My Cousin's Slave	Back to T	Back to main page

Collected by Djian
update june 9 - 2010

Other stories by Emma No Knickers
It was meant to be | The humiliating training of Emma | More humilation for Emma | My Cousin's Slave

WARNING: This story contains strong themes of coercion and forced
sexual behavior. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS only,
and the writer does not in any way suggest or condone similar
behavior.

MM/f, D/s, razor, humil, spank, exhib

My Cousin's Slave
by Emma No Knickers


MY 18-YEAR-OLD COUSIN AND HIS PAL MAKE ME INTO THEIR SLAVE EVEN
THOUGH I AM ALMOST TEN YEARS OLDER THAN THEM.



Part 1

Ever since I could remember I had always had these dreams of being
made to do all kinds of embarrassing and humiliating things. Most
of my masturbation fantasies consisted of me being put in shameful
situations, usually naked or dressed in something childish and
humiliating.

I still live with my mum, even though I am twenty-seven. Although
I have had a few boyfriends, none has ever done anything that has
really sparked my fire, so to speak.

At tea one evening, my mum casually informed me that we were having
houseguests for the summer; my cousin Simon and his friend Carl
were coming to stay. I did not see Simon all that often and had
never paid him much attention.

The prospect of having them around the house all summer did not
appeal to me at all. First of all, while they were both eighteen
and very brainy, they unfortunately looked much younger. As a
result, they were pretty much dateless and therefore tended to
be real snots.

Second, I had a secret hobby which I knew their arrival would
certainly spoil: whenever my mum was out, I loved to walk around
the house naked and imagine people could see me.

It gave me a huge thrill to be completely naked doing ordinary
things, like just watching TV, and all the time I had thoughts
of every one I knew seeing me and treating me with contempt for
being such a shameless tart!

On Saturday morning, the two boys arrived, and, as soon as they saw
me, they started to stare obscenely at me, with eyes that seemed to
be undressing me. I could not look them in the eye, and I felt
myself blush as they shook my hand. That night mum went out, and
they were in their room playing computer games. I was frustrated
because now I would usually be naked and fantasizing. I opened a
bottle of wine and began to resent their presence even though they
had not yet been here a full day.

Simon came down for a drink and cheekily asked if they could share
my wine. I knew it was wrong, but for some reason I felt myself
unable to say no to him. He even had the nerve to tell me to get
two more glasses and take them upstairs to them.

I walked into the room to find them stuck to the computer screen,
shooting some space creature, and they barely acknowledged me. I
poured them each a small glass. "Hey, you're cool," said Carl.

I soon found myself sitting on the bed beside of them as they told
me how to play the game and said I could have a go next.

It was not at the top of my list of exciting things to do on a
Saturday night, but I thought, "What the hell" and joined in.

Of course I was absolutely useless at the game, and the boys could
do nothing but laugh at me. Although I knew it was completely
absurd, it gave me a weird feeling to hear them laughing. After
I had lost one game in about two minutes flat, they said my forfeit
was to get some more wine. As I complied, a strange thrill ran
through me at the thought of them making me do a forfeit.

I lost the next game equally as quickly, and, without thinking, I
blurted out, "So what's my forfeit now?" I had never intended to
actually say it, and the room was silent as the boys looked at me
with amusement. Carl broke the silence and laughed that maybe I
should go and stand in the corner with my hands on my head until
it was my turn again. I could not believe what he had said, and
yet I knew I would go and do it without question.

I could hear them both try to stifle giggles as I put my hands on
my head, and a pure rush of shame surged through me. A thousand
thoughts ran through my head on why I was doing this, but all the
time the thrill was building inside me.

When it was my turn again, I walked back to them with my face as
red as could be. I was hopeless and played the worst game ever.
They laughed openly as I bowed my head and waited with bated breath
for what they would tell me to do next.

I could see that the wine had affected them a little (as it had
me), and I got somewhat afraid when they gave their next order.
They wanted me to take off my underwear and hand it to them, then
stand back against the wall. I told them it was outrageous, and I
could not be expected to do such a thing. (Yet all the time I was
imagining what a rush it would give me.) Carl interrupted me and
said that letting them drink that wine was just as outrageous.
How would I like my mum to know I had done that?

This was becoming surreal, here I was, 27-years-old and trying
to stop my Mum finding out I had supplied stolen wine to the
two boys. I was adamant I would not give them my underwear,
when Simon played his trump card. "We know you're wearing black
knickers. You have been showing us all night, every time you got
off the chair."

I knew my skirt was a little short, but I had no idea they could
see up it, and a fresh blush filled my cheeks. "So are you going
to do it, Emma?" grinned Carl. "Or shall we tell your mum you've
been flashing your knickers at us?" I could not reply and just
nodded my head at the boys. They were ecstatic and sat on the edge
of the bed, bubbling in anticipation.

I was wearing a t-shirt and knew it was big enough to allow me to
pull my arm out of one of the sleeves, unfasten my bra clip, and
then pull it off my other arm. I tried not to look at them while
I struggled to do it, but, out of the corner of my eye, I could see
them looking, almost mesmerized. I threw the bra at them and put
my arm back in my t-shirt. Carl then nudged Simon and grinned,
"Her tits have sagged a bit."

A thrill of humiliation hit me like a train as they both gazed at
my breasts beneath my t-shirt. "Yeah," replied Simon. "And you
can see her nipples." I knew my nips were hard and erect, and I
shuddered, imagining what the boys thought of me.

"Come on, knickers next," they laughed. My legs felt like they
would give way as I reached for the waistband and slowly pulled it
down. I felt so ashamed, but yet so excited at the same time.

"Satisfied?" I snapped as I threw them the kickers and watched as
they giggled while handling them. Then they stuffed both bra and
knickers under the mattress.

"What are you gonna do to get them back then, Emma?" said Carl,
looking smug.

"Nothing!" I almost pleaded with them not to be so mean to me and
let me have them back, since they had had their fun. They were
hysterical with laughter, but eventually Simon managed to tell me
that I had to score five thousand on the game to win my undies back.

Reluctantly I agreed to their ridiculous demand and sat down in
front of the screen. But of course it was hopeless, and I barely
scored half the total I needed. Despite this, I knew deep inside
me that this was what I wanted. I waited with the adrenaline
running through me, wondering what they would do now.

They seemed to have calmed down a lot and looked serious. The
whole atmosphere was more intense, and I was beginning to feel
fear as well as excitement. "So what do you want to do, Emma,
to earn your knickers?" smiled Simon. Without really thinking,
I just mumbled that I would show them my bum for five seconds.
Carl looked at me and sneered, "Ok, Emma, lets have a look."

I turned round and began to lift my skirt. Simon whispered, "Oh,
god! She's really going to do it." And then my skirt was high
above my waist, the cool air bathing my exposed bum.

"Brilliant," breathed Carl. "I think you should stay like that
until we say so, don't you, Emma?"

I could hardly speak, but managed to whisper, "Yesss." They
acknowledged me with a quiet laugh. I stood perfectly still,
trying not to clench my bum cheeks. I trembled under their
gaze.

"what a cute arse," Simon said, and then he told me to walk
backwards to them so they could feel it.

"No! That's not part of the deal." I wanted to scream and run out
of the room. But they sounded so sure of themselves, telling me
that, if I did not behave, then they would simply hand my underwear
to my mum when she came home and tell her that I had stripped for
them.

I shuffled backwards, obediently, knowing I was now totally under
their control and would have to do whatever they told me. This
thought made me almost gasp out loud.

I gave a little squeal of apprehension when Carl's hand touched my
bum cheek, causing both the boys to giggle. I began to breathe
heavier as Carl stroked my bum. He encouraged Simon to have a feel
as well, and soon four hands were roaming all over my buttocks.
They were laughing merrily about how they could make them wobble.

I am not sure who it was, but I was given a crisp smack that made
me jump, and then, after a moment's silence, another one...harder.
A few more smacks followed, and I shuffled about and moaned in
protest.

Carl said, "This what she needs, a good arse-smacking." As he
continued to smack my bum, he taunted me, "Do you like this, Emma
-- having your bum smacked like a four-year-old?"

"Nooo, please don't," I begged, but it fell on deaf ears as he just
carried on. I could feel my cheeks begin to burn, and I was
struggling to stand still as the smacks became fewer...but a lot
harder.

"Wow, this is fantastic," Carl laughed. "Look how red I've made
her arse." I put my hands to my stinging bum cheeks to rub them.

"Turn round," yelled Carl. My mind was spinning as I obeyed,
grateful at least that my skirt had fallen down to cover my pubic
hair.

"What's the matter, does your bum hurt?" said Simon with a huge
smirk. I couldn't -- or rather wouldn't -- answer. I was on the
verge of tears, but did not want to give them the satisfaction of
knowing they had made me cry so easily.

"Emma!" came a shout from downstairs, and I stumbled in blind panic
for a second. Simon and Carl seemed to sober up immediately and
sat innocently at the computer. I snatched up the wine bottle and
pushed it under the bed, at the same time desperately trying to
find my discarded underwear. I gave one last stretch under the
bed, but it was no use, and, with my face flushed as red as my
backside, I hurried from the room as my mum was walking up the
stairs.

I just managed to get to the bathroom before she saw me. While I
was plunging my face under some cold water, she was outside on the
landing talking to me, telling what a good evening she had and
asking if the boys had given me any trouble.

I would have laughed if it were not so absurd. If you don't count
losing my underwear to them and getting my bare bum spanked like
a child, of course they gave me no trouble. I just muttered a
quick, "No-no; they were fine," and took a deep breath to compose
myself before opening the door.

I wanted to go straight to bed, but she reminded me to go and tidy
up downstairs, and, while I worked, she continued to talk to me.
I could feel my nipples become hard as I thought about her seeing
my red bum beneath my skirt. I'd die of shame if she ever learned
that my young cousin and his friend had just given my bare bum a
sound spanking.

I am sure she noticed I was braless. She gave me a disapproving
look as at last I could retreat the safety of my bedroom.

I was desperate to see my bum. I flung off my skirt and t-shirt
and twisted in front of the mirror. I was almost disappointed to
see that it was only slightly pink. As I ran my hands over it, I
imagined the boys giving me a very severe thrashing as the price
for recovering my underwear.

It was this line of thought that filled my mind as I lay in bed and
let my fingers wander between my legs to masturbate myself to sleep.

******************************


Part 2

In the morning the stark reality of what had happened dawned on me,
and I was dreading seeing the boys. I could hear them talking and
laughing as I walked past their room to the shower. I saw in the
mirror that my bum had no traces left of last night's spanking.

Back in my room I opened my wardrobe and looked for something
to wear. The thought of the boys seeing me nearly naked again
was almost overpowering, and I felt compelled to wear something
attractive for them. I chose pink satin knickers and a matching
push-up bra. I trembled as I looked in the mirror, imagining
them seeing me like this. I decided to wear a childish, short
summer dress that was fairly low cut, along with a pair of white
sandals. When I ventured downstairs, Mum looked very surprised at
what I was wearing and asked where I was going. She seemed puzzled
when I replied, "Nowhere," but then, as the boys walked in, she
noticed them gape at me, and she gave me a disgusted look.

Mum's obvious disapproval continued throughout breakfast as the
boys never took their eyes off my cleavage. Just out of Mum's
earshot, Carl whispered to me, "How's your bum, Emma?" Both boys
to suppress laughter. Mum asked what was the matter, and I could
feel my face burn red with the humiliation.

After I'd endured a few more teasing comments from the boys every
time Mum turned her back, breakfast finally ended. The boys went
off to watch television, I stood at the sink to wash the dishes,
and Mum went upstairs to make the beds. Shortly, I got the feeling
of someone staring at me, and I turned round to see Carl sitting on
the kitchen worktop. "You look cute this morning," he smiled.

I did not know what to say and mumbled, "Thank you."

He reached into his pocket and took out my knickers from last
night. "Want them back?" He grinned and waved them around
triumphantly. "Me and Simon are going for a walk this morning.
Are you coming?" he asked, but I knew it was not a question that
needed an answer. "Somewhere quiet," he added.

I could not believe it when he actually asked Mum if she knew
anywhere nice and quiet that we could go for a walk. He made
a point of mentioning that I had offered to go with them.

She looked me up and down with a gaze of utter dismay and snapped,
"Oh did she now?" I dread to think what was going through her mind.

Just as we were going through the door I noticed that I still had
on sandals and realised that they were not very practical for
walking. I ran upstairs to get my trainers, but discovered I
would have to wear socks as well. I put on some white ankle socks
and looked in the mirror. Crikey! I looked like a ten-year-old,
but -- god help me -- I DID want to be seen like this.

As we started off, the boys told me I looked cool, and then Simon
remarked that he hoped I was going to "behave." I blushed and
nodded, but Carl made me actually promise to be "a good girl."

We were soon well out in the countryside, and Carl took my black
knickers out of his pocket. "So what are you going to do to earn
them back?"

I looked at the ground and replied hesitantly, "I don't know.
Maybe you can smack my bum some more."

Laughing, Simon asked me, "So you like having your bum smacked?"

The trouble was that I did like it, but I didn't want them to know
it, so I pretended to be upset and begged them not do it. Without
thinking, I offered to strip for them instead, right here.

As soon as the words came out, I knew what a mistake I had made.
They agreed in unison that that was what I should do. I was almost
in tears as I pleaded with them that I didn't actually mean that;
I would strip once we were at home and Mum was out again.

But they were having none of it, and I was told to take every
stitch off right now or they would hand my knickers over to Mum
when we got home.

I begged hard, but to no avail; they were not relenting at all.
With real tears running down my cheeks, I unzipped the back of
my dress. With one last "please," I let the dress fall to my
knees and stepped out of it. Carl held his hand out, and I
picked up the dress and gave it to him. "Thank you," he said,
smugly, and hid it behind some bushes. Simon congratulated him
on his "wicked" idea, and I was told to carry on walking.

I was just a few yards in front of them and could hear them talking
about me constantly.

"Look at that arse wobble."

"She's enjoying this really."

I gasped as Carl said, "Wait until she's stark bollock naked."
And they erupted into laughter again.

We were out in a fairly remote, but every once in a while I heard
other people and looked round desperately to discover if I could
be seen.

After walking up a steep hill, I was out of breath, and we paused.
Abruptly, Simon said that it was not fair that Carl had a pair of
my knickers and he didn't. The two of them sat on a rock and
told me that I could fix that. It was useless to protest, and
unable to bear their grinning faces, I turned my back on them.
Slowly I eased down my pink knickers and stepped out of them,
instinctively holding them in front of my crotch when I turned
to face them.

"Oh, are we a shy little girl?" mocked Simon as he held out his
hand. "Little girl" indeed! For god's sake I'm a 27-year-old
woman. What on earth was I doing behaving like this? With one
hand clutching my soft brown pubes to shield them from view, I
handed Simon my knickers.

He grabbed them from me and pulled them tight between both hands
to stretch them as far as he could, then flicked Carl with them.
They were laughing and joking as Carl retaliated with my black
pair, and soon they were running round trying to flick each other.

I was standing motionless as this childish spectacle took place
around me, when one of them flicked my bum sharply from behind.
Carl piped up that he had a good idea.

I listened nervously as he told me he wanted me to run to the top
of the hill -- about half a mile away -- and back again. I begged
them not to make me do it...with the usual result. "You need to
lose a few pounds anyway," laughed Carl.

Simon joined in, "Yeah, off your fat arse."

Their crude remarks and mocking laughter stung more than last
night's spanking. As I set off on my embarrassing task, the
area became much more open, and I could be seen for miles. I
imagined how ridiculous I must look. The fact that I was still
wearing my push-up bra made me even more conscious of my pathetic
appearance, and I prayed I would not be seen.

There was a footpath running up the side of the hill. I had gone
some distance when disaster struck. Three hikers (also headed
uphill) appeared straight in front of me. I don't know who was
more surprised, them or me. I staggered to a halt with my hands
pressed between my legs and looked at the bemused expressions on
their faces. "Good morning," said one, and I almost laughed at
the absolute absurdity of having to reply "Good morning" to three
middle-aged men whilst wearing white ankle socks, trainers, and
a pink push-up bra.

Nevertheless, I acknowledged the greeting and quickly explained
that I was doing a dare my friends had set me -- running to the
top of the hill and back. I mumbled how sorry I was and began
to jog past them, still keeping my hands over my pussy. They all
smiled at me and said how I had made their day. I cringed with
shame as I felt their eyes on my bouncing bum cheeks once I was
past them.

I can't describe the feeling I had as I continued to run, knowing
that at any minute I might be seen again. I imagined all kinds of
people seeing me, from old men to families with children, and
shuddered at the thought (but yet excited, too).

At last I reached the top and paused for a moment to look round.
I was gazing at the clump of trees where the boys were when the
sound of voices made me freeze with fear. I had nowhere to hide
as a couple came from behind some rocks. They almost fell down
from shock at seeing me, and I stuttered my story of carrying out
a dare. I told them I was just stopping for a minute to get my
breath back. As the man looked me up and down the women gave him
a sharp nudge. "Shameless tart," she spat. "Why don't you piss
off and get your thrill somewhere else?" I hurried away, my face
burning with shame.

I started back down the hill. I could see the three men coming up
towards me, but I didn't really care about my near full frontal
display; I just tried to run as fast as I could past them. I was
running so fast that my breasts were barely contained in my bra,
and, as I got close to them it gave up altogether. I stumbled and
staggered, not slowing down in front of them, yet desperately
trying to push my lewdly bouncing boobs back inside my bra. I
could imagine how ridiculous I must look, my breasts flailing and
bouncing. Once out of their sight, I stopped and adjusted my bra
before moving off more slowly for the relative safety of the trees.

I heard the boys before I could see them, and, as I rounded the
last bend I almost collapsed from exhaustion and sheer relief.
Bent over, with my hands on my knees, gasping for breath...when
I saw what they were doing I wanted to cry.

They had each made a sort of catapult with a broken branch and my
knickers as the sling and were having a competition to see who
could throw a hard green berry the farthest.

I was absolutely mortified as Simon stretched out my pink knickers
as tight as could be between the vee of the branch and then held a
berry right in the crotch and fired it away.

They had stripped me nearly naked, and all they were interested in
were stupid childish games. I just wanted to curl up and cry at
the humiliation, when Carl at last paid me some attention.

"Hey, enjoy your run, you fat bitch?" he laughed.

I was shocked at how insulting he was and shouted back, "You don't
have to call me names. I am NOT fat!"

He smiled at me. "So your not fat, OK, but you are a bitch, aren't
you?" I shook my head, but could not bring myself to look him in
the eye. "Or...do you want us to show Mummy our new toys?" joined
in Simon.

My mouth was dry, and I could feel the cold sweat running down my
back as I looked up at them. "Yes, I am a bitch," I whispered.

"Louder!" barked Carl.

"I am a bitch," I shouted again and again as they laughed at me.

"Now we want a nice target to aim at with our new toys," said Carl.
And before I realised what was happening, they had me kneeling on
all fours on the grass. I shuddered with shame as they sat down a
few yards behind me, and it dawned on me that they were going to
aim at my bum. The first one whizzed past my ear, and I thought
how much it would surely hurt when it hit me. But then the thought
of pain soon vanished from my mind.

"Open wide," laughed Simon, and I realised he wanted me to open my
legs.

"Please NO!" I begged. "You can't make me do that. You'll see
everything!"

They just burst into raucous laughter. Carl walked over and gave
me two slaps to my upturned rump as hard as he could. "I can carry
on like that all day until you do," he snarled, and I knew it was
hopeless to offer any resistance.

I closed my eyes tight shut and sighed a deeply as I moved my
knees. "Wider!" he snapped and wasn't satisfied until my legs
were thrust obscenely apart. I could feel the breeze between
my thighs and knew that all I had was on open display to my
teenage cousin and his pervert friend.

I soon forgot my lost dignity as a berry stung my bum, amid cheers
from the boys. They carried on their game for what seemed like an
eternity, only interrupted by mocking comments about what they
could see of me.

"Look at her hairy cunt."

"It's a pity smacking her arse makes too much noise."

"The dirty bitch is even showing her arse hole...."

I suddenly remembered that it was getting late and we had promised
to be back home for tea, so I told the boys that we had to go now.
But before I got up, Simon said he had one last surprise for me.
I could hear them whispering, and I could sense them both walk up
to me. I knew they were taking a close look. I was allowed up,
and Carl told me to bend over a little and pull my bum cheeks apart
with my hands. "Oh god," I sobbed, but they reminded me they had
just had a thorough look at my wide open bum hole. What was I
possibly shy about?

I did what they told me and then swallowed hard as I felt their
fingers between my bum cheeks. I could feel something cold as
well and listened in astonishment as they explained they'd placed
two berries in the cleft of my bum...and I was to clench my
buttocks all the way home to keep them from dropping out.

"Look! She's waddling like a duck." They laughed at my obscene
attempt to keep the berries in place. As we walked back to where
my dress was hidden, they told me that they had marked the two
berries, and the owner of the one that stayed in the longest was
going to give me a good spanking the next time Mum went out.

I outwardly cringed as they made me admit that it was what I
deserved and that I wanted my bottom soundly smacked like a
child. Carl ran ahead to retrieve my dress as I continued to
walk in the most ridiculous way possible.

"Can I ask you something, Emma?" said Simon. "You're enjoying all
this aren't you?"

I could only stammer, "No, of course not...."

"Ha! You could have fooled me," he chortled and he ran to catch
up with Carl.

******************************


Part 3

The dress was horribly screwed up and creased. Carl handed it to
me, and, without waiting for me to awkwardly fasten the zip myself,
they strode off, still laughing from their outrageous treatment of
me.

They walked in front of me, laughing and chatting, and every so
often looking back at me and asking if the berries were safe. I
tried my best to keep my bum cheeks together, and this prevented
me from walking as fast as they were. Of course, they still had
my knickers in their hands and made no attempt to hide them as
people walked by, even occasionally stretching them to flick
each other.

When we were only a few yards from home, I pleaded with the boys to
give me them back, but of course they ignored me completely. As
they opened the door to the house I was relieved to see that they
had put them in their pockets. I was desperate to get to my room
and change before Mum saw the state I was in. Carl walked into the
lounge and told me to join him while Simon went to talk to Mum in
the kitchen.

I was horrified to learn that he wanted to look at the berries
right there, with my mum in the next room. I begged him not to
do this to me and promised again to do anything he wanted...but
not here. He took out my knickers and draped them across an arm
of the sofa. "I guess I will leave them here for everyone to see,"
he sneered.

I knew it was useless to protest any longer, and I lifted my dress
and bent over to show him my bum. He said he could see the berries
between my cheeks and told me to open my legs and let them fall.
I did as I was told, my heart racing even faster when I realized
the curtains were wide open and anyone walking up the drive would
see everything.

I could feel the two berries lodged sideways across my anus, and,
although I couldn't open my legs any wider, they still stayed in
place. Carl gave a little laugh when he noticed. "Looks like
they need some help, Emma." For a second I thought he was about
to take hold of them. But noooo! He simply ordered me to wriggle
and squirm to try to make the berries fall.

I hesitated, only to be reminded that I was not moving until they
had fallen and Mum might walk in any time.

I was facing the door and instinctively looked up, not daring even
to imagine my mother seeing me like this. I began to lewdly shake
my bum from side to side to make the berries fall. I continued to
thrust and shimmy, performing a quite vulgar display in front of
his grinning face until at last I felt the berries loosen and fall.

He thought both the berries fell out together and proclaimed the
result a draw, but then a wicked smile stole across he face. He
told me to kneel in front of him as he picked the berries off the
floor. Before I could stop him he had forced my mouth open and put
the berries inside. "Don't swallow, Emma," he laughed. "They may
be poisonous." He told me to keep them in my mouth while he went
to fetch Simon. He seemed to be gone ages, and all I could think
about was where the berries had been just a short while earlier --
touching my own bum hole and being squeezed by my bum cheeks. I
felt sick at the thought, but, even worse, I felt so humiliated
letting myself be treated like this by two boys so much younger
than me.

All of a sudden the door opened, and I was still on my knees where
Carl had left me; I had never thought about moving. "Oh, god!
Look at the bitch. She's loving every second of this," exclaimed
Simon.

He held his hand under my mouth and told me to let one of the
berries drop. I could not bear to look at him as he gazed at
it to see whose it was. Carl gave a triumphant "Yes!" followed
by long, satisfied laugh. I was left in no doubt who would be
smacking my bum at the first chance he got.

The shout that tea was ready spared me further shame...at least
I thought so for a moment. I was given one last choice before we
went into the dining room: I could give my bra to Carl now or he
would put my knickers somewhere in the room and wait to see who
found them. A second shout from Mum made me tremble. How on earth
could I let him hide my knickers, knowing it was her who was most
likely to find them. "Please, Carl...." I was near tears as he
held out his hand for my bra, and I felt my hands going to the
clasp, his gloating eyes watching every move.

He put both my knickers and my bra under his jumper and pushed me
in front of him through the door.

I could see instantly the look of disapproval from my mum. As I
took my seat, I glanced down to look at my boobs. I wanted to
curl up and just cry. The material of the dress was so thin and
it was so tight that my nipples were clearly and obscenely showing.
(But what was so much worse was that they were becoming hard on
account of my shame.)

"Look at the state of you, my girl," Mum snapped. "Don't you dare
think you're sitting here looking like that." Carl tried to hold
back a giggle as I stood up, my face burning with embarrassment.

I could only imagine what was going through her mind, as she looked
me up and down, my crumpled dress and braless tits for all to see.
Sobbing, I ran from the room. I just couldn't face going back
downstairs and lay on my bed crying with the utter frustration of
it all. Part of me wanted them to torment and even spank me, but
this was more that I could take. (I had only myself to blame,
however.)

A little while later, Mum called me downstairs and told me she
was going to stay a few days with grandma, as she was not well.
I stood silently as she admonished me to keep the house tidy,
make the boys their meals, and, especially, to "behave yourself,
my girl." Simon and Carl had grins like Cheshire cats as she
continued to lecture me, finally warning, "And I have asked the
boys to tell me if you don't."

This was a nightmare! How could she choose now of all times to go
and leave me at the mercy of those two fiends? She had barely
closed the door, and Carl was already confronting me. "Is poor
little Emma going to have her bum smacked then?"

This was absurd. How could I have been so foolish to let things go
this far? Even so, despite my acute humiliation, I felt a peculiar
thrill run through me.

The boys decided that they would like some beer for tonight, since
smacking my bum was bound to be thirsty work. I was trying to tell
them that I would not buy them any when Carl walked behind me and
gave me a sharp slap across my already sore bum. And then he gave
me another.

"Listen, bitch," he snarled. "You are our toy now, and we will
play what ever games we want with you. Understand?" I sobbed,
"Yes." Simon seemed to approve of the way his friend was treating
me. I was told to undress in front of them until I was stark
naked, and I obeyed without hesitation. I had really been mastered
by Carl now.

I stood with my legs slightly apart and my hands behind me as he
walked round me. Simon sat on the sofa with a strange smile on
his face at my discomfort. I promised Carl I would do anything he
told me, and he made me admit I was a dirty bitch and needed this
shame to teach me who was in charge.

Carl looked across at Simon. "I told you your cousin was one of
them submissive sluts, didn't I?" He went on to talk about how
he had read some stuff on the Internet about women who get off on
being told what to do and having their bums smacked.

I shamelessly agreed with him that I was a submissive little slut
who craved this treatment. But I begged them not to tell anyone.

Carl took hold of my nipple and gave it a squeeze. "Depends if
you're a good girl, Emma," he sneered.

I promised I would indeed be a good girl, and he ran his hands
down to my thatch of pubic hair. "I notice that a lot of you
submissive sluts have their pubes shaved, Emma," he said. I
gasped. "Would you like that?" he continued. Simon got up off
the sofa and ran upstairs, saying he had a "cool idea." I waited
with bated breath to see what they'd do next.

"Look!" Simon shouted and held up a brand new electric shaver,
still boxed. "My dad bought me this as a graduation present. I
haven't needed to use it yet, and it'd be so cool to christen it
on your cunt hair, Emma." In between fits of laughter, the boys
decided that would be a "way cool" idea. I looked down at my
dark brown bush and shuddered to think that two 18-year-old boys
(who looked more like 14-year-olds) were about to shave it all off.

Simon eagerly opened the box and then gave a wail of despair when
he found that the battery needed charging for one hour at least.
Carl was not disappointed, though. He told me I had time to go to
the shop and buy some beer for them. I started to get dressed, but
he stopped me, saying that, since I had admitted I was a slut, I
should look like one in public as well as in private.

"Ohhhhhhh please no please," I begged. "You can't! You promised
not to tell anyone else if was a good girl." I felt ridiculous
having to beg two boys, but beg them I did. They were only too
pleased to take me to my room and decide what I should wear. I
was told to braid my hair while they searched through my wardrobe.
As Simon looked for the shortest skirt he could find, Carl emptied
my underwear drawer. "We're going to keep all your knickers and
bras, Emma," he casually informed me...as if he were doing me a
favour.

Simon gave a hoot of delight and held up a tiny black skirt. "Oh,
god, Simon, NO!" I shrieked. It was an old netball skirt I last
wore when I was sixteen. "Please! You can't expect me to wear
that." But of course they did. When I finished my hair and turned
to see what they had laid out for me, I was beyond humiliation.

Carl had brought my sandals to begin with, and they giggled to
each other as I put them on first. Then the ridiculous excuse
for a skirt, which I could not even fasten and had to have the
side zipper half way down and the waist held by a safety pin.
I was grateful that at least they had chosen a long white blouse,
which covered my waist and the zip even if it was a little
see-through. I began to button up the blouse when Carl stopped
me. "Oh no, Emma, just tie the bottom."

I gasped in shock when I saw myself in the mirror and begged Carl
to at least let me fasten one or two of the buttons on the blouse.
From the tie at the bottom, it was open all the way to the top and
only just contained my boobs. Any movement and my breasts would
simply fall out. Carl relented for once and agreed that I could
fasten a couple of buttons just below my "tits." I was happy that
my breasts would stay covered at any rate, but it also had the
effect of pulling the material tight and making my nipples more
visible.

I asked Carl if I could have some knickers, and he told me to ask
him properly.

"Please may I have some knickers, sir?"

He paused for a moment then said, "No." I pleaded again that the
skirt was far too short to wear out in public. Even when I stood
still it barely covered my pussy and my bum.

"Well, I'll tell you what. What you're mainly concerned about is
people seeing your cunt-hair. So, what I WILL do is minimise
that." He flourished a pair of Mum's scissors at me and proceeded
to flip up my skirt and trim my hair down to a mere stubble,
through which my red, puffy pussy-lips were clearly visible.

As I left the house, I hoped and prayed I would not meet anyone I
knew. Every step caused the air to blow through my legs and remind
me how practically naked I was.

Why was I accepting all this so easily?

******************************

[Emma is notorious for breaking off a story at an inconvenient
spot. Though she once promised me to try writing more of this
tale, nothing has resulted. I do think the trip to the shop
should be included, and, since she has approved of my editorial
handling in the past, I adapted a relevant portion of her "I Got
More Than I Asked For." The final paragraphs were easy to deduce.
-- C. L.]

Under normal circumstances, the shop was a short, pleasant walk.
Although it would probably be not very busy this time of day, I
knew I would at least have to face the shopkeeper, an oily,
40-something Levantine who tended to leer at me even when I was
respectably dressed. I shuddered to think about showing up in
THIS outfit.

I had no choice, however, so I set off, braless and knickerless,
my bare bottom undoubtedly still red from the spanking. Oh, my
god, this was SO humiliating! What if I met someone along the way?
How could I possibly explain this? The breeze continued to blow,
flapping my skirt. I passed a few people walking in the opposite
direction, down the other side of the road, but no one seemed to
pay me much attention.

At last I got to the shop. It was empty, except for the smarmy
shopkeeper, who was leaning idly on the counter and looking quite
amused.

"So you've been a naughty girl, have you, Emma?" I nervously tried
to bluff, but he interrupted me. "Nah-nah. I've just spoken to
your cousin on the telephone, and he's told me all about you.
Among other things that you like going about flaunting your bare
bum. Now bend over and show me. I want to see if it is true."

Before I could reply, he added that, if I did not do as he said,
he would ring the police and tell them I was a shoplifter. My
heart racing, I begged, "Please, s-sir, someone might walk in any
moment."

"Get on with it then, Emma."

Having no choice, I turned round and flipped up the back of my
dress.

"A well-spanked, bare bum...of which you must be very proud,
parading it about like this," he mocked.

I quickly let the skirt fall back down (though it didn't cover
much) and asked if I could get some beer and go.

"Not until I see the view from the front." I glanced at the door
to see if anyone were coming and then lifted up the front of the
skirt. "No curls left, but still a lot of stubble," he commented.
"Though I'm told you won't have that much longer."

I put the skirt back down and whined, "Please, sir, somebody will
see me." But he barked that he had not had a good enough look.

"Go into the storeroom and strip naked," he hissed. What else
could I do? It did not take long to remove the blouse, skirt,
and sandals. Naked and sweating, I waited all too eagerly for
my next command.

"I want you to open your legs as wide as you can," he snapped. It
was turning me on, and I could feel my pussy starting to get wet.
The more demanding he was becoming the more excited it was making
me.

I was almost too turned-on to care if a hundred people were
watching. I took a deep breath and moved my feet as far apart
as I could and actually thrust out my crotch. He gazed in
amazement and let me stand for what seemed like an eternity.
"I don't believe this. You're enjoying it, aren't you?" he
grinned. I nodded, tentatively. "Okay, my fine little slut,
show me your arse again," he ordered. I turned round again,
and then he told me to bend right down as far as I could go.
With my legs straight and so wide apart, I knew he could see
absolutely everything I had. "Grab your ankles and bend your
knees a little." I could feel my bum cheeks open wide when I
assumed this new position.

He came up behind me and began feelind my bottom. His fingers
spider-walked down the cleft of my bum and played with my arsehole.

"Slap! "Slap!"

He gave me two hard smacks and gave me my new orders.

"You'll have to work a while here to earn the beer your friends
want. This place is filthy. Move the stock over into the far
corner and scrub down the rest of the room, then do that corner.
You're lucky the stock is low; there should be a big shipment
coming in later in the week. You'll find a bucket, scrub-brush,
and cleanser back there somewhere. And there's a faucet just
outside the back door."

"Outside? But...."

"Oh, don't worry. There's a high fence, and no one's going to see
you," he grinned. "Except me."

He went back behind his counter (from which point he could watch
me through the open doorway), picked up the phone, and dialed a
number. I heard him saying, "Yes, she is fine. I've got her
stripped starkers, scrubbing the storeroom floor." He laughed.
He continued to talk about me, some of which I caught and some I
didn't, but, just before he hung up, he laughed and said something
about the "security cameras."

Oh, god!

******************************

It took about half an hour to move all the boxes into the corner
and over an hour to scrub the floor. I guess I was lucky at that,
for it was lineoleum and, though dirty, in sound condition. It
was therefore much easier than if it had been rotten wood or
crumbling concrete (which I had expected).

All the while, customers kept coming and going -- though none was
quite able to see me -- and I tried to work quietly. Still, the
knowledge that, any time, the shopkeeper could have invited someone
to have a look into the storeroom kept me constantly aroused.

When I had finished the floor and re-distributed the stock, I
was hungry and thirsty (having missed my tea) as well as hot
and dirty and bathed in sweat. He took me out back and hosed
me down (with icy water!) until I was reasonably clean again,
then made me dance about to dry off. He "helped out" by
smacking my bottom from time to time.

At last he told me I could go...but ordered me to return the
following week for more of the same, adding that he would in
the meantime think of something really humiliating for me to
do...since I obviously loved it so much.

Maybe he was right.

******************************

It was getting dark when I made the return trip, and, by that time,
I didn't much care who saw me. I could barely wait to get back.
I must admit that I hoped the boys were not finished with me yet.

My hopes were realized. Not only did I get another sound spanking
and have to serve them beer while completely naked, but I also had
to tell them exactly what had happened at the shop...and even admit
how exciting it had been. Finally, I had to submit to Simon's
electric razor. It took a long, long time to shave me smooth, and
meanwhile the heat and irritation and vibration made me cum over
and over and over.

And I had to "return the favour"...the rest of the evening, all
night, and some of the following morning....



Edited by C. Lakewood

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