and walk around with them in front of us – meant they respected my authority. The fact that they might grumble and question my decisions but that they accepted our teasing and didn’t shoot back snarky comments or rebel against my authority meant they ACCEPTED that authority was genuine and legitimate.

They did what Archie told them because I had delegated some of that authority to him – but I could have taken it away as well.

That was the lesson I wanted to drive home – I was the babysitter, and they were the BABIES being sat.

[EddieDavidson]

chapter 3 illustration

[EddieDavidson]

A few easter eggs in this illustration as well.

[EddieDavidson]

It would be awesome if the malware dude who keeps bumping posts would fall off the planet, lol.


Does anyone have a preference for this story/things they want to see happen? I've been trying to keep it light and fun, but I also feel like these are the kind of girls who would definitely fuck if they got the chance.

[PhilMarlowe]

I think they would jump at any opportunity to fuck or be fucked, no matter what the risk.

[jojo12026]

What would I like to see happen? The malware dudes/dudettes would go straight to hell!

[EddieDavidson]

I was about to leave the bathroom when I noticed one of the pictures on the wall. It was of a nude brunette and blonde in a bathtub. At first, I assumed it was my cousins, Betty and Veronica. They had plenty of pictures of themselves scattered around the house, and it looked like it could’ve been their bathroom back in Surrey, England.

But this was an old photo. The caption read, “Alice and Sheridan, 1972.” It was my mom and my aunt—only a few years after I was born. I couldn’t figure out why they’d be sharing a bath at that point or why someone would’ve thought to snap a picture of them like that.

Archie caught me staring once the girls had left the bathroom. “Fancy looking’ at my mum’s bazookas or your mum’s arse?” he asked, grinning like he’d caught me getting turned on by our mom's nudity.

“Yeah,” I replied without hesitation, still staring at the picture. “But not because I’m into it. This photo was taken in 1972—that’s three years after I was born. I don’t get why they’d be sharing a bath at that point, let alone taking a picture of it.”

“Gives me a proper idea. If I am really your assistant, the girls should have to share a bath tonight rather than get to take it separately. They could fit snugly in our tub together. The way it normally works is I take a bath, then whichever one of them behaved themselves gets to go next while the water is still warm and relatively clean, and then whichever one of them gave Mum the hardest time of the night has to deal with the muck and cold water.”

“You are really my assistant, I appreciate your advice,” I said. I didn’t want to say that I had no clue how things were really supposed to work, and I didn’t want to look naïve. “That way, they both get clean, warm water, and no one is left with the mucky cold water.”

Archie frowned like I’d missed the point entirely. “I think the idea is to tease my sisters a bit, make ‘em flop about, and squeeze in together so they don’t get too full of themselves. If you allow girls to get too comfortable, they start thinking they’re entitled to shit like privacy and special treatment.” He gave me a sideways glance. “Girls don’t need modesty. Keeps ‘em in check when they know they’ve got nothing to hide.”

You think that’s what someone was doing with this picture? Making your mom and mine flop around with their tits out?” I asked, glancing back at Archie. The girls were out of sight—probably up to no good—but I had a few questions for my cousin I didn’t want them to hear. I wasn’t about to let on that. I had no clue how any of this was supposed to work. If they thought I wasn’t speaking from experience, and how would they accept that my decisions were fair, if I didn’t even understand how things worked?

Archie shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world to make girls bathe together. “They were close back in Surrey, weren’t they? Girls don’t have modesty like that, not in our family. It’s just a snap. It’s not much different than when you see those tribal women in Africa with their tits out on National Geographic. No one makes a fuss ‘cause it’s normal for ‘em to be walking about with their hams out.”

“So, if someone walked in while you were taking a piss and took a picture of your dick, then that would be a violation of privacy, though?” What Archie told me about tribal women resonated with me. That was their normal – to walk around with their tits out. But I was still curious how things worked in Archie’s world. I’d always been taught guys, and girls should have the same expectations when it came to privacy. But it didn’t work that way in my aunt’s house—and, obviously, not in how my mom was raised either.

“What are you on about, mate?” He shook his head like it was the dumbest question he’d ever heard. “Obviously, for a guy, it’s different. A bloke’s meant to have some dignity—you don’t just flash your dick around like it’s nothing. You’d be a streaker, or a flasher, wouldn’t you? But girls? Everyone knows what tits look like. My sisters’ itty-bitty titties aren’t large enough to warrant more than a laugh.”

My aunt had playboy-sized jumbo tits, but as far as I could tell, my cousins had cute peach-shaped tits that were perfectly well-developed for girls their age. I wouldn’t call them flat-chested at all.

“You don’t put pants on a dog just ‘cause you wear ‘em. Girls aren’t supposed to wear trousers, either. In America, we see it all the time. It’s been giving my sisters uppity ideas, so it’s refreshing to have a sitter that isn’t either trying to hump my sisters or let them get away with bloody murder.”

I nodded and turned to him, “I appreciate that, Archie.”
He paused, then added, “Back home, lads at the construction site take their shirts off when it’s hot—no one bats an eye. That’s normal for men on the construction site. It’s hot, sweaty work, and no one gives a fig. Out in the British farm country, for girls —tops off, tits out when there is work to be done. It’s not a big deal.”
I glanced at Archie, still trying to wrap my head around it. “So… is it meant to normalize women’s tits, so they aren’t sexual, or is it meant to humiliate the girls?”

I felt like it was the latter, but I couldn’t entirely be sure. In the case of men on a construction site, it’s perfectly normal and not sexual at all – at least not to me. I glanced at Archie, still trying to piece it all together. “So… is it meant to humiliate them, having their tits on display? Or is that just normal for them?”

My cousin raised an eyebrow like it wasn’t a tricky question, and he was telling me what I already knew. “It’s normal to humiliate and embarrass girls a bit, yeah,” he said matter-of-factly. “Teasing is normal. Mum and I do it out of love. I think if we stopped and didn’t care enough to give wind them up for their tarty attitudes, they’d think we don’t care.”

“Could you be supportive and just accept that they like sex and showing off their bodies without making rude comments about them?”

“Are you taking the piss?” Archie asked. I wasn’t familiar with that expression, and since we were in the bathroom, I thought he was asking me if I had to use the restroom. “Guys are expected to be responsible; you don’t thrive on attention, and the girls are vain little twats who have to have their egos fed. You heard them; they wouldn’t have thought twice if they could flash their arse and cunnie to him when he rings up with a pizza. They are worried he’ll have a laugh when he sees what they’ve got stuffed up their holes and find out why.”

I nodded and told him I was just trying to make sure we were on the same page.

“Yeah, girls love attention, but if no one calls them out for their shit, they start thinking that it doesn’t stink. Teasing them is like a public service to keep them from getting too full of themselves.”
“So, you don’t think it’s cruel to punish them this way?”

“It’s much crueler to let them behave like utter trollops who’ve no one to tell them no or keep them from being lazy brats! Just the other day, Archie rolled his eyes like he didn’t even have to think hard for an example. “I told both of them to bring me a cup of tea while I was watching TV. Simple enough, right? They show up an hour later—it’s cold. And Betty? She drank half of it on the way, said she ‘just wanted to make sure it wasn’t too hot.’” He shook his head, clearly still annoyed.
“Did you tell your mom?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, smirking. “She made them both stand in the corner for an hour, bare-assed, while I drank my tea the right way. And when I was done, she gave them ten swats, each with the paddle that bears your mum's name for being lazy little twats.” He chuckled. “Didn’t hear a peep from them after that, and the next time I asked for tea, it was piping hot with the milk just how I like it.”

I could definitely picture that scenario happening. “So, basically, they’re constantly punished just for being born with tits and a cunt?”

“Is that how it is at your place? It’s not that strict here, mate. “Is that how it is at your place? Girls are flighty, egotistical, and lack ambition. They’d rather stay in bed fingering themselves than do any proper work. I think it’d be cruel and pointless to punish my sisters just for being born like barmy cows. They can’t help it; they were born thick-headed. If they were punished just for waking up with tits and slits, nothing they did would ever matter, and they would probably spit in my tea every time. although, after seeing how they treated my toothbrush, I am not so sure they don’t.”

I liked the phrase “slits and tits” because it rhymed. I wondered if he had thought of that on the fly. British people seemed quite clever with a turn of phrase. I snickered and said we aren’t quite that strict at my house either, but I kind of wished we were.

“Aye, my sisters are a handful, but I love them loads, and I wouldn’t have them any other way. The teasing and discipline is good for them. Are you asking me all this because you’re worried, I’d feel sorry for ‘em, having those brushes up their bums?” He chuckled. “Honestly, I noticed a change in their attitudes straight away. I wish they had to harpoon their holes with those brushes every night—not just when you babysit. It’s not like I am ever going to use mine again, and I doubt Mum would anyway. The brush would find more use adjusting their attitude than in the trash.

“Well, thank you, Archie!”

“And not for nothing, Mr. Dalton, but I think Mum will have you back again. The girls are behaving for you far better than they were the last two sitters. We should probably check on them before they get into another randy mess out in the living room – but I did have one more question for you.”

Go ahead,” I said, curious about what Archie had on his mind. “I was just making sure I wasn’t being too strict on the girls.”

“I was curious because I think you might be spoiling them a bit. You aren’t REALLY going to let my sisters have pizza when the delivery guy comes, are you?” Archie asked, his eyebrows raised like I’d lost my mind. “I heard you say you were ordering a pizza for all of us.”

“Sure, why not?” I was genuinely puzzled and wanted to know why they had to be that strict with the girls.

Archie looked at me like I’d just sprouted a second head. “You let your sister have pizza, candy, soda, and treats at your place, do ya?” He shook his head. “Girls are meant to have water and cold, plain food—nothing too fancy. Nourishing, yeah, but nothing that spoils them. We don’t have pizza often. Mum would let them have leftover crusts at best, just to keep from wasting them.”
I was surprised they were so strict – I felt a bit sorry for the girls. “Actually, with my sister, I am not in charge of her diet, but if it were up to me, I’d make her do a little dance for her supper, maybe rub her tummy and pat her head while spinning in circles, and then eat from the garbage,” I said. It might actually be funny to watch my stuck-up older sister get knocked down a peg. I was technically not lying, though, because my sister ate whatever was served for dinner, and I wasn’t in charge of that.

The girls were dancing around, probably playing with the toothbrushes, when we walked into the living room. Betty and Veronica’s hands moved quickly away from their crotches. I didn’t catch them playing with themselves. At least my cousins were afraid of being caught.

“We are really going to have Dominos? I take back what I said about you, Mister Dalton! I’ll tell Mum you are the best babysitter ever!” Betty hugged me.

Veronica wasn’t far behind, pressing her bare chest against mine as she wrapped her arms around me. “Can we have sausage on our pizza? I love sausage!”
The double entendre was pretty obvious—she clearly meant cock.

It was going to be tough breaking it to my cousins that they weren’t getting any. I decided the best approach was the direct one, but I had an idea that I wanted to try. It would depend on how they reacted to being told “no” they aren’t getting what they want.

“Ooey-gooey cheese!” Betty giggled as they let go, twirling around the living room, their little pink brushes wiggling in their bums like tiny flamingo tails.

“You think you’re getting pizza?” My voice was flat, with no room for misunderstanding. This was going to be the hard part for me. I really didn’t care if the girls got pizza or not. I just didn’t want to come off like a softie. If they weren’t spoiled brats, I’d be getting them the sausage they wanted.

Betty’s grin faltered. “But… you said—”

“I said WE were getting pizza,” I cut in sharply, nodding toward Archie and me. “You are girls. You might get some crusts if you behave at dinner.”

“But… but…” Betty stammered, her disbelief clear as she pouted and even stomped her foot in frustration.

I gave her bare bottom a light pat and mimicked her stuttering with a smirk, “Butt… Butt!”

Archie let out a laugh, clearly enjoying the show. The fact that neither girl did more than fume was evidence to me that Archie hadn’t been pulling my leg. They didn’t usually get pizza for dinner. I picked up the house phone and dialed the local Dominos. In the 1980s, delivery in 30 minutes or less was a novel concept, and it was all the rage.

I knew the number to the local delivery place by heart. “Hello, Dominos? One extra-large sausage pizza, oh yes, extra cheese, please!” I made my order and provided my aunt’s home address.

“We’re supposed to flirt with the pizza guy, show him these toothbrushes,” Veronica tapped the brush in her butt while glaring at me, “And we don’t even get to eat it after all that? I’m telling Mum you’re a right proper meanie, Mr. Dalton! You and Archie can’t finish a whole pizza by yourselves! And you got the one topping we both wanted?” She folded her arms, lips pursed in a pout.

I held up a finger, ticking off each point like I was explaining something obvious to a pair of slow learners. “First, you’re showing him the brush because you were eager enough to stick them up your bums in the first place. Second, if he thinks you’re being punished too severely, then you can take them out. And third—if you don’t want to butter him up and tease him like you did to me when I first got here, that’s no skin off my ass.”

Veronica’s smirk faltered, and she shifted with a soft huff, the brush wobbling between her ass cheeks. It was hard to take my eyes off of it. I wondered how it must feel to them.

“Second, you were both being punished for playing with yourselves, with your mom’s dildo, no less!” I pointed at Veronica before reminding Betty. “And you went out of your way to drag me into your mom’s room just to get your sister in deeper trouble.”

“Yeah… we might’ve messed about a bit when you first got here,” she admitted, glancing down before meeting my eyes again. “Didn’t think you’d be this strict, Mister Dalton. But… you’re being fair.” Her tone wasn’t snarky—just a grudging acknowledgment that they’d pushed their luck and were lucky to be avoiding a harsher punishment.

Betty wriggled beside her, her pout softening into a sheepish grin. “We were just having a laugh at first… didn’t think we’d end up here,” she muttered, wincing as she shifted. “But we will behave now. Promise.” She shot me a hopeful look. “And if the pizza bloke feels bad for us… maybe a little slice for being good?”

I didn’t expect that reaction from them. It was a good sign, but I wasn’t finished testing THEM yet. They had tested me when I first arrived and found that I was just like every other guy – well, it was my turn to evaluate my cousins.

“Third, you asked to use the bathroom during your punishment, which I graciously allowed, and what did you do? You made me and your brother wait outside like idiots, acting like you deserved privacy. At the same time, you shoved your mom’s and his toothbrushes into your dirty little holes to get yourselves off. And now you’ve got the audacity to ask for an entire slice of pizza—each?”

Betty squirmed beside her, her grin fading into something more tentative. “It’s just… we didn’t think the punishment would go this far,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “We were out of line—proper out of line—but we’re trying to make it right.” She glanced at Veronica, then back at me, her eyes flickering with a mix of guilt and that ever-present mischief. “We’ll take whatever you decide. But… if we can earn it, we’ll try our best.”

That was what I wanted to hear. I tried not to smile. I glowered like I was at my wit’s end with the two of them. “Fine, IF you want a slice of pizza, then you have to earn it by providing us with some entertainment! However, first, I want to establish some new rules when I am here – whether I am babysitting or visiting.”

The girls blinked in surprise. They didn’t expect me to lay out any rules.

“From now on, when I babysit, you’ll strip off immediately when I arrive, and if I stop by to visit, I want you to take off your clothes. Girls shouldn’t have modesty, and there is no sense in either of you wearing them around me or your brother.”

“Oh no! Naked every time you babysit?” Veronica asked with mock indignation, a grin already tugging at her lips. “You’ll get tired of seeing us starkers, Mister Dalton. We’ve got cute faces and a couple of holes, but it’s really nothing you need to make a rule about. We’d strip down if you ask nicely, anyway.”

“I am not asking; I am telling,” I reminded her of what her mother tells her all the time when she questions her. It just so happened that my own mom used that same line on me.

“Wait a second, are you saying anytime we get home from school, we have to strip because Archie is here as well, and we can’t even go in the backyard in panties any longer? We are always nude at home? Or just when you visit, Mr. Dalton?” Betty asked. I hadn’t said ANY of that.

I could see how what I said could have been misconstrued that way, but that wasn’t my intention at all. The girls liked being naked, and I decided to give them a reason. Their mom could always override me, so I decided to run with the suggestion – thinking Betty secretly wanted a reason to strip off, anyway.

I also just wanted to see them naked.

“You love being naked, and neither of you girls deserve or earned modesty, so unless your mum tells you otherwise, there is no point in soiling panties with your quim juice to cover those dirty bums and wet pussies!” I said. I looked at Archie, and he didn’t say anything back – but he didn’t complain either.

“What happens if we want to have friends over, or Archie—I mean, Mister Archie—has his friends over? We usually slap some clothes on. It’s not like we want to, but a lot of our friends would think we’re proper nymphomaniacs if we’re starkers 24/7,” Betty countered.

“Yes,” I said flatly. “You can have friends over, but the rules don’t change. You can warn them that you strip at home, but you’ll keep your cute little butts uncovered and on display. I want your quims and tits out, chins up, and smiles on your pretty faces! You don’t get to switch modesty on and off when it’s convenient.”

The girls seemed perplexed and puzzled but strangely flattered. “You think we are pretty?” Betty asked – surprisingly vulnerable.

They were cute girls, and their British accent made them even more attractive to me. They were underclassmen, but I would have definitely considered both of them out of my league even as a senior. I was surprised Betty didn’t see herself as pretty.

“Don’t be daft, he means you have a munter face, but he’d tell you what you want to hear, so you’d suck his balls and give him a little head. Girls like us are not meant to be glamorous or some lad’s grand obsession. We have cute bums and are just good for a laugh, a little slap and tickle, and a quick nosh,” Veronica clearly didn’t want her sister to let my words go to her head.

I got the impression from the expression on Betty’s face that she’d been taught to remain humble, because she immediately acknowledged what Veronica said. It occurred to me that I shouldn’t praise the girls, because every time I did, they seemed to lose respect for me.

I decided to do the opposite. Even though I thought they were cute – it hadn’t panned out well when I complimented them. They either didn’t believe I was sincere or took me as someone who just wanted to jump their bones.

“Look, I am not trying to blow smoke up your asses; you are both too young for me. You have cute faces, and tits. You aren’t supermodels, but you aren’t ugly hose beasts, either. I don’t want you to get huge egos, which is why I want you butt naked when I arrive, and that means sitting on the floor and eating off the floor.”

“We love being naked; you’ll get no argument from us to strip down at the door. I guess it’s just odd that we HAVE to do it when usually we are the ones asking if we can. Mum gets tired of seeing our naked bums, and you may as well, b-u-u-u-tttt we don’t EAT off the floor; we sit our bare bums on the kitchen floor and eat off plates. We aren’t dogs,” Betty explained. It was perfectly normal to sit on the floor naked while eating dinner, but it was outrageously absurd to suggest eating on all fours.

Which makes sense, if you understand that my cousins were raised to believe that girls don't need modesty, and that it's normal to sit on the floor so you don't get your pussy juices and butt sweat on the chairs and couches.

“If you want pizza, you’ll both eat on all fours, like dogs,” I decided. “if you don’t, you can sit on your fat asses and eat like you normally would but mind those brushes because they stay in the entire time.”

“I’d almost forgotten I even had the brush up my bum,” Betty looked over her shoulder at the pink brush dangling out of her tail hole.

Veronica’s expression told me she had almost forgotten as well. “I don’t mind it so much; it’s not going to stretch out our bottom hole?” she asked.

“Yeah, your poo will slide right out, and you won’t be able to close up your gaping arse hole, Sis,” Archie ridiculed his sister.

“No, your cute little hole will be just fine. It’s a punishment, and as you said, you may walk a bit, which is funny, but you aren’t sitting down flat on it. You want to eat, or sit, you’ll do it on all fours. That’s the choice for dinner. If you two cows want some pizza, you’ll entertain us and crawl like pups,” I smiled.

I fully expected the girls to explode, and I was prepared to remind them that I was the boss, and their mother had put me in charge.

“You’d find it funny to watch us crawling about like pups barking and yapping?” Betty asked, clearly confused and seemingly bewildered. She blinked up at me like she couldn’t quite wrap her head around the idea, as if the whole thing felt silly – but not that she was ready to put up any resistance to it.

I was the babysitter, after all.

I didn’t bother answering right away. I figured the doing would answer that question for her soon enough. I thought maybe—just maybe—it’d knock them down a peg and give them the humbling they clearly needed. But I didn’t say that. I just watched, waiting to see how long it’d take for the reality to sink in.

“He wouldn’t find it sexy, that’s for sure. I told you, all we are good for is a laugh and a joyride,” Veronica added.

“It’ll keep you two humble and make us smile; what’s the harm in that?” I said.

“Eat like dogs? And bark and yap? You mean without use of our hands?” Betty scrunched her nose in disgust. I had assumed that was how they ate from the floor. “I’d rather ride your dick and make out, thank you very much.”

I was definitely tempted to take her up on that offer. I don’t know why I said what I did.

“Your mum said you are to do whatever I tell you, and I’ve decided that you’ll both be our dogs. Let’s go outside in the backyard so I can show you what I mean. It’ll be good for you to find out that not every guy is motivated by a desire to have your quim juice on his cock.”

I was confused by my own actions – I definitely would have enjoyed fucking my cousins. We were related, but I barely knew them, and they were hot.

“Arf, Arf, Munters!” Archie harumphed, pointing at the carpet with a smug grin. “Go on, down you get—on all fours like the good little pups you are.” His tone was dripping with condescension like he was explaining something to a pair of thick-headed toddlers.

Betty and Veronica exchanged a quick glance, their faces flushing, but they didn’t argue. Slowly, they dropped to their hands and knees, the toothbrushes sticking out from between their cheeks, wobbling with the movement. I don’t know why it turned me on so much to watch two cute girls be crestfallen and embarrassed as they obediently crawled on the carpet.

They were reluctant, sure, but they weren’t about to test me. I got the impression they were used to following orders – and despite the absurdity of this one, they did as they were told.

“Legs further apart,” I tapped Betty’s thighs apart lightly with my shoe. She looked up at me and pouted. “Arf once for yes,” I said as I tapped the brush between her parted cheeks.

“Woof,” she blushed.

It was hard to imagine these very introverted girls, who thought very little of being naked, being genuinely embarrassed. Their blushing cheeks were no act – they were mortified.

I’d arrived fairly early because my aunt had scheduled her “date” to start early. In retrospect, I believe she may have asked me to come early in case I backed out so she'd have time to try to find another sitter. It was just approaching sunset, and we had a little more than thirty minutes we could spend outside before the pizza guy was supposed to be there.

I assumed I could give the girls an 'attitude adjustment' in that time, and 30 minutes would be enough time for my cousins to have their egos popped by acting like cute little puppy girls in the backyard.

The fence wasn’t exactly tall, and if any neighbors happened to glance out, they’d have a show. I paused at the door, glancing back at the girls.

“As long as you stay down on all fours, you should be fine,” I said with a smirk.

They crawled forward, their bare skin dragging over the carpet before they reached the doorway. The girls said nothing as we walked next to them. The cool evening air hit them as they shuffled outside; the rough concrete of the patio was probably very hard on their knees.

I didn't want to hurt them - just tease them. I hurried the girls into the grass. I didn't think about the possibility that they may develop grass itch when their bare skin came into contact with it.

“Are we not…” Betty began to ask a question as she turned her head to me. She seemed clearly worried. I smiled sadistically - that was the reaction that I wanted.

These girls were obvious extroverts with no qualms about their own nudity. They were clearly difficult to humiliate, but it wasn't impossible.

I cut her off with a sharp look. “Bark, Betty.”

She hesitated, then let out an awkward, half-hearted “Arf.”

Archie growled. “That’s pathetic. Proper dogs, you lot. Let’s hear it.”

Veronica rolled her eyes but gave in, louder this time. “Arf, arf!” It still sounded stiff, but the blush on her cheeks told me it was sinking in.

I crouched down and grabbed a stick from the lawn. “Fetch! Pups!”

They hesitated, but then I thwacked their cute butts with the next stick and told them we could play smack the ass, or they could fetch.

The girls looked at each other, almost as if they were silently confirming that the other wasn’t going to rebel or protest. They crawled forward, their bums swaying, toothbrushes bobbing like little tails. They moved slowly through the high grass.

“It’s about time for you slags to mow the grass again,” Archie observed. He was becoming a stickler and getting into this game with his sisters relatively easily. I call it a game now because it wasn't the lesson in humility that I hoped it would have been.

I would have questioned a babysitter, making my sister bark like a dog in the backyard – Archie just rolled with it.

“Do your sisters do the lawn work?” I asked. Mine definitely didn't. That was seen as "men's work," and by that, I meant that my little brother and I did most of it.

“Not always. Mum says that it’s more trouble than it’s worth to make them do it, so she often ends up doing it herself on her days off,” he said. He never suggested that he mow his own lawn.

I called to the girls that they needed to hurry, and told them we were getting bored. Betty had the stick in her mouth, navigating the tall grass in the backyard to crawl back to us with it. I tossed another stick so that Veronica could fetch it.

“Fetch it, girl,” I teased playfully as I pointed in the direction, I wanted them to crawl – the yard was dominated by a single large tree. It was mostly grass, weeds, and fence – plenty of room to run around.

“Look at you two, wagging your arses like right proper mutts. Might as well stick a collar on ya!” Archie ridiculed his sisters.

“Do you have something we could use for collars?” I assumed that it may humiliate them a little further.

At first, Archie suggested duct tape, but when the girls got back Betty had an idea. “I’ve some headbands in our room that may make a proper collar, would you like me to go get it?” she offered helpfully.

“The last time I sent one of you to fetch something in the house, I found you masturbating on the floor with your mother’s dildo, tell me where it is, and I’ll go get it.”

Betty told me where to look, and I dashed inside, leaving Archie chucking sticks across the yard. For a second, I thought I’d walked into the wrong room. It was tiny—barely bigger than a closet—and cramped, with just one small bed shoved against the wall. The furniture was sparse, with a single dresser and a shared closet crammed into the corner. No TV, no decorations, just the basics. I rummaged around until I spotted two headbands tucked in a drawer—one red, one orange—perfect for what I had in mind.

As I passed Archie’s room, it was hard not to notice how much better he had it. He had a full-size bed, not one of those dinky twin things, with a TV tucked in the corner—it looked like one of those newer color sets, too. His Atari 2600 was hooked up, joysticks tossed on the floor, and cartridges scattered everywhere. I spotted Pac-Man, Space Invaders, and even Pitfall sitting in a messy pile. Star Wars posters were slapped all over the walls—Luke, Vader, the whole lot—like he’d raided the back of a comic bookstore. The place was basically a shrine to every cool thing a kid could want.

Archie's room was MUCH better than mine!

When I got back, I could see their embarrassment fading. Archie tossed an old tennis ball he found, and the girls were trying to pick it up with their teeth while laughing because they couldn’t. “I can’t budge it, Archie!”

“Mutts with minges don’t talk, and it’s Mister Archie,” he chucked another tennis ball at his sister, barely missing her ass. She giggled and made a woof sound. “Push it back with your turned-up pig nose then, you lazy mongrel!”

The girls were giggling over the absurdity of it all. I’d meant to humble them, but now they were acting like it was the best game they’d ever played. I stepped out into the yard while they crawled back toward the patio, still chuckling, toothbrushes bobbing with every movement. It was a perfect evening for us to do this – not too hot, not too cool.

Betty craned her neck up toward me, her grin wide and shameless. Her hair was a mess, strands sticking out at odd angles, but she didn’t seem to care. I took the red headband and slid it over her head, pulling it down snugly around her neck. She tilted her chin, giving me just enough room to adjust it. The elastic clung tight, pressing against her skin, but not so much that it’d cut off circulation. Just enough to make sure it wouldn’t slip off, no matter how much she wriggled or wagged her so-called tail.

“There,” I muttered, giving it a little tug to make sure it stayed put. “Fits like a charm.”

Betty giggled again, wiggling her shoulders. “Feels proper snug, Mister Dalton. Might not come off even if I tried.”

I spanked her butt and reminded my cousin to bark. It was abundantly clear to me that her pussy was dripping wet, and she giggle-barked her compliance.

Now you’ve gone and done it, Mr. Dalton,” Archie chuckled, eyeing the girls as they crawled around with their new collars. “Look at ‘em—proper Crufts show dogs now, aren’t they? Not the scruffy little fleabags they were five minutes ago.”

“I want one, I want one,” Betty headed toward me, and before I could smack her behind, she barked a few times playfully at me and wagged her ass. The brush almost fell out, and she reached behind herself and pushed it in a little deeper. I attached her collar, and she preened pridefully, showing off as she sauntered back and forth on all fours.

I noticed after a bit of practice; the girls were starting to move quicker on all fours than when they first got outside. They loosened up, and giggled, while playing together. Archie stuck plastic shovels and toys in the ground that the girls were able to push with their nose, and play over like real dogs, growling and panting at one another.

It was odd, because I fully expected the girls to be deeply humiliated. My cousins obviously believed they HAD to do what I said. I concluded that they were making the best of an embarrassing situation or they were simply having a good time roleplaying as dogs in their backyard – make believe tooth brush tails and all.

Their natural lack of modesty had a lot to do with it because their pussies were dripping, their tits were jiggling, their assholes were on display, and they had no consideration for how silly they looked once they got over the absurdity of it – they were sweaty and giggly.

Betty leaped over an ant pile, pushing off her back feet like a little jackrabbit. That gave me an idea.

“Alright, enough of the lazy crawling,” I called out, stepping forward. “Betty, that little hop wasn’t half bad. Let’s see you both prance like proper show dogs.”

They glanced at each other, unsure, but I waved them on. “Keep your backs arched, push off those knees, and bring those front paws up high. I want to see you bounce.”

They started moving, lifting their hands higher with each step, pushing off their knees with more force. Their hips swayed, and with every little bounce, their boobs jiggled, swaying side to side like they were on display. Betty’s breasts bounced more wildly with each spring while Veronica tried to keep pace, her chest shaking with every quick step. The toothbrushes wobbled in rhythm with the rest of them, making the whole scene look ridiculous—and exactly how I wanted it.

I tossed the stick across the yard, and they scrambled after it, that competitive streak kicking in despite themselves.

“That’s it, Veronica—never thought I’d see you this well-trained! You aren’t purebred, but you make a better dog than a sister! WOOF!”

“I am a good doggy AND a good sister, Mister Archie,” Betty pouted. We didn’t scold them for occasionally talking as long as they punctuated their sentences with a bark or two. I didn’t think much of the observation at the time because we were laughing and joking around, and Betty had said it so casually.

Archie’s response floored me. He leaned forward, grinning like he had Betty right where he wanted her, and critiqued her.

I quickly surmised that there were two ways to get through to the girls. You could offer them free stuff, stroke their egos, and that’d work a little. But if you really wanted to get them going? You humiliated them. Teased them. Pointed out how they looked, how they acted—especially if you called them plain or unappealing. If you really wanted to see them, try? You compared them to each other.

The more you told them they weren’t cutting it, the more they bent over backward to prove you wrong. Put them side by side, make them compete for a little attention, and they’d go all out. I wasn’t sure if Archie had that figured out from the start or if he just stumbled into it, but observing how Betty offered to be a better sister while humiliating herself – I realized she meant it.

That’s when it clicked. That was the trick—they ate it up, and it kept them right where we wanted them. “You’d make a better dog if your nose was lower to the grass, your arse higher in the air, and my former toothbrush that’s now your tail was wagging’ like your chin when you are nattering on.”

He let that sink in before adding, “But as for being a good sister?” He snorted, shaking his head. “You’d be a better one if you got my tea without whining, stopped running your gob about what you wanted every five seconds, and maybe—just maybe—mowed the grass without being told three bloody times.”

Betty smirked; she found his criticism endearing. Her pretty blue eyes glinted with that same bratty pride. The grin tugging at the corner of her mouth gave her away. She let out a playful bark, wagging her hips and throwing him a wink like she was proud of herself. Then, just to drive it home, she panted like a dog, stuck her ass up higher, and gave an exaggerated little shake, the toothbrush wobbling with it. She shot Archie a nod—whether it meant she’d try harder or just loved pushing his buttons, I wasn’t sure. Probably both.

He wasn’t done. “And while you’re at it, you could stop nickin’ the last biscuit, quit leaving your crap all over the house, and for once, just once, remember to shut the door behind you.”

Betty pouted, and she stuck out her bottom lip like she was actually offended now that he brought up biscuits. “Woof! I’ll try harder, Mister Archie!” she chirped, giggling as she shot him a cheeky grin. She tilted her head, panting dramatically like a happy little pup. “But I think I prefer bein’ a puppy. It’s proper fun. She barked again, louder this time, wagging her hips like she was strutting her stuff at a dog show. “You should strip off and come play!”

“Someone’s gotta throw the stick and keep you two fleabags from biting the hand that feeds you—or digging your way through the fence,” Archie teased, grinning like his role was some great sacrifice. He looked down at Betty like she was really just a dumb mutt; needing constant minding.

[[[ image 04_owned.jpg goes here centered ]]]

Betty let out a playful bark, wagging her hips. “It’s kinda liberating, though, innit?” she giggled, glancing up at him. “Just romping about, chasing after sticks…” She paused, giving him a cheeky grin. “But don’t worry, Mister Archie—I wouldn’t trade places with you. Bein’ the puppy’s way more fun.”

The girls frequently got in each other’s faces, and sniffed each other or growled playfully – it was almost like they were going to kiss one another.

Veronica rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smirk creeping onto her face. “It’s bloody embarrassing,” she muttered, glancing down at herself, “but I’ll admit—it’s actually a lot of fun.” She nudged Betty with her shoulder, then looked up at Archie with a playful glint. “So, who’s the better sister then, Archie? I seldom ever complain about making your tea, you know!” She stuck her tongue out at him, but the teasing in her voice was unmistakable.

“You lot could start being proper sisters; by addressing me as Mister Archie and barking like the mutts you are pretending to be,” he scowled as he tossed another stick for the two of them to chase. “You’re more like one of those lazy lap dogs—cute but needs a good kick up the arse to get moving.”

I was enjoying watching them go at it, but I nearly lost my nerve when I spotted a neighbor on the other side of the fence. He was out watering his hedges, standing just close enough that he could probably see—or even hear—the girls if he paid any attention. But if he noticed anything, he didn’t let on.

You want to know who’s the better sister?” Archie asked, shaking his head like the answer was obvious. “Neither of you is worth much in that department. You are about as obedient as sisters as you are as dogs. Mum and I have to throw a stick to get you to do anything, and you are as likely to stop and sniff each other’s arses as you are to finish the job you are on.”

I thought that was funny. The girls pretended to sniff each other’s butts playfully. I wanted to warn Archie that the neighbor might hear him, but I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

[EddieDavidson]

I hope people are enjoying this story/it meets the standard of "modesty stories."

I truly intended to be two chapters max. I had so much fun writing the characters that turned into five chapters.

Every time I go to write a "Short Story" I am at chapter five before I realize that I can't do it.

However, this morning, I was reading about Bianca Censori (Kanye West's Wife/Girlfriend) wearing a nude see-through dress at the Grammys and realized that my stories really aren't that over the top for the enshitification of our world.

A single titty sent the SuperBowl/world into a tizzy 20 years ago after Janet Jackson did it, but just walking around with your pussy out is seen as passe'.

I was thinking of a short story this morning;

"My Mom is a artist/model named Bianca, and my dad is a famous rapper." and it's about how Bianca got her daughter the same dress, but nobody noticed because she doesn't have huge tits/she is actually capable of humiliation.

I don't really have a brainstorm thread/creative outlet for brainstorming. I have a ton of ideas but no one to really bounce them off of. I have a few outstanding stories to finish.

There is another one that I particularly go back too which will have to be a much longer story. However, I don't know what I want to have happen in the story. I just have this notion;

It's 1977, the main character is flat-chested, freckle faced, has an adrogynous haircut (Which was all the vogue back then) maybe a Pixie Cut or Page Boy, and is on a National Lampoon Vacation style family vacation road trip.

When I was growing up, my father saw that movie more as an instructional manual than he did a comedy. "Happiness is fucking mandatory, you are all going to be so fucking happy you will be whistling zippidee doo-dah out of your assholes" was something he said in all sincerity. You load up the gas guzzler at 5am, and drive your ass off across the country to visit some family somewhere - that was my vacations. I'd draw inspiration from that experience/time period.

The general idea is that the main character is stuck with her Aunt Margaret, cousins and siblings, and most likely through some series of unfortunate events (forgetting the luggage) finds themselves with just panties in the backseat of Margaret's massive Mercury Monarch or Lincoln Continental. If you remember these cars, they were huge monoliths of inefficiency - basically tanks.

Seatbelts were optional back then, and the concept that girls (and guys) didn't need modesty was very real. Margaret insists that the main character sit back in the back in just the panties/boy shorts they have on, and stop whining, or she'll give her something to whine about. Stopping at truck stops, balls of twine, family she barely knows, the story would not be as over the top as some of my other stories.

It'd be more about "Your cousins want to ride the (25 cent horse that goes up and down) in front of the TG&Y while I shop. You stay here and keep an eye on them and don't let them get into any shenigans"

"But Aunt Margaret, I don't have a shirt"

"everyone will think you are a boy, anyway, just wait here, and stop worrying so much about people seeing your puffy-nubbies, no one cares, Justine. if I see a cheap shirt, I'll buy you one, if it'll stop your nattering, " and naturally Aunt Margaret forgets/doesn't.

I think that's the challenge for me - is writing a story where it doesn't have a constant fast paced tempo like Cousin's don't modesty, and I can just write these long, but realistic scenes - what do I put in them to make them enjoyable. If there is no sex, no specific challenges, not a lot of dialogue, beyond the set up...can i write something like that. I can definitely envision the story, just not necessarily my capability ot write it.

Same is true of the Bianca Censori's daughter story. I think it would be cool to hear from her (if she existed). "Mom, this is embarrassing"
"Your father wants us to wear it to promote his new album."
Her brother "No one is going to be looking at you anyway, Sis..mom is stacked"

[EddieDavidson]