Aunt Susan was hot, even compared to mom. I'd still choose mom, but to say that it wasn't a competition would be wrong. Susan was tall, even taller than me barefoot. She had strikingly blue eyes, fair skin, long straight black hair. Her body was slender, leggy and toned.
I always imagined she'd look incredibly sexy in anything that exposed her legs. The highlight was her slightly above average chest, it was not something you'd expect to see from a lady of her body type. Her tits were still perky, and her ass was tight.
You could say she was the poster girl for the independent woman, at least at this point in her life. Susan was married, from what I understand her husband believed the company of prostitutes was better than hers. Something I could hardly disagree with, Susan often had a knack of being unbearable. Inconceivably so, she criticised everything and everyone. A real-life Karen, often bringing my normally thick-skinned mom to tears.
Only a few people made her shut up, one of them my grandad passed away a few years ago. The other, grandma, who had already gotten sick of the years of dealing with her bitter attitude. The last, my dad who on the few occasions they were even in the same room. Would use her divorce as a point of attack for each jab she threw at anyone.
It had fallen to me to continue the tradition, but unlike my father, I planned on making this a harsh lesson. I'd grown bold, no longer afraid of my own power. I saw the havoc it could cause and dad was right, there were a few people who needed a good fucking. Susan was one of them, she'd always been this way.
Now here we are, her firmly expecting me to cower and fall in line like mom. It was time, time for all those years of abuse to return with full force. The first thing I needed to do was attack her pride, Susan believed herself the more behaved. The smarter one, the better one of all of us. Susan was wealthy, started her own company and did extremely well for herself. I didn't have any qualms to recognise she was competent, capable, and successful. It was the idea that she had to make everyone else believe it.
"Get on your knees Susan!" I ordered.
"I will do no such thing, Michael. I don't know what sick fantasy you have. Perhaps they've been propagated by your whore of a mother here but trust me. This disgusting behaviour ends today."
"Susan, I said get on your knees!" This was followed by my imagination.
Susan rolled her eyes, her last act of defiance before her body entered an almost trance like state. Immediately, she got on her knees.
"Good, so you've made mom look like a fool your whole life. I'm gonna give mom something to remember, you being treated like the slut that you are."
"I'm not a slut," Susan protested.
"Oh, you will be, you can count on that."
I looked at mom, who sat silently on the kitchen chair.
"Mom, we have rope don't we, in the garage."
"Yes sweetie, we do."
I smile at her, still being kind to me even as I'm about to abuse her sister.
"Get some for me, and once you return, take off all your clothes." It took a few moments for my orders to register. It felt like she was resisting. I looked back at her, and the second glance got her moving.
Susan was right in front of me, still trying to move. Her legs were not in her control, almost looked like they were glued to the floor. I admired her figure, her protruding bust and her scent. She wore a light sweater, jeans, and boots. Appropriate for the weather, but Susan had been rather conservative in how she dressed her entire life. Matter of fact, she often judged mom for being inappropriately dressed even though by the standard of my generation, she dressed moderately.
"Hmm, so aunt Susan. You really think this outfit makes you look attractive."
"It's none of your concern what makes me look attractive, Michael. Why can't I move, and why is your mother following your orders." I leaned down, meeting her gaze.
"You should really be more concerned with the orders I'm gonna make you follow. See, you're a bitch aunt Susan. I don't think anyone likes you, and the fact mom even listens to some of your horrible advice is beyond me. Today is the beginning of your rehabilitation. You're going to be taught some manners, taught your place, especially when you enter this house."
"Michael, stop your crass attitude this instant and..."
I stopped listening mid-sentence and left her there.
"Michael, come back here. I don't know how you've glued my legs to the floor. Michael!."
I entered mom's room, and opened her wardrobe. I needed something skimpy for her to wear, something that perhaps made her feel sexy. I searched until I found a pair of latex stockings.
"Why does mom have these?" Perhaps mom was much more provocative than I gave her credit for. I found some more crazy stuff, a couple one-piece string lingerie. There were a few pairs of crotchless panties. I took them alongside the latex stockings and a pair of stiletto heels. All in red, it was a great colour on her.
I returned downstairs and saw some mom standing next to my aunt. The rope placed neatly on the kitchen table. Susan kept mouthing off to mom. I wanted Susan to be fully conscious for most of this process. Not in the trance like state as those on the bus, I needed to do it slow, each step needed to happen with great detail.
As I got closer, I saw mom's body standing next to my aunt. It was still as wonderful as the first time, and it got me rock hard. I stood next to my aunt, her yammering getting on my nerves.
"Mom tie her up, oh and where are your panties?"
"I placed them on the chair, hun."
"Please go get them, I need you to shut her up. Ball them up, get some duck tape and stuff them in her mouth then tape it shut."
Mom did as I asked, and Susan lost her mind.
"Oh my god, No! Michael, please, listen, I get it, I can be difficult. Please don't make Jen put her panties in my mouth."
"It's a bit late for that, Susan."
"Michael, Mikey, let's talk about this."
"We were talking about it, now is not the time for talking, Susan, it's time for you to experience some shame. Embarrassment, something that goes beyond your divorce, you're going to be our slut today."
"Please Mikey, just let me go, I won't bother your mom or you any more."
This gave me flashbacks of when I offered to leave and never return. I can see now why dad enjoyed this, it was a power trip. It inflated your ego, mine was already at max. I was riding the high, enjoying the view from the top of the hill. Susan, needed to change her tune. By the end of this, I wanted her begging to be used by me and my mom. To do that, I needed to get her turned on. My powers didn't come with an instruction manual, but there's definitely logic to some of the madness.
Joleen was screaming 'fuck me!' pretty quick into her orders, and was even posing. Mom seemed to get off on the idea that she was taking care of me, something she loved doing. This means the sexual order is reinforced by the individual's own desires. So what did Susan love, well simple. I can order her to tell me, this counts as a sexual act for my pleasure.
"Mom, hold off on that order. Susan, tell me what turns you on. What gets you off the most, since you want to talk. I'll let you talk for a bit."
Susan resisted, probably the biggest level of resistance I've witnessed. Her face contorted, mouth strained to stay closed, funny how it wouldn't close all this time.
"Susan!" I yelled, as I grabbed a chair and sat in front of her.
"I...I...I.... I like being slapped hard, not just my ass but my tits and face. I like it when someone hits me, with a belt, whip, or a stick. The pain turns me on. I like it when they call me their baby and I call them daddy. I like being better than my sister, I like being told all my faults, even when you said I was a bitch, I got a little wet. I like being told what to do, and during sex I prefer to be fucked hard and deep. I like it when someone cums down my throat, because it's my reward and I deserve it."
Mom gasped, "oh my gosh Susan, you're"
"You're a daddy's girl," I finished mom's sentence. "You must terribly miss grandad." This fit really well, Susan wailed during his funeral. I thought it was a bit much, even for a girl who truly loved their father.
This revelation excited me, behind all that sense of accomplishment was someone with a desperate need to make her daddy happy. Maybe all of this was all a desperate need to make her dad happy, the uptight persona and micromanaging of her sister.
"Well Susan, today I'll be your daddy. As a matter of fact, I'll be your daddy from now on."
Susan covered her mouth, afraid of saying more. It was too late now, I knew her vulnerabilities. Time to attack.
"Mom continue with the previous order," I said before I held Susans arms.
"No Michael please....Micaaaaaaaa." The last muffled screams of my name before her mouth was filled with mom's panties. Mom then wrapped the tape around her lips.
"Mom put these on, you'll be her dominatrix for a bit."
"Yes Mikey."
I imagined my aunt getting off her knees, and undressing. While she wasn't too keen or excited, she did as I thought. Standing up and taking off her clothes. As soon as the order was completed, she started blushing uncontrollably.
I got the rope and started tying her up, placing her on the chair in the process. I decided to make sure her head lay over the back of the chair, with her butt jutting out the edge.
By the time I was done, mom was dressed in her sexy latex outfit.
"What was the first thing you said got you off, being slapped?"
I said before lightly slapping her face. Susan looked at me, her face full of disgust. Even hatred, I sensed her disdain. I knew that this was going to be a difficult process because I was trying to undo years of bitterness in one fucking, but it was going to be the most intense fucking she'd ever experienced.
'Slap!' I slapped her again, slightly harder than before. I wanted to make her mad, to fuel her emotions. There's a reason why sex with your worst enemy can feel just as good as sex with the one you love. The power dynamic Susan was used to, one where she's in charge, was being destroyed.
With, 'slap,' each, 'slap,' and 'slap,' every 'slap.'
"Mom." I almost forgot mom, who was standing there quietly with her hands and feet together. Her outfit was mesmerising, with her exposed breasts.
