Aunty's Naughty Niece

The next day, Lucy laid down the law. It was quite obvious that she was going to be in charge, but she decided to tell me in no uncertain terms. I may have been 34-years-old, and she a mere 18, but she was the boss and we both knew it.

"Right, Aunty Linda," she said, after breakfast had been cleared away, "let's get the rules decided on now. You, my dear aunt, will make all the minor decisions. You cook breakfast, you prepare lunch, you decide what we have for dinner, you decide what TV programmes we watch."

I nodded, warily. She was working up to something.

"I, on the other hand, will make the major decisions. I will decide what games we play. I decide what clothes - or no clothes, sometimes - you wear. I decide what adult videos we watch. And I institute the new regime you will adhere to while I'm staying, OK?"

I nodded, part of me boiling at her bossiness, part of me excited. There was a dampness in my panties I could not deny.

"Right, your clothing for starters," said Lucy. "You will always wear high heels - even on the days you have to go naked. Understood?"

I nodded again - days when I would have to go naked?

"Right, starting from today you will wear a different slave uniform each day. Sorry about the term, dear aunty, but a slave is what you're going to be to me, so we may as well get used to the term, right?"

I could hardly believe what my brain was hearing, or that my head was nodding in agreement. But Lucy was

such

a bossy little tart! "Yes dear," I heard myself replying.

"Right, well today is going to be your nude day, so get all your gear off, but keep the high heels on," she ordered.

"But the neighbours!" I protested.

"Be careful walking in front of windows," she snapped.

Obediently I stripped naked, but kept my high heels on. When I was nude, Lucy snapped her fingers: "Panties!"

I passed them to her. Lucy put them to her nostrils, inhaled, then ran her tongue along the gusset. Then a broad smile beamed across her pretty little face. "Just as I thought - they're sopping, you wicked old pervert, aunty," she laughed.

I felt my face turn crimson with the shame. She was turning me on, she knew it, I knew it.

"Right," said Lucy, continuing with her humiliating instructions. "Tomorrow is sexy lingerie day. Quarter-cup bras, crotchless panties, thongs, suspender belts, stockings, you get the picture. Got a good array of that sort of stuff?"

"Yes," I said, feeling ashamed to admit it, although I had no inkling of why I should feel shame.

"Day after lingerie day is bikini day. Got any sexy little bikinis?" asked my niece.

"No, darling," I said, "just one-pieces, but they're very nice."

"Cut the fucking crap, aunty," she almost bellowed. "It's bikinis from now on. Sling me a couple of hundred quid and I'll shop for some for you."

I went to my wallet in my handbag and passed her a bundle of notes

"Right, to tonight's viewing," she said. "You a member of that sex shop video club down on the corner?"

"Yes, Patrice and I would sometimes watch a lesbian movie," I said, referring to my Australia-migrating hussy of a former sex partner.

"Gimme the membership card and I'll pick a couple for us to watch tonight," Lucy demanded, clicking her fingers.

"Now, I have some more instructions for you to get your pretty little head around. When I appear wearing PVC or leather gear, it means we're going to play punishment games. On seeing me like that, you will hustle your pretty little arse up to the bedroom and await my pleasure. OK?"

I nodded.

Lucy moved on. "When I come into a room wearing a sexy little black silk playsuit, open at the boobs and crotch, it means I'm in a mood for sex. Similarly, you'll get your arse upstairs and wait for me. I won't be far behind you, gottit?"

I got it.

"And when I come in naked, what do you think that's a signal for?" she asked, quietly.

I shook my head, I had no idea.

"It's the signal for you to get upstairs into the bathroom for water sports," Lucy said, with an evil leer.

"Water sports?" I heard myself ask, incredulously.

"Water fucking sports, aunty," she repeated, "but don't worry, I won't make you drink it all the time, sometimes it'll be golden showers."

I shuddered, but Lucy saw that and jeered: "What's the matter, aunty? Scared of a little iddy bit of pee pee? Come on, the thought of my whip, my pussy and my piss is bringing you on in chunks, isn't it?"

I lowered my eyes, avoiding her gaze. "Yes, Lucy," I heard myself whisper.

"Right," she said, "I'm off to shop for us. Don't run away - and don't dare get dressed while I'm gone because it will really, really piss me."

It was almost 11 o'clock when Lucy walked out of the door, but I needed a drink, and poured myself a big Bombay Sapphire gin, the one with Queen Victoria's profile on the label. Queen Victoria, I thought, would not be amused at my predicament. Bemused, certainly, amused certainly not.

I started to prepare a hearty beef stroganoff for dinner, just to pass the time, and uncorked an excellent Chilean red to go with it. I had to do something to take my mind off Lucy and her instructions, her demands, her threats.

Part of me felt shame - revulsion, even - but part of me was thrilled and excited. The sex between us had been sensational, so sensational it had driven the thought of my lovely Patrice from my mind. Lucy was more lustily sexual than Patrice had ever been.

Even the electrically-charged flogging from her triple-thonged whip had been exciting. Her dildo had been a revelation to my crotch. But golden showers? I poured myself another Bombay gin, turning the bottle around so Queen Victoria's stern gaze would not see my turmoil.

Just after 1 o'clock, Lucy returned with two packages. One she placed on the kitchen table, the other she tossed to me. I peered inside. There were three bikinis - I say three, but I really mean two, one was simply an arrangement of strings almost as narrow as dental floss.

One was in black PVC, it looked tiny, both in the cups and in the thong section. The other was in shiny red metallic material and was equally tiny. Thank god I shave down there!

"I can't wear these, they're indecent," I blustered.

My entreaty fell on decidedly deaf ears. "Bullshit, aunty," said Lucy, "they're very sexy and I'm going to enjoy seeing you flounce around in them for me. Wear the PVC one on your first bikini day, the red metallic one the next bikini day and the string job on the third."

Then she passed me the other package. "See what you think about these - seen 'em, have you?"

I looked at the first videotape. It was titled It Never Rains But It Pours and was sub-titled "Penny takes the piss - straight from the pussy". It starred four very pretty girls I had never heard of, one of the four obviously being the "submissive".

"I've not seen that one," I said, placing it on the table with almost a shudder.

Lucy picked up on it. "Don't worry, aunty, it's not going to bite you!"

Then I looked at the other video, or DVD rather. It was titled Outlook: Showers, with the sub-title "Penny's descent into degradation continues". The same cast, the same sort of scenario, I guessed.

Lucy laughed: "The young man in the sex shop looked a little sideways at me when I plonked them down on his counter. I told him 'Don't worry, tiger, they're for me and my girl friend, but be careful and don't piss me off!' I don't think he saw the joke."

Then she pointed to the kitchen. "Time for lunch, make some sandwiches, I'm starving, all this shopping has given me an appetite."

We ate, sipping on a cold glass of white wine each, then Lucy announced she was off to change. My heart skipped a beat - what outfit would she choose? Or would it be no outfit at all, but nudity and a signal for the water sports? By now my heart was beating regularly, but with a pounding that seemed to echo through the kitchen.

Then Lucy was back, her lovely 18-year-old figure in a stunningly erotic outfit. Her breasts were thrown into wonderful uplift by a black leather, quarter-cup bra.

On her hips a black leather suspender belt gleamed black and lustrous. It held up shiny black stockings. She wore high heels, with lovely straps around her lower shins. Her pussy was naked, the little brown patch on her mons the only hair, her lush labia lips pink and gleaming with sex juice.

"Don't just sit there gaping, aunty," she grinned, as she saw me drink in her beauty. "Off upstairs with you, you lovely old slave, you!"

And I almost sprinted up the stairs and ran into my bedroom. I paced about, waiting for her arrival. The minutes ticked by. I was going to call out "I'm ready, Lucy", but I didn't know the etiquette of such a plea. Eventually, after about a quarter of an hour of heart-thumping waiting, I lay down on my belly on the bed, and buried my face in the pillows.

That was how she found me when she walked in, triple-thonged whip in hand. "Is this any way to greet your domina?" she snapped.

I turned, startled and climbed from the bed.

"Shoes on, slut!" ordered Lucy. I put them on.

"On your knees, put 'em well apart, now clasp your ankles."

Again I obeyed.

"That's better," she said, looking down at my garishly exposed position, my pussy totally open to her gaze. "Much more like a subby waiting for her mistress."

Then the flogger whistled down and struck me midway between pussy and breasts, then again. The charges were again like electricity as the implement of punishment did its wicked work.

Lucy next targeted my outer thighs, then inner thighs. Then she threw the whip onto the bed and stood astride my upturned face. Her voice, when she spoke, was a hiss: "Thank me!"

I opened my mouth and placed my tongue on her shaven sex trench, then flicked around her lush labia, then onto her cunt, then deeper into the darker recess which was her anus. As my oral adoration continued Lucy began to move her pussy in a sort of circular motion across my face.

Her sex smelled sensational, a combination of sex juices and urine. I found the mixture a heady, intoxicating aroma. My tongue moved upwards to her engorged clitoris and soon she was moaning and hissing "Lick me, bitch, lick me" as I brought her closer and closer to her sexual gratification.

Then she was roaring words like "Tongue fuck me, bitch, tongue fuck me" and "Oooooh I'm coming, make me come, slut, make me come" and then her orgasm washed through her pussy and sent little bursts of liquid from her urinary tract to my mouth. I swallowed her thirstily down.

Lucy grunted, heaved a big sigh, then stepped back from my pussy-stained mouth. She smiled down at me, her breasts heaving in the quarter-cup bra, her nipples thick.

I wondered whether she was finished but my unspoken question was answered when, with a pat of her hand on the foot of the bed, she indicated my next position for punishment.

I bent over the bed, laying my upper body on the mattress, feeling my breasts squash down. "Arms out straight above your head, stretch 'em," said Lucy. I obeyed. "Now spread those feet, wide, wider," she ordered. Again I obeyed.

Then the three-tailed whip continued it painful path of punishment, flicking across my taut buttocks, sending searing little shocks through me, stinging yet stunning. With an awful realisation, it dawned on me that I was lapping this up.

Then Lucy stopped, laid the flogger on my back, its leather strands feeling cool and sensuous on my flesh. A finger probed my sex, which was betraying my thoughts. "God, you're so wet, you pain slut," Lucy whispered, then I felt her breath on my buttocks as she knelt behind me.

Her tongue flickered over my cunt, then worked up to my anus. She probed there, then started to lick and lave at my back passage. For a moment I hoped I was clean down there. I didn't want to disgust or disappoint her, I wanted her to want me. I needn't have worried.

"Christ, aunty," she said, pulling back for a moment, "you taste so fucking tangy there, always taste like this for your little domina, always!" And then she resumed her oral adoration of my rosebud anus, licking, kissing, probing until I thought I would go wild with pleasure.

But at the height of my delight, Lucy stood up and took hold of the whip once more.

"Up," she snapped.

I stood and Lucy indicated the door to my en suite shower and toilet. "Grasp the transom, hands apart, go up on tip toe, I like to see you on tip toe, get there!"

I looked at her lush, teenage beauty, her big breasts spilling from the quarter-cup bra, the suspender belt gleaming around her lovely hips, the pussy which had so recently ground to a climax on my mouth, then turned and assumed the position she demanded of me, on my toes, my feet spread wide.

Then I heard the flogger's whistle as it announced its attack on my bare back. The three thongs cracked against my shoulder blades, three electric shocks rippled through my body, from my back to my breasts. The whistle from the leather came once more, another trio of spark-like shocks. Lucy delivered six blows like this, then I felt her hand between my thighs, stroking, fondling, caressing.

"Does my pain slut like this?" she whispered.

"She loves it, Lucy," I told her, my voice also a whisper, as if they were words I should not have said, even though I was aching to tell her how much I now craved her whip and the ecstatic electricity-like crack as it struck me.

"On the bed and wait for me, darling aunty," said Lucy, in a now much less harsh, strict voice, in a much more loving voice.

I fell onto the bed, then rolled over onto my back but Lucy had left. My hands strayed to my pussy, feeling the tell-tale, give away wetness which betrayed my lust for her lash, for her domination, her humiliation.

Then she was back, standing in the doorway, wearing a little black, sheer silk creation. It was cupless at her breasts, and beneath the centre of her beautiful big boobs little red bows tied the garment at her middle down to her navel, making the silk strain on her lovely body.

The playsuit then dived down to a crotchless portion, accentuated by the black strips crossing her lower belly and abdomen.

Lucy lay down beside me and placed one hand on my pussy and her mouth on mine. She kissed me lingeringly, lustily. "Does my lovely old tart want to make love now?" she whispered, her teeth nibbling against my ear lobe.

I kissed her with as much passion as I've ever felt for anyone and returned her whisper with a husky "Of course she does" as I thought her probing fingers would drive me insane.

Then her mouth lowered to my breasts and she was nibbling and sucking and kissing my hardened nipple. "Fuck, that's such a great tit, you lovely old thing," she murmured, between switching her attack from my left nipple to my equally hard right one.

And then she ran her tongue down my belly, into my navel, across my taut abdomen, then down to my mons. A kiss there and then she shuffled her body down so that she was lying between my thighs, stretched wide to accommodate her loveliness.

Now her tongue was flickering around my sex, licking at my labia, sucking on my clit, pushing slightly into my cunt, then into my anus. I hoped she wouldn't drown, but there was no need to worry.

"Oh fuck, you lovely old whore," she said - words which I did not object to in the slightest - "you're so sopping wet, so juicy, so sweaty and tasty."

Then her mouth and tongue resumed its oral adoration as I writhed and wriggled, squirming and thrusting against her mouth and face, revelling in her brilliant mouthplay on my weeping snatch.

Soon the inevitable happened and my climax started to ooze from every pore as Lucy's wonderful mouth dragged me closer and closer to the edge of the precipice before hurling me over and into that wonderful falling, tumbling thrill that is the Big O!

After I had calmed and she had licked me slowly back to normality, Lucy rose and lay on top of me, our mounds grinding together in mutually satisfying thrusting. Then she kissed me sweetly on the mouth, my sex juice aroma and taste mingling with the kiss.

"Stay there," she whispered, "I won't be long."

I did as she said, lying back with a big sigh, recalling all the wonderful things Lucy had done to me, all the sweet sucks and licks, all the whisperings, all the whistling of the lash. And then my reverie was interrupted. There, at the doorway, stood my lovely little 18-year-old niece - and she was naked!

The import of her pose, fists bunched on hips, feet spread wide, breasts thrusting just reinforced what I already knew. Water sports time!

Lucy grinned at my naked body, lying back on my bed, jolted from my comfort zone by the message her nudity spelled out to me. "I had debated whether or not to drag out your waiting with one long tease until tomorrow morning, aunty," she informed me, "but even I'm not that cruel. And anyway, I'm just bursting for a piddle, so I thought what better time than the present."

Lucy then stepped into my en suite and I heard the shower being turned on. Reluctantly, shivering with anticipation, but also keenly curious to find out what it was going to be like, I stood and stepped into the en suite.

As I did, my 18-year-old niece switched the shower off, Steam formed condensation on the glass door. "I do so hate stepping into a shower floor, don't you aunty?" she said, kissing me on the mouth.

"Now, let's get you initiated," she said, her pert buttocks jouncing as she stepped over the threshold into the shower cubicle. I followed her, my heart beating a rumba in the tension of the moment.

"On your knees, dear aunt," said Lucy, placing a hand on one shoulder and pressing me down. My face came level with her lovely pussy. She spread her thighs wide and I crouched so I was beneath her divine, aromatic sex trench.

"Open up, aunty," she said, her voice tinged with excitement. "I'll give you a little taste, then I'll try to halt the flow, which might be difficult. Just drink what you can."

And then she started to release a stream of gold down my mouth. I gulped it down as best I could, then, with a grunt, she halted the flow after about five seconds. Then I tasted warm, salty urine for the very first time. I swallowed and it slid down. I've tasted worse - Dutch Genever gin, for example.

"Shit, you've no idea how hard it is to stop a strong flow just after you've started peeing," she said. "Now, be a dear and cup those lovely pert 34-inch Bristols for me."

I placed my hands beneath my globes and Lucy jetted a spray of piss onto them, hot, yellow, sticky. Then, after about a 10 second burst came another grunt, as she succeeded in stemming the flow.

"Rub it all over your tits, aunty," said Lucy. As I looked down at a pool of urine trapped between my now golden globes.

I sluiced her warm piss all over my breasts as the sickly smell rose to my nostrils. They looked as if they had been smeared with suntan lotion, sticky and sweaty.

"Stand up," snapped Lucy and I stood. "Now rub your tits all over mine," she told me.

I rubbed my breasts against her lovely large, lush 38-inch boobs, until we were both smeared with the recently released urine.

Then Lucy pulled my head down to her nipple-hard breasts and hissed: "Worship them, properly!"

My tongue flickered onto her nipples, then moved over the full, firm flesh of each breast. This, surprisingly, was worse than having to drink it. Drinking I could swallow gulps and ingest it without tasting it all. This was impossible with sucking and licking on her urine-smeared globes. The taste was tangy, salty, very - well, very strong.

"Back down, you lovely old licker," said Lucy, and I slipped down to my knees. Again my breasts were given a soaking from her piss stream, this one lasting longer than any other the others, at least 20 seconds, possibly more.