10 comments/ 104328 views/ 20 favorites Jen Ch. 01 By: StoryTeller07 "You fit to be seen DM?" Morris asked with the door open a crack. He walked in on hearing a grunt of consent. Jen barely lifted her head to nod at him. "Know what its like, been there a few times, so I won't shout at you," he told her. Jen sat on the edge of the bed, only making it that far, while nursing a sore head in both hands. She wore a pair of slept-in panties and a t-shirt, smelling like a next morning bar room. "Unlike you not to take advantage and you might as well, my parents will. I'll be grounded for the next six months. Mother won't let me out of her sight." Jen murmured. Morris looked at the long bare legs on show knowing the attractive young woman was distracting him from the plan. "You're over twenty-one so you can do what you like. Yea, OK. I know what the tough bird's like. You're feeling sorry for yourself but how about thinking of others for a change," Morris pointed out. "I'm sorry, you know I am, Uncle Morris," she sniffled, too much in pain to argue with him. "I remember you dragging me out of the car and seeing those damaged cars, not much else. I feel terrible. Do my parents have to know? They'll be so upset. I know I should be punished, it's just, letting them down, it feels so bad," she sighed. "You're lucky it's happened away from home. I might take a chance and keep quiet about it but the damage has to be paid for. You crashed into three cars, not just scratches either. The insurance isn't going to cover it unless I turn you over to the police saying you stole the vehicle," he warned her. "Oh! No! Please Uncle don't do that," she whined. It was a change for them to have a conversation without growling at each other. He used to say she was named Jen because it was cheaper then Jennifer, less letters used. Her mother was always on about budgeting. He called her delicious but malicious, 'DM' for short. She called him Uncle because it annoyed him; he said it made him feel old. Uncle Morris wasn't liked in the family and the feeling was mutual. Her mother, Rose, wouldn't let him in the house, referring to him as 'that reprobate'. He in turn took every opportunity to put them down. Although her father, Jonathan, made money investing wisely Uncle Morris had made money illicitly, but how, no one knew. "Just to keep you out of trouble with the police someone is going to have to pay for the damage, and that's your father," Morris told her firmly. "Not the police please! They don't have to know, surely? I'd pay if I could, every penny of it. I don't suppose you could loan me the money?" she asked. The look of pain in her face was supposed to win him over but she knew he was a hard man, not easily swayed. He looked at her sitting in panties and t-shirt looking like a sexy woman after a hard lascivious night. Long curly hair dropping over both shoulders framed a pretty face, only this morning it was stuck on one side after sleeping on it. Despite smelling like a stale beer she was still attractive. A quick shower would have her back to looking like a long legged, desirable young woman. "I'll do anything to save them from the embarrassment of it all," she told him. He was looking at her in that wolfish way again but she dare not complain; clinging onto the hope he would help her out of the hole she had crashed into. He didn't have much of a problem about hiding the truth or lies, from her parents or anyone else, so there was a chance. He looked as though he was being torn between lying to her parents, almost a hobby, and goading them with the truth. Still undecided he looked at Jan, fixing her eyes with a hard stare. "How would you pay?" he asked. "You have to pay somehow, and you can't be let off without being punished," he told her. "You can't be let off so easily, you won't learn from the mistake," he told her harshly. "You're a spoilt brat, made so by doting parents. You're mommy and daddies little perfect angel," he told her, with a sarcasm laden voice. "Well you're a drunken reprobate, at least I don't make trouble wherever I go, chatting up strange women," she began to holler but winced and grabbed her head in a tight grip. "It might be fun if you did!" he chuckled. "Oh! You mean that redhead last night? The husband should keep a tighter leash on that one. You don't know how to have fun, like the rest of that retarded family of yours. My brother knew how before the 'she wolf' got her fangs into him," Morris growled back at her. Jen wasn't biting, just biting her lip, lacking the stamina to retaliate. "This is getting us nowhere, dragging up history," he told her firmly. His voice was low and the expression on his face showed indecision on a course of action. She could see how much he wanted to use this situation to the family's detriment. She naturally thought to put herself at his mercy so that he would take it out on her rather than tell mom. The headache didn't help but she was in a difficult position so had to gain his help to gain time. As much as it rankled she would have to plead with the dreadful arrogant man. At least he wasn't gloating; which should have warned her there was something more to this misadventure than she realised. "Please Uncle Morris, I'll be good, I really will try to fit in and won't argue, honestly. I'll help out here with the boys and what ever you want me to do, I'll just do it. You're right I should be punished for what I did," she said, with an earnest expression. From sitting on the edge of the bed she almost slipped to the floor, as though she were about to beg on hands and knees. She was oblivious of the delightful exhibition of her body Uncle Morris was getting. It was the reason he called her DM. The sight of bare thighs and the view down the loose t-shirt would have been delightfully enthralling, but there was no time for that, he had things to do. The only reason he had let the stuck up bitch tag along was because she was such a delightful eye-full. She had a beautiful figure but not even his sons tried it on with the dragon, as Mat called her. She tried to fit in but her mothers influence prevented the young woman from relaxing. Like her father, his brother, she was firmly kept in place by the harridan. "You should have gone to university or at least taken a job. You would have learnt something about the real world instead of bending to your mother's fierce regime. Instead you're an impractical prissy girl unable to stand up to her. You need to learn to stand on your own two feet and become a woman," he lectured. Seeing she wasn't arguing he let it go with a shrug of his shoulders. He looked at her with a frown dominating his face. "I'm trying to figure how this is going to work out. As far as I can see it's me handing over fistfuls of cash and you're getting away with helping out every once in awhile at away games, or once a week if mom lets you out for home games too. Doesn't sound as though you're going to learn much responsibility to me young lady," he told her, his voice sounding sceptical. If mother found out about the drunken behaviour she would be banned from the basketball games Uncle Morris coached. Her one chance to escape for a little while, from the humdrum daily existence at home, would be snatched away. At least supporting her cousins playing on the team got her out of the house a couple of times a week. She felt stifled at home and treasured the moments away with his rowdy boys. They were younger and mostly ignored her. They worked hard and played hard too. Jen envied their effortless enjoyment of life; they were free to explore ideas and the world around them. At home she helped mother look after father who was ill. This was the first away game and they had stayed at a motel; a whole night away from that dismal house. "At home, I could help out at home, your house. Clean and tidy, maybe cook for you?" she said, with eyes wide trying desperately to appeal to a better nature he must have stored away somewhere. His wife had died a year ago and the place needed a good thorough clean. She wouldn't step foot in the place and told him so before that first home game. He looked at her with a stern expression. Nostrils flared and cheeks reddened with the exertion of keeping a quick temper under control. "You have to pay back something, just enough to hurt a little. Talking about hurting a little, you need to be punished too. Said so yourself," he nodded thoughtfully, as though accepting his own suggestion. "Working everyday at my house will remind you of the debt," he told her, with a wagging finger. "Yes Uncle Morris, what ever you say," she smiled sweetly up at him from the edge of the bed. So he did have a considerate side to him, unless he was just teasing her. No, he would keep a promise not to tell and besides he could hold it over her until she paid back the money. "Here's the deal. You have to do as you're told. You have to pay a token amount each week from your allowance. Do you agree?" he asked. "Yes Uncle Morris, I agree," she stated clearly and sat up straight, as though it were more sincerely meant like that. He looked at her breasts and nipples being thrust out. They were loose in the t-shirt yet came to attention looking firm and ripe when she sat up. "The punishment will be," he started to say then shrugged his shoulders at a loss for an idea. "You have any suggestions? Can't think of anything you do that can be stopped," he said, and paused. "It'll have to be the old fashioned way I guess. You too old to be put over my knee?" he asked. Again the hand stroked his chin while he looked quizzical, unsure if this was right. About to explode at the idea she instead just about restrained the outburst. He was testing her. There was no way a twenty-two year old woman would accept such a demeaning position and from him of all people! He was looking for an excuse to wriggle out of the offer so as to wickedly gloat when telling mother. Well she could play games too! "Yes Uncle, I mean, no Uncle, you must punish me for what I've done. What ever you think is fitting," she blurted out. This is not what she had in mind but at least it would take care of the guilt she felt, or was that just a hangover? What she had accepted wasn't reasonable but she was sure he wouldn't carry it out. To buy some time anything could be agreed to. Once he was committed to keeping it secret from her parents she could get the money from father with some excuse and that would be an end to it. Even if she had to tidy up his house for a few days it would be better than mother finding out. He was fickle enough to become bored and let her out of the agreement before long anyway. Her parents had said no one is all bad so why hadn't they found anything nice to say about him? As much as she disliked Uncle Morris she would have missed being around his two wayward sons. They weren't bad just playful and full of energy like most eighteen year olds. She had to chastise them once for playfully grabbing hold of her but after a stern lecture they hadn't been a bother since. "So! What's next then? Lets see if you meant what you said, shall we? You agreed to do as you are told," he said slowly. "Also agreed to be punished," he added. The look he gave was definitely a challenge. OK! She could either crash out and say it was unfair or stand up to the challenge. Her mother would stand up and take the medicine however distasteful it was. It was one of her sayings so of course she would do exactly that. Jen stood up and looked straight ahead into his strong chin. He had used a blunt razor this morning. This expert knowledge was gained from shaving her father each morning over the last few days. Bringing her shoulders back she took a deep breath. "I'm ready, sir," she stated, like a soldier on parade. He sat down on the bed and looked up at her expectantly. The nonchalant look was held for a moment, in danger of failing, holding just long enough for when she looked down at him. He patted his lap. 'Shit!' she thought but said, "Dang it! Uncle! You can't expect me to accept, err, it will hurt," she complained. "You agreed to be punished and promised to do as you were told. Already you are giving in so what else will you default on," he said, with a serious look, while shaking his head heavily as though in sorrow. She wasn't fooled by the pious look and tone of voice. He meant to push her to the limit. "I agreed but didn't think you would take advantage of me Uncle Morris," she complained, with a woeful sound of voice. She too could play along with this game for there was no way she wanted to lose and have him blab to her mother. "You and your family take advantage of me all the time. Every chance you get my character is impugned. Well, you don't seem to be able to honour an agreement so there's only one thing for it," he said, struggling to get up from the soft springy bed. "OK!" she said. It was a sudden impulse, otherwise, given a moment to think she would have shied away. Before he changed his mind or she did Jen dropped into his lap. She hoped it hurt him. It occurred to her just then how little she was wearing. So used to roaming around at home in panties and t-shirt it hadn't seemed to matter. She lay limp across uncle's lap bemused over how this had happened. The frightfulness of it kept the panic in check. It was as though she had been stunned, inert. Morris looked down at the innocent young woman stretched out over his lap. It was just like Jen to submit to such an ordeal for the sake of honour. He had intended her to renege on the deal after having a little fun teasing her. More than anything he wanted to shatter the brittle Rose that turned his brother against him. Now he was terminally ill it was time to make peace, to become close brothers once more. The damn woman was determined to keep up the family feud and have Jonathan die without him at his side. Slap! The sound shook him as much as it quivered the soft cheeks of Jan's bottom. He hadn't meant to spank her, just put her in this demeaning position. He almost pushed her off his lap. Instead the hand came down for another slap of its own volition. He hadn't meant it. He had thought she needed it but who was he to chastise their daughter. They had ruined her; they should teach her the world wasn't fair and dandy, that she would have to be aware and beware. This time he meant the stinging slap. Did three slaps make a spanking? Her bottom was red, from what he could see of it through the white cotton panties. "You can get up," he said, with difficulty. He had seen a film and remembered what she should say, but his voice croaked so he cleared his throat. A deep breath and maybe he could continue. "What do you say?" he asked. Looking more stunned than he did, she stood with head hung low. "You are supposed to thank me," he whispered, as though offering a queue. "Thank you?" she asked. "You shouldn't have done that! That's going too far. I'm a grown woman not a naughty child," she exclaimed, sounding more like a spoilt brat than the woman she was. "So you won't honour the agreement! I'll have to either report the incident to the police or make your parents to pay for the damage," he threatened. She was in shock, trying to fit what happened into a normal world, shaking her head trying to get her head straight. "Uncle you shouldn't have spanked me like a silly young girl, I'm a fully grown woman. I'm an adult and should be treated with respect," she said, with a voice teetering toward horror. "You didn't act like a mature and responsible adult last night," he pointed out. "Thank me for punishing you, for teaching you the error of your ways," he said, not caring if that was the right words or not, just needing her to make it safe. He didn't want to be charged with assault. The harridan would go to such lengths to get at him even if it hurt her own daughter. Eventually she gave in. "Do you promise not to tell anyone?" She considered his abrupt 'yes' answer enough as it seemed that was all he would give. With a shaky voice she tried to answer. "Thank you Uncle Morris for spanking me, eh, for teaching me to behave," she adlibbed, feeling foolish but somehow the words seemed logical. He hadn't groped her. He had actually spanked her. Not understanding this might turn someone on she believed he had sincerely tried to teach her a lesson, as promised. She had agreed to it too, so what could she say? Could she complain? The bemusement and embarrassment showed clearly upon her face as she tried to understand what happened. He sometimes patted her bottom when he thought no one was looking and she ignored it, or told him he was an awful old pervert when no one was within hearing distance. That always seemed to put him in his place. This was different, much different. "Damn, Uncle, you shouldn't have, err, done that. I'm going for a shower," she told him. Once there Jan looked into the mirror over her back wondering what he had seen of her body. When she left the room he hadn't even bothered to look at her. A sliver of cheeks were escaping from around the panties but nothing too much. When she bent forward a sudden inward breath of surprise sounded loud in the small bathroom. The crotch of the panties was wet. Had he seen this? She tugged them off in anger, cross with her body, feeling confused over why this had happened. It was awful peeling them from her crotch, feeling them wet and sticky. Was that why he looked away when she escaped to the bathroom? She had let herself down by shamefully showing off her panties and getting wet over it. Surely not, no, not getting excited because he had seen between her legs while she was spread over his lap, that couldn't be it! Wrapping a thin motel towel around a clean body she peeped into the room. He was gone. She marched in to grab some clothes, accompanied by a sigh of relief. There was also a slight sound of remorse that he wasn't waiting for her. It felt like any other empty room only he seemed missing from it. Tucked away tidily, in a corner of her mind out of sight, was a thought. Something about having been naughty, her wet panties, and would she be punished again? *** Morris hurried out of the motel room thinking it had all gone too far. The intended teasing of his niece ended up with a lewd tease for him. He had to leave quickly before she noticed the erection threatening to reveal his thoughts. "You're late Morris!" Joe accused him. "Sorry friend, unforeseen circumstances," he explained. "You owe me money," the guy stated plainly. A look of suspicion shrouded his face from a perpetual misgiving that life was about to deal him a blow; this time meaning he was about to receive less money that he bargained for. "Here, it's all there," Morris said, while handing over a brown envelope. It was brown because Morris was a traditionalist not just because he had a box of two thousand to get rid of. He knew the weasel looking guy would open it and slowly count the notes. It looked as though he were looking for counterfeit ones. Joe had lined up the old cars in the parking lot while they were at the game. Morris added vodka to Jen's water and stood back, as they say, waiting for an accident to happen. They won the game so he let the boys out for a rowdy evening and Jen got caught up in it. He guided her back to the motel and slid her into the driving seat where she passed out. The minivan was already scratched, which gave him the idea. He revived her making sure they tottered past the old vehicles looking sad and dented. In the poor light they didn't look too bad, but he knew they were clunkers and would be towed away before morning. "You said something went wrong, so thought you'd short change me!" he stated. "No. Not your fault, mine. Everything went fine as far as you're concerned. Must be slipping when it comes to playing practical jokes, that's all," he explained, without explaining anything at all. Besides, Joe saw only the money, tuning out everything else. Jen Ch. 01 Morris contemplated what had gone wrong. Telling that harridan the precious daughter wasn't so perfect and getting Jen out of his hair had been a perfect idea only it all went wrong. He ended up spanking his niece, which wouldn't have been such a big deal except she was twenty-two and a very desirable young woman. The way she said she would do whatever he wanted was so tempting he just couldn't resist teaching her a lesson. Never take it for granted someone will play fair and not take advantage. He thought she would have protested and not given in so easily, so he could claim a victory and continue with the plan of telling her mother. After spanking her he dare not tell anyone. *** He watched Jen glance at the side of the minivan where he had stroked a post yesterday evening. She couldn't look him in the eye and kept her head down scrunched up in the back seat. The sons looked subdued too after a night out in a bar. They were more thoughtful than guilty over something, as she was. Morris had plenty of time to think on the drive back to town. He told himself not to be so stupid and either continue with the plan or tell her what had really happened. Make it a warning about the demon drink. Either way he felt bad despite that mother of hers. He dropped off the boys at their college rooms and continued in silence. Without being asked she dragged herself reluctantly out of the van and followed him to the house. "So, what now?" he asked. "I guess, err. Cook something to eat?" she murmured. "Good girl. Get cooking," he said, trying to sound confident and casual. She hated being called a girl but hadn't retaliated or even noticed. He watched her walk out of the room looking very subdued. He looked around the room noticing it did need a good clean so maybe he could string her along for a few days. For once he sat at the dining table to eat instead of slobing out in front of the TV. Jen brought in two plates and set them down but before she could sit he said, "Bring me a beer." Jen looked at him about to scold him for the lack manners. Instead she turned quickly to disappear into the kitchen before she riled him or she became too angry to stay. She figured he was still looking to push her beyond the limits of endurance and so win the game. In the kitchen she smiled. At least this way she was the focus of his attention and not her parents, so she was winning. She skipped back to the table, pulled on the ring and sprayed him with warm beer. He hastily pushed back the chair from the can as it poured into his lap. She had dropped it in surprise onto the table where it continued to pour over him. "What was that for? You're a stupid girl!" Morris shouted in surprise. "I expected you to behave yourself, look at the mess, you spoiled dinner too," he exploded. "Sorry Uncle, I didn't mean it," she squirmed. He grabbed an arm and pulled her over his knee before he had a chance to think or she had a chance to resist. "No! Please Uncle, you can't do this, not again," Jen protested. She kicked her legs but a big strong hand, in the small of her back, held her down. Thwack! A couple of hard smacks to the jeans covering a heart shaped, pert bottom, calmed him immediately. He realised he wasn't in a position to tell her parents now. Had she purposely pushed him into losing his cool? "That was off the shelf and you shook it too. Don't you know to get a can from the fridge?" he asked. "I'm sorry Uncle, I didn't know, we don't have beer in the house," she gulped and bit off the explanation that mother wouldn't allow it. He listened and believed her. What was more interesting was the way she squirmed on his lap. Not trying to get away but something else. "Stand up!" he ordered. He took a good look at her. She stood with head bowed looking subdued and if he wasn't mistaken, looking flushed. He knew women and knew how to treat them. Some had to be wooed and treated with respect while others liked rough play. He knew more than one needing to be treated hard in the bedroom and knew friends with wives who liked it that way the rest of the time too. It made him wonder. "What do you say? Come on, you must remember from this morning," he said with a frustrated tone as though she were a stupid girl. "Thank, thank you, uncle. Thank you for punishing me," she stammered. Jen couldn't help remembering the state of her panties and felt them clinging to her wet crotch after being over his knee. This confirmed what she had tried to dismiss this morning. She still couldn't understand why it excited her to be showing off to him. "The t-shirt, is it a favourite?" he asked. "Yes Uncle, I wore it special for the game," she said. The confusion from such a question was clear on her face. "You know I don't like to be called uncle. You will call me sir," he stated. Caught off guard she again complied, hoping to calm him and escape into the kitchen for a cloth. "Yes, uncle, Sir," she said. "You can use that to clean up the mess, a fitting punishment, don't you think?" he asked. "Yes, sir," she replied quickly. "Well then?" he asked. "I've, I'm, not, I forgot to," she began, but was interrupted. "You promised to do as you were told and to accept punishment for wrong doing. Unless you want a proper spanking instead of a couple of slaps, do you? Do you want me to pull your jeans down to spank you for spilling beer everywhere?" he asked, still feigning anger. It seemed a reasonable question but she couldn't think straight. Again a feeling of arousal was focusing her mind on those large strong hands. This morning they had touched her bottom, spanked her thinly protected ass, and now even through the jeans the feeling was there. She felt as though he had taken her and she must surrender to him. "I can't uncle, I'm not wearing anything under it," she complained. From just the stare it was obvious he had too much over her and that she would have to give in. She lifted it up trying to cover her breasts not thinking to turn around. She knew this was wrong but couldn't stop herself. He took the t-shirt and rubbed his shirt and trousers with it. "Here, soak up the mess on the table then put it back on. Why aren't you wearing a bra?" he demanded. "I'm sorry sir. I got dressed in a hurry, you were leaving and I had to shower. I'm sorry sir," she kept repeating she was sorry. She tried to cover her breasts but it was difficult having to pick up the plate and mop up the mess she made. Morris watched her breasts jiggle as she desperately tried to clean up. She looked even more excited and the swelling nipples revealed her arousal. The intense emotion brought tears to her eyes as she found it all so overwhelming. He too found it exciting but was old enough to be more in control. "Put it on. Go on, it's a punishment so you remember to be more careful in future, girl. You'll dress more appropriately too. After dinner I'll get you something to wear," he told her. Something appropriate came to mind as he watched her fumbling around. Pulling on the wet t-shirt wasn't easy but she managed to roll it down her belly. It now clung to her breasts emphasising the swollen nipples. It was slightly see-through but he tried not to stare as this might give her an advantage. "You look a mess," he told her. "Now go and cook something else, and quickly. Don't forget a cold beer this time," he shouted, as she scurried away. *** Morris managed to keep his eyes off the wet t-shirt during dinner but noticed his niece wrinkling her nose at the inescapable smell of beer rising from it. He had found a way of punishing her after all but still intended to spank her ass when the next opportunity arose. Jen could hardly manage to sit still while eating dinner. The smell of beer drying on the t-shirt was a constant reminder of a humiliating punishment. Added to that was the awful feeling of being aroused when Uncle Morris saw her breasts. It was playing on her mind that he might notice she was aroused and take advantage of her. What she couldn't accept yet was the idea of being driven into misbehaving by her state of pleasure. Jen hadn't even realised yet the state of sexual arousal had driven her to bare her breasts for him. That brazen display, combined with the humiliation of a spanking inflamed her passions. "You can't get on with the chores like that girl. I'll get you something to wear, hurry up," he rebuked her. He led her to the spare bedroom. "Here, try these," he told her, with a tone of voice allowing no argument. She felt unable to say a word and he was still rummaging through a wardrobe evidently not intending to leave the room. Jen pulled off the t-shirt, reluctant to pull off the jeans in front of him, especially as the panties were so damp between her legs. "It's too small, Sir," she explained. The bra wasn't going to fit around her chest let alone cover her large breasts. She held it up in front of her attempting to maintain some privacy. "What about this?" he asked, holding up an equally inadequate bra. "Well, just wear the dress then. I can't send you home to your mother stinking of beer. What you're wearing will have to go in the wash, so change into that," he told her brusquely. It should have been obvious what he was doing but he got away with it due to her inexperience and heated state. Jen felt awkward dressing before her uncle and again there was an under-current of excitement to it. "It's alright uncle, sorry, I mean Sir. I can manage," she pointed out in a little weak voice; hardly likely to get her own way. "I'll come out to the lounge when I've changed," she managed to add. "Nonsense, you don't seem to be able to do anything, not even get dressed properly," he said with disdain. "Those jeans will have to go in the wash, come on lets have them," he told her. Jen decided to hand them over quickly just to get rid of him. She fumbled and fell back on the bed. There was no way of hiding her breasts and getting the jeans off but she tried anyway, ending up looking like a hunchback. He didn't leave even then. She was trying to hide the state of her panties which surely must have an obvious damp patch for they felt soaking wet. "Hurry up, lift your arms," he said. As much as he wanted to he dare not touch her for there was more to gain with patience. He took the bra from her hands and watched her put both hands up as though in surrender. She had such nice firm breasts he wanted to lean in and kiss them. He pulled the dress down her body, knowing already from the woman who left it there, it would be too small; just as the bra was. She wiggled her hips into it shaking her breasts around in a delightful gyration. There was plenty of cleavage from them being pushed up in the tight bodice of the dress. She pulled at the hem finding it wasn't tucked up for there wasn't much of it in the first place. It fitted tight under her breasts and flared out over her body to lightly float around her thighs. Although it was an exquisite designer dress, obviously expensive, it left her feeling cheap. From under the dress she pulled her panties down meaning to hide them in the pile of clothes. She could slip them in the washer without him knowing they were dirty. "Come on then, you need to get working to pay off this debt," he firmly told her. "Uncle, I mean, Sir," she quickly corrected herself. "What is it?" he asked, clearly impatient, wanting to get on with it. "I need some panties, sir," she asked sheepishly. It was highly embarrassing asking her uncle for panties and only a few hours ago she wouldn't even contemplate being in his house. She seemed to be in a downward spiral, wondering how far she was to fall in her own self-esteem before being freed. "At least you remembered this time. Hold on. I've given you these clothes while yours are in the wash and so far I've been the one paying without you contributing a penny. You spoiled dinner and wasted beer. You can earn the panties, girl!" Morris growled at her. For a moment Jen wanted to cave in and simper in abject misery. She stiffened her resolve to pay him off and escape this dreadful place and this decedent old man. "What if someone comes in while I'm cleaning the place, Sir?" she asked. At last starting to think quickly she prepared to argue for a pair of panties. The thought of pleading for a pair of panties was adding to the all ready aroused state, heating her up even more. She knew it and could feel that familiar squishy feeling between the legs. Little tingling sensations were dancing up her back seeming to pulse through her body into her nipples. "You'll just have to be careful," he said and slapped her bare cheeks. The sound of a hard hand on soft cheeks was now familiar but the stinging pain seemed to follow in its own time. It replaced the tingling of her body with a more earthy feeling. It seemed like a punishment for being naughty, for back-chatting her uncle. A deeper feeling of arousal penetrated her body, from her pussy, to gripping her stomach as though it were being twisted. "Bend over," he said. "No! I can't," she complained. "I said bend over," he growled and slapped her bottom again. "But Uncle, I've no panties, I'm," she started to say but couldn't bring her self to say the word naked. He sat heavily on the bed pulling her over his knee as he did so. There was no need to pull up the little dress for it flared up over her waist to reveal a firm bare ass. "I thought so. You're aroused. Why?" he asked. Little whimpering sounds escaped her mouth which flapped ineffectively from the shock of this despicable revelation. Uncle Morris had suspected something and spread her thighs to discover the truth. She had been roused, but surely not by him. It must be her own imagination working on her, leading her on. What could she say? Morris knew what it was and felt more confident of taking advantage of her. She should have run and complained when he first put her over his knee. This invasion of her privacy was even more intrusive yet she bore it without complaint. It wasn't just shock at the audaciousness. She was being stoked up and didn't know what to do about it. "Please, Sir," Jen managed to whimper. She felt so humiliated she couldn't move or hardly speak. He had found out this terrible secret that she had been trying to hide from herself. He was forcing her to face the terrible truth she was being turned on by exposing her body to him. "It's this I'm talking about," he said. She felt a finger push between her lips. It was all so much wetter down there than she had guessed. Morris scooped up a finger of sticky fluids and rubbed the smelly finger under her nose and over her lips. "Smell that? It's your excitement," he said stolidly. "You're a naughty little slut! What are you?" he demanded. "Please, sir," she whimpered with a shaking voice. Jen had thought of herself as a good young woman but was ready to admit she must be less than perfect, worse than that, he had shown her up to be a tramp. She hated that word and couldn't say it. "Say it!" he repeated. "I, I'm a naughty little slut, sir," she said, the voice wavering in a pathetic whisper. "Louder!" his tone of voice was harsh and severe. "I'm a naughty little slut, sir," she spluttered, desperate to get it over with. She admitted defeat and believed it! If this were revealed to her parents it would be more devastating than the reason she was here in the fist place. The thought of her parents finding out she was a dirty little slut tightened a noose around her neck making it difficult to breath. "You need to be corrected in your ways, punished more so than before. Isn't that right?" he asked. "Yes sir," she conceded. Jen wanted to plead with him not to tell anyone. She wanted the thoughts and feeling to go away, unable to cope with any of it. She felt his finger slide into her open pussy knowing there was no resistance to him. Her body was ready for him so she must be a slut; he was right however dreadful the idea was. Jen had never experienced such a disgusting act. She felt his finger slide in up to his palm which cupped her bottom. It slid in and out working her up into a dreadful state with breathing becoming rapid and ragged. A second finger joined the first pushing open her hole, stretching it from its near virgin state. With so much experience he easily found her little hard button and worked upon it with every twist and turn of his fingers. He sawed across it eliciting little whimpering noises. Every time he touched it the word 'Yes' swooned from her lips. Morris was tempted to poke her asshole too but refrained. Having decided on yet another plan he left it for later. He didn't want to spoil the perfection of those beautiful white globes of soft flesh, so didn't strike her this time. He could see her shake with emotion and speeded up the piston like motion of his fingers. He watched the muscles tighten and anticipated a heavy orgasm. Her legs were open where he had separated her thighs over his knees so he could see everything of her little private place. With every stroke the slit opened up among the pubic hair, making them gleam with wetness. At first her legs flexed and writhed more from the indignity of it than the pleasure. She stopped shaking and went stiff unable to move. He pushed her off his knee onto the floor at his feet. She squatted on the floor in a bemused state unable to understand what was happening. He had to bring himself together to play the role of persecutor and not go too far as yet. "Stand up, quickly!" he ordered. "What do you say? For your punishment girl, what do you say for teaching you not to be a slut?" he asked firmly. "Thank you, sir," she whined. Jen was still in the after glow of an orgasm in a very vulnerable state. She had put up with the punishment but now felt she deserved it. The snot and tears had come silently as though she was trying to endure it, all the time thinking she deserved to be punished. She had let her uncle play with her! Had an orgasm while spread out over his knees displaying her sex. Why had she behaved like this; he must be right she was a slut. She remembered emerging from her room for a late breakfast in a t-shirt and panties when her mother would berate her. Had she wantonly shown off her body for anyone to see? Surely that had just been an innocent act of an adolescent. Had she always been a slut? Is that why she wanted to be with her cousins? Jen's mind was a confusion of thoughts swirling around the guilt of a new found passion. Morris pulled her up off the floor before she had a chance to recover leading her into the bathroom. He pulled the dress off and plucked her off the floor perching her in a sink. "Sit!" he ordered. She sat supine letting him wash her face then let out a sigh of consternation when he soaped between her legs. She needed to be rid of the smell of her sex yet not wanting it to be him that cleansed her. "You don't deserve to wear panties, you dirty them quicker than they can be washed, you dirty little slut," he admonished her. All was being interpreted to his convenience but he gave her no chance to defend herself rather he railroaded her thoughts along the track that suited him. With every word she pictured herself more deeply as a naughty slut not worthy of consideration, deserving of this ill-treatment. He pushed her back against the cold wall tiles with the taps digging into her back but she didn't complain. Her eyes widened in surprise when he squirted foam between her legs. She had shaved her father with a stick of soap and brush but she knew what was about to happen. She watched mesmerised as he concentrated on her once private place. She felt the cold steel slicing away all protection. His fingers were gripping her lips pulling them into shape to get at every nook and cranny of her pussy. Jen Ch. 01 He lifted her up and bent her over the bath. With legs outstretched he finished the job removing every last hair, denuding her completely. Nothing was hidden between her legs or between her cheeks. Jen stood before him holding up the dress while he examined her. She bent over and pulled her cheeks apart feeling reduced to an object unworthy of his attention. "Now you can start work. I will check up on you to make sure you haven't excited yourself and will teach you self control. Do you understand?" he demanded of her. "Yes, sir," was all she could say. Being here had been a short respite until she could summon help from her parents but now felt she couldn't ask anything of them. She would have to stay here and learn to behave decently. She was completely in his hands until he thought she was ready to go.