MY WEEKEND HOME ALONE WITH MY NIECE

BY WORSEL

[ part 2 ]

This is all Fiction! None of it ever happened! If you don’t like it don’t read it.

Saturday

I was in that intermediate stage between sleep and wakefulness. I knew it was morning and I was hazily recalling a weird dream I had just had involving my brother’s little twelve year old girl, Faith, bondage, her crazy mother, spanking, her missing Teddy Bear, and falling asleep naked together. I could feel my penis was erect, due to either the sexy dream thoughts, or the usual morning hard-on. No it wasn’t just that, someone playing with my penis.

I fully woke up with a jerk and started ejaculating at the same time. ‘Damn,’ I thought. ‘I’ll have to change and wash the sheets!’ My wife would be home Sunday afternoon, and she didn’t like semen stains on her bed sheets.

“Faith?” I inquired.

“Did you like that Uncle Ken?” she asked meekly.

“Yes, Faith,” I said reassuringly. “That’s a very nice way to be woken up. But it would have been better if you had asked me first,” I said.

“I tried poking you to get you awake, and that didn’t work. It’s seven o’clock, it’s time to get up!” she announced perkily.

‘Seven!” I thought with regret.

“Um Faith, I usually sleep late on Saturday, until ten or so…” I said.

“Oh such a waste of time,” she scolded.

This made me smile, because she was right of course. I rolled over and looked her in the eyes, and told her that. I pushed my lips toward her face to give her an avuncular kiss on the cheek, and she moved her head to meet my lips with hers. Her tongue pushed my lips apart and I remembered I had taught her to do that last night while I stroked her naked body from her skinny little butt to her lovely small breasts. And now I was stroking her again.

Stroking a naked girl is an activity that can go on for a long time, without talking, without complaining, not without the stroking being returned. Lying on our sides facing each other some parts of a girl are hard to reach, so I gently rolled her over onto her back and spread her legs.

“Uncle Ken?” Faith inquired.

“Yes, sweetheart,” I answered.

“I think you should tie me up now. I could go downstairs to the living room and bring the ropes up,” she said seriously. We had used clothesline to tie each other up the night before.

She had some hang-ups about pleasure, and her therapist – my brother had asked me to meet with her to discuss Faith’s treatment – had instructed me that indulgence of odd requests was best for her well being at this time. I doubted this was what she had in mind, but I was in way over my head by now.

“No, I have some other stuff up here.” Here, was the master bedroom, and the other stuff was a box of bondage toys stored on the top shelf of my wife’s closet. She watched as I slid out of the bed and went over to the closet. I sucked my gut up so I would look better. I wasn’t fat, really, and I did exercise when I got the time. Still I wanted to look better for this twelve-year-old girl watching her Uncle walking around naked.

I showed her some leather cuffs, and said, “I can put these on your wrists. It’s easier than tying knots, and they should be more comfortable.” Not that comfort was really a point of bondage play.

“Ooh,” she squealed with a smile. “That looks so cool!” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t you use these last night?” she asked, stretching her arms out to accept the cuffs.

“I didn’t want to scare you,” I said, fastening cuffs on her wrists and using snap hooks to hold them together behind her back. I attached her ankles to a spreader bar, and then bent her knees so the center of the spreader bar could be attached to the chain joining her wrists.

“You’re just using snap hooks, I can get out of this,” Faith objected.

“The snap hooks are out of your reach,” I replied. “If you can get out of them while I go to the bathroom,” I continued, getting to my feet. “I’ll just replace them with padlocks.”

She started squirming, lying on her tummy with wrists bound behind her in a hogtie to the spreader that forced her legs apart, while I went to relieve myself. When I got back she still wasn’t loose, so I didn’t need to use the locks.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

“Fine,” she panted. “Touch me please.”

‘Hmm,’ I thought. ‘Is that therapeutic progress?’

Naturally, I started with a gentle stroking of her back with my left hand, from neck to butt, massaging her neck and shoulders, moving my hand all over her back, increasingly dipping a finger into her butt crack. Then I pushed my right hand between her thighs. She responded by grinding her cunnie against my hand. I pushed my thumb into her vagina while using the rest of my hand to massage her vulva and seek out her clitoris. I mostly didn’t move it much as she humped her cute little ass up and down, seeking out my fingers.

After a while, her humping of my hand stopped and she smiled at me, catching her breath. “That was really nice Uncle Ken,” she said. I detached her ankles from the spreader bar and the chain connecting it to her wrists cuffs.

“Can you bring me my clothes now?” she asked. Her father had taken all the clothes she needed for the weekend to Kuala Lumpur, so I had put the outfit she had arrived in into the washing machine.

“Oh Shit!” I exclaimed, “I forget to put them in the dryer. Stay there, I’ll be right back.”

I ran down the stairs to the first floor, through the many-windowed sun-porch to the laundry room. I liked to be naked around the house when my wife and kids weren’t home, so I didn’t give a second though to being naked while doing laundry, or walking around the house by the windows.

I quickly returned to the bedroom where Faith was straightening herself upright on the bed, her hands still cuffed behind her. “Your laundry will be done in about forty minutes sweetheart,” I said to her. “Just after breakfast.”

“OK,” replied Faith cheerfully.

“Here,” I began, “let me take those cuffs off.”

“Please, Uncle Ken, may I keep them on, I like this,” she said imploringly.

How can an Uncle deny his niece’s request to remain naked in handcuffs?

Well, anyway, it was a weekend alone, so I helped Faith walk to the kitchen where I started to make breakfast for us. “What would you like,” I asked.

“Bacon and eggs,” replied Faith. “Daddy always makes me bacon and eggs.”

I didn’t’ ask if he did it naked. Frying bacon naked. I didn’t, I always put the bacon between paper towels on a plastic plate and microwaved it. I scrambled the eggs naked, buttered the toast naked, and fed breakfast to my naked niece whose hands were locked in leather cuffs behind her back, naked.

“BZZZT.” That was the dryer. Faith’s clothes were dry and we could all get dressed and return to a normal life for a while. I brought out her dry clothes and unstrapped the cuffs from her wrists, and told her to get dressed.

“Uncle Ken,” she began with the strange tone in her voice I had begun to recognize as ominous. “Don’t you usually take a shower in the morning?”

Well she had me there. I’m not French. I’m not even, oh whatever. “I suppose you want to take a shower with me?” I asked.

Oh well, what could I do? We went into the big walk in shower in the recently renovated master bath and washed each other. Thoroughly.

We got out of the shower and dried each other off. I told her we had to go shopping for clothes for her to wear, day and night, until her daddy got home from Kuala Lumpur on Tuesday.

By then it really was my weekend wake up time of ten in the morning. I was wearing my usual weekend dress of the same J.C Penney Plain Pockets I wore to work every day, and a tee shirt. She was wearing the shorts and top she had arrived in. We drove to the mall in my wife’s VW Bug – she had taken the Chevy wagon since she was camping with the Girl Scouts, and needed the cargo space. Driving the bug at this time of year was fun – just like driving a sports car with all the manual shifting and noise, although not quite as fast. In winter or summer the bug was miserable, what with almost no heat, and absolutely no air conditioning.

I told Faith the rules: “Here’s some money, go take it to the stores, buy some jeans, tops, underwear, and pyjamas. Otherwise spend it as you feel fit.” I handed her a hundred dollars, in cash to fund that inadequate shopping list. I might remark that $100 was considered real money back then.

“Oh, No!” Uncle Ken,” she expostulated. “I couldn’t’ possibly spend that much.”

Well, as it turned out she could, and my company was absolutely required anyway. It wasn’t enough just to go into the J.C. Penney or Sears’ kid’s departments. No, we had to go into nearly every clothing store in the mall Eventually we had picked up a pair of blue jeans that cost twice what I had ever paid for my own, some tops, and a six pack of pastel cotton panties. All that we really, really needed still was some pyjamas. I was holding her shopping bags and Faith was holding my other hand and she started pulling me into a place called “Victoria’s Secret.”

“Um, Faith,” I said, stopping at the entrance to the store. “I don’t think they have your size in here.”

Surprisingly, they did.

After all that shopping we ate lunch at Roy Roger’s, then we agreed it was time to go home. I said, “Faith, one more thing.” I didn’t tell her what I had in mind, I just led her – she wouldn’t let go of my hand, unless she was exploring the clothing racks – to the toy store. Not K.B, the upscale one, and I invited her to pick out a new stuffed animal toy to take her to bed. She picked out a big moose puppet. “Moosie!” she named it.

When we got home it was nearly three o’clock in the afternoon, and I was suffering from Male Clothing Shopping Fatigue Syndrome, a widely recognized malady. I sat down on a chair and remarked, “Darn, it’s late, and I still have to mow the grass.” I continued thoughtlessly: “I should give you a spanking for taking so long at the mall.” Seeing the expression on my niece’s face, I instantly regretted these joking words.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Uncle Ken,” she exclaimed. “It was so inconsiderate of me to take up that much of your time.”

She quickly pulled off all her clothes while I tried to explain to her it was just a humorous remark, that I didn’t really mean it, and she draped herself over my lap. She insisted she had to be punished, so I gave in and gave her three light swats on her smooth naked ass. “There, I spanked you as much as you deserve.”

“No!” she protested vigorously, “That’s not a real spanking. You have to spank me for real because I was inconsiderate,” she insisted.

I didn’t want to do it, yet I did. My hand was on her pretty little naked butt, and I gave it a moderately hard smack. She didn’t have much fat on her bones, yet her ass quivered nicely. She let out a tiny little “ow!”

“I’ll give you ten more like that, young lady, for your lackadaisical shopping habits.” I held her nude form with one hand and spanked her butt with the other, hoping I was spanking hard enough to satisfy her sense of the gravity of her transgression, while not hurting her much. At least for the first few spanks. I gained confidence as I enjoyed the view of my naked niece’s bottom, feeling her squirm against my thighs, seeing her ass cheeks vibrate under the force of my hand, feeling my penis involuntarily hardening.

The last few spanks were pretty hard, but I tried to be careful not to go too far. Her moderately loud “Ooohs”, and “Owws,” helped me to calibrate my strokes.

“There,” I said conciliatorily, “spanking’s over, all is forgiven, and I love you.” I rubbed her red rear to soothe her pain. I hoped she wasn’t about to insist on naked corner time. I pulled her up to sit on my lap. We cuddled for a bit as I kissed her tears way.

She noticed something under my pants was poking her, and she sought it out with a hand. “Would you like me to…” she began, pushing her hand inside my belt and waistband.

“No, Faith, not now,” I said regretfully. “The forecast is for rain all day tomorrow and I really have to mow the grass. Just get dressed and watch TV or read a book while I cut the grass, OK?” I said. “There’s some Disney videotapes you could watch on the VCR,” I said.

I had forgotten there were bondage videotapes in the cardboard box I had taken down from my wife’s closet shelf.

I changed into my weekend yard-work shorts and got the mower out from the shed. I used to have a riding mower, but I got rid of it when I found myself spending more time maintaining it than mowing. I switched to a basic no-frills push around gas mower. I got more exercise that way anyway, and it was cheap to replace when it wore out.

I was cutting the grass in the front yard when a mini-van pulled into the driveway. It was Vera Nickles and her daughter Jenny. I knew Jenny and Faith had been best friends before my brother moved out of town. I often had seen Jenny at family gatherings, and I was acquainted with her mother too. Jenny was carrying a sleeping bag and a backpack. “Hi Ken,” Vera said, “Jenny has missed Faith so much and I think it’s wonderful that they can get together for an overnighter.”

What could I say, besides “Ummm…”

My niece came flying out of the front door, thankfully not naked this time, crying out “Uncle Ken, Uncle Ken! I forgot to tell you, Jenny is coming to stay the night, is that OK? Please, please, please?”

Well, there’s no way an Uncle can say no to a request like that. “It’s alright with me,” I said to them. Addressing Mrs. Nickles, I said “I think you should know that Pat and my girls are camping this weekend, I’ll be the only adult here.”

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t have any problems with Jenny. If she gets rambunctious, just give her a smack on the bottom, that’ll get her attention.”

Jenny was tall, for a twelve year old, with blue eyes and long straight blond hair. She was wearing a ridiculously short skirt that exposed her thin bare legs and thighs. Her developing breasts were noticeably larger than Faith’s. Her low cut top exposed her perceptible cleavage. Had her mother really just given me permission to spank her?

She got back into her Voyager and drove off, leaving her daughter with me, leaving the question unasked and unanswered.

I told Faith to take Jenny inside and find a place to put her stuff in my daughter Sara’s bedroom, which Faith was using for now. I resumed cutting grass, while, I had no doubt, the long separated friends would yak it up. I didn’t expect they would get into any mischief. I felt a sense of relief that, with another girl here, there wouldn’t be any more of the inappropriate sexual contact I didn’t seem to be able to avoid.

I finished cutting the grass and put the mower back in the shed. I went inside to get a cold Molson’s from the refrigerator. I went back outside with the ale to cool off. After I finished it I went inside to take a shower in our recently remodeled master bath. It had a walk in shower with multiple shower heads, big enough for a husband and wife to have a good time together. There was never an intention for what happened next.

Two twelve year old girls, my raven haired niece and her golden haired friend, naked as jaybirds, quietly invaded the shower. Seizing my hands, pulling them behind my back, they clapped metal handcuffs onto my wrists. I started to protest, but a ball gag was pressed into my mouth and fastened behind my head. Apparently the girls had used the time while I had been mowing to check out the stuff in the cardboard box.

Well, obviously there was nothing I could do. They finished washing me, thoroughly, their soapy hands paying particular attention to my cock, balls, ass, and anus. After I climaxed they left me standing there while they looked to each other’s hygiene. After a bit Faith made her friend Jenny stop touching her, and she turned off the water.

They led me out of the shower and dried me off, using the white cotton bath towels from the towel rack, and dried each other off as well. Until then, they hadn’t said much, but then they began saying things like “Most of those guys didn’t look like they were having any fun.”

“Yeah, but there was that one guy, his penis was huge, and that girl with the big breasts had it in her mouth.”

“Mmm. Do you think the guy getting fucked with the strap-on dildo was having fun?”

OH MY GOD! They were talking about scenes in the bondage videos from the cardboard box.

Having led me from the shower to the bedroom, Faith announced “Uncle Ken, it’s time for your spanking.”

I couldn’t ask why I was supposed to get a spanking, but Jenny did.

“Because he had inappropriate sexual contact with a minor. My mom said that was wrong, and he should be punished,” Faith explained.

“But you asked him to do it,” Jenny argued.

“Mom said that he was supposed to have the moral strength not to do that. Uncle Ken, is there a place in the house where we can tie you standing up, with your hands up high?” Faith asked.

I couldn’t speak, what with the ball gag in my mouth, I just nodded.

“If I take the gag out will you tell me where that is?” asked Faith.

I nodded. She took it out and I gasped out “there’s a place in the basement, my workshop, there are eyebolts in the joists, but you can’t…” she pressed the ball gag back into my mouth. Jenny fastened the straps again.

The girls escorted me down the stairs to the basement, to my workshop. It was crowded between the workbench and the stationary power tools I had down there, but it was clear that there was a central square of carpet and the girls easily found the eyebolts in the unfinished ceiling. They positioned me under the eyebolts, then Jenny asked Faith “Where’s the key to the handcuffs?”

I didn’t panic at this ominous inquiry. I knew where the keys were, but the girls spent a good five minutes pawing through the sex toys in the box before they asked me, removing the ball gag so I could tell them “They’re in the jewelry box in the bedroom.” They reapplied the gag, then they ran upstairs together, and quickly returned, giggling as usual. It took them a few tries to find the right key, and they got the handcuffs off me. I stood meekly still while they replaced the metal handcuffs with leather ones and, one of them, standing on a chair, used short lengths of chains, snaphooks, and the little padlocks from the box to attach my stretched out arms to the strong eyebolts screwed six feet apart into the exposed joists above.

They put the other pair of leather cuffs on my ankles, and pulled my feet apart to attach them to the spreader bar. Once I was secure, they began pressing their naked bodies against mine, rubbing me and each other all over.

“Wow,” breathed Jenny, “His thing is as big as the guy in the video.”

“I told you so.” She gently stroked my very erect penis. “You touch it.”

Jenny stroked it too. “Not too much,” Faith warned. “We don’t want him to squirt yet.”

They rummaged through the box of sex toys looking for something they could use. I was much too aroused for the cock and ball rings, so they gave up on that. Lucky for me, none of the videos they had watched had nipple clamps in them so they didn’t know what to make of them. “Ooh, look, I know where this goes,” squealed Jenny gleefully. She began to jam the butt plug into my anus, but it didn’t want to go in.

“The girl in the video put something on it first,” Faith said doubtfully. There’s a jar of Vaseline here, try that.”

It went in much easier that way.

After a while Faith announced with no uncertainty, “Uncle Ken, It’s time for your spanking.” She used a paddle to give me ten swats with all the force a twelve year old girl could deliver. “Now it’s your turn Jenny,” she said.

Jenny protested “Why should I spank him? He didn’t do anything bad to me.”

“No, not yet,” Faith explained, “but he will if you ask him to, and then he’ll be pre-punished in advance for petting you.”

Twelve year old logic is effective among twelve year olds, but Jenny confirmed the theory, asking me “You will, if I ask you to? Pet me to orgasm?”

What could I do besides nod my head in assent, grunting “Uh Huh.”

So she gave me ten whacks, a bit harder that Faith’s, but still very nice whacks.

“Look, Faith, his penis is as hard as ever, I think he’s enjoying this,” Jenny observed correctly.

So they gave me a lot more whacks, taking turns, giggling, taking time to fondle each other. When my penis was noticeably softened, although not wibbly wobbly, they relented and stopped the paddling.

And then proceeded to get me hard again. The happy guy in the video they had watched had received a blow job. The two of them together gave me a double blow job, both of them kneeling in front of me, mouths moving up and down on either side of my penis, taking turns putting mouths entirely over the head, licking the precum, kissing each other as their lips came close, hands touching my ass, thighs, perineum, wiggling the butt plug, not being as careful with their teeth as they might have been. I ejaculated a huge pent up load of semen onto their pretty faces.

“Eww,” Jenny objected, not expecting the volume of gooey stringy white stuff. When they got me off in the shower the water had washed my cum away pretty quickly.

“Don’t worry,” replied Faith. “I’ll take care of it.” No she didn’t lick it off her friends face, she got some paper towels from the dispenser over the workbench and cleaned her friend and herself up.

The girls released me from my bonds. Faith asked with uncertainty, “Do you want me to pull the butt plug out, Uncle Ken?”

“No, I’ll do that myself. It’s better to do that in the bathroom,” I explained.

We stood around awkwardly, all naked, me with a butt plug in my rear.

“Hey girls,” I began, “It’s too late for me to cook something, would you like to go out for pizza?” I asked, thinking that if I got them out of the house normality might ensue. “We could go see a movie too,” I remarked.

“Yes!”

“Yes!”

So we went upstairs, I went into the bathroom to extract the butt plug and clean it and myself up. I took a quick shower, alone this time, and got dressed. And I found time to have a glass of badly needed wine.

We had a nice meal at the local pizza parlor. There were only three of us so we ordered slices instead of whole pies. One plain, one sausage, I had pepperoni.

We went to see a movie “The Little Mermaid,” that Faith and Jenny had been a little too young for when it was first released eight years before. We all enjoyed it.

The movie ended, at nearly ten o’clock, and after we got home again I expected we would all go to bed. The girls were still entranced with the movie and couldn’t stop talking about it. I hugged them, and told them to get ready for bed. I was still nursing another glass of wine when the girls came down again, Jenny wearing sensible flannel pj’s, and Faith wearing the see through shorty nightie I had purchased for her that morning. Her nipples and sparse black pubic hair were clearly visible through the thin fabric.

“Can we have milk and cookies now, Uncle Ken?” Faith asked sweetly.

“Sure,” I replied agreeably. Sitting at the kitchen table, talking about the movie, the girls ate cookies and drank their milk. I had some more wine. When we were finished we all went to brush our teeth, then went to bed. Jenny had brought a sleeping bag, so I got another one out for Faith so they could sleep next to each other on the carpet.

I usually fall asleep quickly, so I didn’t really know what time it was when my bedroom door opened and Faith announced “Uncle Ken, we’re scared that octopus is going to get us. Can we sleep with you?”

I had left the hall light on so they could find the bathroom in an unfamiliar house in the middle of the night easier, so I could see them clearly. They were naked again, Faith was holding Moosie, and Jenny had some other stuffed animal clutched to her. “Umm, OK, but remember, we’re getting up early tomorrow, so no fooling around,” I replied.

They sandwiched me, Faith at my back again, and Jenny in front. I didn’t have anyplace to put my hand except on her breast, and she wiggled her ass against my erection. “Stop wiggling and go to sleep,” I ordered.

We did.