Uncle And His Bad Niece

I was sitting in Dad’s study using the computer when something hit me in the chest and fell into my lap. Surprised, I looked down and saw that it was a dog collar, one of those black leather ones with little pointed metal studs all over it and a surprisingly delicate silver buckle.

“Put it on,” the voice from the doorway said roughly. My mind went blank. The idea was too much to comprehend and I couldn’t even begin to process it. Uncle Mitch wanted me to put on a dog collar?

It was pretty late at night, and I really shouldn’t have even been up. Probably wouldn’t have been, but Dad and Mom were on vacation and they’d left me in the care of Mom’s little brother in spite of my protestations that I was old enough to be left alone for a few weeks. Legally I was. I was old enough to vote, even. But Mom insisted that she’d feel safer if there was a ‘responsible adult’ watching over the house, and I was not to consider him a babysitter.

Babysitter or not, I had no idea what he was trying to get me to do. I shook my head in disbelief and squeaked out a response that was disbelieving and angry.

“What?”

“Put. It. On. Now.” And yes, I could hear the periods. Uncle Mitch spoke in a low and reasonable tone but with an undercurrent of demand, as if he knew I was going to obey him eventually and I just didn’t know it yet.

Uncle Mitch had never talked to me like that before. He was usually an easygoing guy, and in spite of my fears we’d gotten along pretty well. He worked as a manager in the annuities department of a life insurance company — all business suits, lunch meetings, Blackberries and talk of cross subsidies and equity indexed products.

Today when he got home he had doffed his white shirt, tie and jacket and changed into a soft suede shirt in a dark shade of gray that complemented his darker gray slacks and almost matched his prematurely dark gray hair. The one splash of color on him was his eyes; a pale sky blue which I’d always been jealous of. But overall he was an all grey man, with an ever-so-slight roughness to him and a stocky body. I’d always thought he was kind of sexy. In a guy-I’d-never-ever-really-do-it-with kind of way.

Uncle Mitch sighed as if I was a willful child who might behave someday if she was only taught some proper lessons. He put his hand on the top of my head and turned me to face the computer. He kept his hand there, forcing me to watch the screen while he typed with his free hand. A few clicks later and what he wanted me to see was up on the screen.

It was me.

And I’m not talking about a picture from my yearbook or the tame ones that I kept on MySpace and facebook. It was a movie. A movie that I’d never seen before, one that I never even knew I was in. My mouth fell open and I blushed in stunned shame.

You could easily see that it was me through the open driver’s door of the car, sitting in the passenger seat but bent over so that my face was in the driver’s lap, a slight smile on my face and my eyes closed in mute pleasure while I sucked Billy Whittier’s dick until it shot a huge load of sperm all over my lips and face. I watched myself giggle and lick everything clean, using my tongue to gather cum from everywhere until my mouth was full. I smiled and showed my bad-girl tongue-load of sperm to Billy. He told me to swallow it all like a good little girl and I did, just before the video faded out.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

I remembered that night well. Billy had driven me up to Lookout Mountain, which had long been the local necking spot because of the romantic view of the city. I thought we were going to have some hot backseat sex, but Billy begged me to blow him. Not that I minded. There’s something about hot sticky sperm splashing around my lips that I’ve always loved. I remembered Billy had insisted on leaving the car door open because he claimed he was hot. Of course that also left the dome light on, which made it easy for someone to make a video from the safety of the nearby bushes. The realization that I’d been used by Billy and somebody else so that they could sell the video to a website called Cuntsincars.com made me sick to my stomach.

Uncle Mitch pushed my head down, turning my attention from my cummy lips on the screen back to the studded black leather in my lap.

“Put it on,” he said patiently.

“No!” I practically screamed, shaking my head free of his hand. I was so goddamned mad at what Billy had done to me that the anger just spilled out onto Uncle Mitch. I didn’t know why he wanted me to put on a stupid dog collar, and I didn’t know why he thought that showing me a movie of me with sperm all over my lips would make me want to. I was such an idiot I couldn’t even predict what he said next.

“Put it on, sweetie, or I show this website to your mother.”

Oh, God.

I couldn’t believe it. This was exactly the kind of thing that my father had always warned me about. Being a little too loose with my affections had just led me to a place I didn’t want to go at all.

And I bet even Dad never thought that the trouble I’d let myself in for would come from Uncle Mitch by way of Billy Whittier.

If Dad saw the movie he’d kill me. And then Mom would kill me. And then Dad would kill me again. They knew I’d been dating, and they even had seen me kissing a boy now and again, but they probably hoped that I was still a virgin and turned a blind eye to the instincts that told them I wasn’t.

You try to hide your sex life from your parents for as long as you can, hopefully until you’re old enough to move out. But the lure of all of those hot high-school cocks longing for attention was too much for a girl to resist, and I’d had my share. Maybe a little more than my share. I was so dead.

The video started again, Billy moaning as he shot his load all over my face. My mind raced. Was there a way that I could claim that it wasn’t me, or that I was being forced? Nope. The video, though grainy and dark and clearly homemade, showed my face perfectly. And the way that I smiled when the hot sperm hit my lips pretty much belied any coercion. I was screwed.

Uncle Mitch let go of my head with a little shove downward, so that I wouldn’t forget his presence or the order he’d issued.

Reluctantly I reached down into my lap and picked up the collar.

I stared down at it, stalling and turning it this way and that in my lap. It was really kinda pretty, and I felt a little tingle between my legs. Why did Uncle Mitch want me to wear it, anyhow?

He cuffed the back of my head hard enough to hurt. Then he said it again, but this time with a trace of impatience. “Put it on.”

I was so mixed up. I wanted to scream at him, to unleash some of the anger that Billy Whittier’s betrayal had generated in me. I wanted to throw the damn collar at him and storm up to my room to cry and lick my wounds and plot my revenge. I was going to kill Billy.

But there was something else, a sweet little tingle that had nothing to do with my anger. It took me a second to realize what it was.

I’d never been ordered around before.

All of the teenage boys I knew were so pitifully grateful that a pretty girl was willing to pay any attention to them that they’d never in a million years take a chance of displeasing me by daring to tell me what to do. No boy had ever talked to me in that tone of voice before, issuing stern commands that he expected me to obey.

I felt myself blush when I realized I kind of liked it. It was so masculine, and it made me feel shy and girly.

Besides, I was wondering just what Uncle Mitch had in mind. I mean, was he going to make me stand in the corner and take a picture of me to show Mom, letting her see what a slut I was without showing her a video of me with a cock in my mouth? Or was he going to just threaten me with a picture of me wearing a dog collar so that he could blackmail me into behaving forever? Or was he just going to laugh so that I’d be even more humiliated than I already was and yell at me about showing some backbone and stop blowing boys in cars? Maybe he was going to stop me the second I tried to put it on and give me a lecture about not doing just any old thing that I was ordered. That was it. It had to be.

Stalling while I thought, I felt the collar, stiff and heavy in my fingers. The leather smelled rich, and the silver studs and buckle were cool. There was a ring attached to the buckle, so you could attach a leash to your dog.

There was the possibility that Uncle Mitch wanted something more, something sinister. It was a visceral intuition, one that was more a feeling between my legs than a conscious thought. My brain felt deadened and confused at what was happening to me, and I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I could not let Mom and Dad see me blowing Billy. That was the one thing I was sure of. Almost without permission from my conscious mind I lifted the collar toward my neck.

Uncle Mitch didn’t stop me. He didn’t laugh, he didn’t whip out a camera. He just watched, my somber grey uncle standing right beside me as I slipped the studded dog collar around my neck and under my hair. Swallowing hard, I fastened the little silver buckle on my throat.

“Good girl,” Uncle Mitch whispered, patting me on the top of the head like I was a good dog. I raised my chin, the weight of the collar a tactile reminder of my submission.

Before my head was all the way up, Uncle Mitch grabbed the sturdy metal ring on the collar and whipped out a studded black leash from behind his back and snapped it into place.

“What are you doing?” I screamed, trying to stand and grabbing the leash so that I could yank it away from him. Angrily I tried to throw the leash away from me but since it was fastened to my neck it didn’t go far. Uncle Mitch calmly endured my hissy fit and pushed me back down into the chair, preventing me from standing.

With his hand on my shoulder like I was some kind of pet he was trying to train Uncle Mitch picked up the end of the leash and yanked hard, causing my head to jerk and my throat to gag as he wound up the leash around his hand. I frantically tried to swallow away the knot in my throat so I could breathe again. Right away I realized how serious my trouble really was — with the collar around my neck and the leash in Uncle Mitch’s hand there was no way to resist, no way to fight back. All he had to do was yank and I would choke and gag until I did what he wanted. There was no escape.

I was so fucking mad when I realized this I tried to yank the leash again, but Uncle Mitch jerked the leash so hard that it whipped my head around and brought tears to my eyes.

Stunned at how quickly I’d been transformed from a girl looking at YouTube into a scared powerless tart on a leash I seethed in anger — at myself, at Billy Whittier and his unknown friend, at Uncle Mitch. Dammit. Daddy had been so right.

I was wiping the tears away from my cheeks and still trying to catch my breath when I realized what Uncle Mitch was doing. His hands were on his grey slacks, the end of the leash wound tightly around his palm while he calmly unzipped his pants and took out his cock.

I couldn’t believe it.

All thoughts of getting embarrassed, of having my picture taken, of standing in the corner vanished. Uncle Mitch, my Uncle Mitch, was some kind of pervert. And he wanted me to suck him. Or worse.

I tried to jerk my head away, to lean back away from him, my hands on his thighs trying to push him away. But he choked up on the leash until his hand was right next to my neck and he forced me into place, my lips only inches from his fat cock.

And it was really fat. Even though it wasn’t fully erect, it was larger around than any I’d seen before. Thicker than Billy’s. Fatter than David’s. It was even bigger around than the roommate of Trevor’s, a boy I’d given a blowjob to without even knowing his name because I liked his eyes. And his cock had been huge. Uncle Mitch’s was ruddy and solid, poking out of his soft grey slacks, swelling even bigger as I watched it searching for attention. Searching for me.

I was beyond pissed. No girl likes to have a cock shoved in her face. And never mind that it was Uncle Mitch, who had been a fixture of stability and cool reasonableness in my life ever since he’d changed my diapers when I was a baby. It was so unfair I wanted to cry.

And yet.

There was that tickle between my legs. The only cock my pussy had ever had was Billy’s, which was nowhere near this big. And we’d only actually done it twice. I squeezed my thighs together, trying to stop my pussy from screaming me! me! me! as loudly as it could, like it did every time I got a cock in my mouth. I clenched my teeth, my mind racing, frantically trying to decide if there was a way for me to resist.

Uncle Mitch took his cock in his free hand. He’d wound so much of the leash around his palm that his hand was snugged up against my throat, and he pulled my lips closer to his cock. I struggled, but his grip on the leash was too tight.

I tried to push myself away again, even harder this time, but Uncle Mitch just steadily pulled on the collar until I thought I’d choke. And he didn’t stop until I stopped pushing. My throat hurt, and I was gasping for air.

There was no other choice. I was going to have to do it.

My mind raced, trying to rationalize my decision. It couldn’t be so bad. Anything to get that damned collar off and get Uncle Mitch to leave me alone. Then I could find some way to stop him from blackmailing me, and maybe even figure out a way to get even. Besides, there was that damnable tickle between my legs, begging me to go on.

I opened my mouth.

“That’s better,” Uncle Mitch said as he took his cock in his hand and slid it into my open mouth. I could feel it stiffening, growing harder and longer. That was a new sensation for me, because all of the cocks I’d ever blown were already hard by the time I got my lips on them.

The funny thing was, once it was in my mouth I didn’t mind so much. It was familiar. I knew this. I knew what this cock wanted. It was no different than all the others — Billy’s and David’s and Trevor’s roommate’s. It just wanted to be stroked and loved and then gush hot sperm. I could do this. A few minutes and it’d be all over.

My mouth watered.

Cautiously I slurped Uncle Mitch’s fat cock, his hand resting on my head and holding me in place. I tickled the underside with my tongue and sucked just a little on the end. It swelled even larger in my mouth, and it made me feel all girly to realize that it was what I was doing that was making it bigger.

I reached up to take it in my hands, to stroke it while I licked, but Uncle Mitch smacked my head again and said, “Did I tell you to do that? Put your hands down.”

My head hurt and I wanted to yell ouch, but with my mouth full of Uncle Mitch’s cock there was no way. I put my hands on his strong thighs, the grey material of his slacks soft and warm under my fingers. He started to slowly fuck my mouth, pushing his fat cock a little deeper down my throat with every thrust. I was surprised at how long he could do it without cumming. None of the boys I’d given blowjobs to had ever lasted this long. Uncle Mitch just slowly drove himself into me, over and over, and after a while my lips and throat got really sore. I tried to pull away to give my mouth a rest but he cuffed me on the back of the head again and yanked me back into place with the leash.

I’d been turned into some kind of fuck machine, without needs of my own, without consciousness.

It didn’t matter that I wanted to reach between my legs and rub my pussy. It didn’t matter that it hurt having that cock pushed so far into my mouth. It didn’t matter that I was mad or that I didn’t want this.

It was as if the physical connection between the hard cock and my mouth rewired me, made me ready for sex no matter what my mind thought. My pussy was tingling and crying for attention just like it did when I was willingly blowing Billy or David.

With one big difference.

When I gave blowjobs to boys I was the one doing all the work. I licked, I sucked, I bobbed my head up and down and used my hands to do it right. I had this thing I did where I’d twist my hands in opposite directions around his cock while I sucked the end, and all the boys would moan. But this was totally different because I wasn’t allowed to do anything but sit in a chair with my mouth open.

It wasn’t until I started gasping for air that I really realized how excited I was, how wet my pussy had become. I tried to swallow, as if that would convince my pussy to stop reaching for an orgasm. This was a blowjob. That’s all. But the fact that I was being forced to obey, to do only what Uncle Mitch demanded was thrilling in ways I’d never experienced before.

So I was crestfallen when he let out a deep sigh of contentment and pulled his cock from my mouth.

“Why did you..” I didn’t even get the word out before I was cuffed on the head again. It’s not like it hurt. Not really. But it sure was getting annoying. And I was catching on — don’t talk, and don’t do anything you’re not told to or you’ll get cuffed. Again.

“Come along,” he said, giving a gentle tug on the leash and walking away from Dad’s computer desk.

I scrambled to get to my feet, which immediately made Uncle Mitch angry. I could tell by the look on his face. I didn’t get cuffed this time, but he seized the leash near my neck and pulled my head towards the ground. My face was almost on the carpet and I was definitely off balance when he gave the leash a tug and I fell onto my hands and knees.

“Good girl,” Uncle Mitch whispered, ruffling my hair. I got it — if you’re wearing a doggie collar you’re supposed to walk on all fours like a dog. Grrr.

I didn’t know whether to bite him or just pant like a puppy. I didn’t have the time to feel as humiliated as I wanted to, because Uncle Mitch immediately walked towards the staircase, giving the leash a little tug to tell me to follow. I scrambled on my hands and knees to keep up, which kind of hurt, even on Mom’s plush carpet.

When we got to the staircase Uncle Mitch stood aside and tugged the leash up the stairs, signaling me that I was to go up ahead of him. I hadn’t crawled up those stairs since I was three, I thought as obediently went up. I tried not to wiggle my bottom, really I did.

Uncle Mitch came up the stairs behind me, holding the other end of my leash. Right when my hands touched the second floor he tugged me to a stop and said, “Stay.”

At least, that’s what I thought he said. It was kind of hard to tell, because suddenly his voice was soft and kind of raspy, coming from right behind me, and I do mean behind. I could tell his blue eyes would be almost level with my ass, which felt infuriatingly warm. It was definitely getting hard to breathe, and I couldn’t tell if it was more from arousal or fear.

What was he going to do? I needed to be fondled almost as much as I feared more attention from my uncle. The thought that he might want to use the part that only Billy had ever touched made me weak and trembly.

I felt Uncle Mitch lift my short skirt. He pushed it up and let it rest on my back, so all that was between my uncle and my nether regions was a tiny pair of pink cotton panties.

I gulped.

Uncle Mitch didn’t hesitate, though. He pulled firmly on my leash, holding me in place with one hand while he pulled my panties down my bare legs to my knees.

“Oh, my,” he said. “I’ll bet Daddy doesn’t know about this, does he?”

My dizzy mind hadn’t quite fathomed what was happening to me at all, and so it took me a moment to realize what he was talking about.

Suicide Girls.

I had discovered them online a while ago. They have nothing to do with suicide. It’s sort of an online community of really cute sexy girls who are outside of the mainstream, the kind of girls who would have been called ‘fringe’ in high school. Their website is a sort of Myspace, where they hang out and talk to each other and show off pictures of themselves in sexy poses.

And I wanted to be a Suicide Girl so badly. I wanted to be edgy and cute and dangerous. I wanted to dress in black and have piercings all over my body, and I’d even chosen the perfect shade of bright pink to dye my hair, which I was going cut short and streak with black. I just knew that boys from all over the ‘net would drool all over me.

I had it all worked out in my head, the poses I’d make and the things I’d wear. I’d even practiced with my camera, taking almost-naked shots of myself, pictures that existed nowhere else but on the flash drive I kept hidden inside the trophy I’d gotten for high jump in the 11th grade.

I hadn’t quite gotten up the nerve to take that last step and join the Suicide Girls, but I had bought a pair of black panties that looked like a lacy butterfly nestled in my crotch. And I’d bought a pair of black clunky boots with shiny buckles that made me look tough and mean, like a good Suicide Girl should. Out of all the pictures I’d taken of myself the ones I liked best were the ones where I was naked except for my butterfly panties and my new boots. I was even wearing the boots that day, because I wanted to wear them somewhere other than my bedroom and I figured Uncle Mitch wouldn’t even notice. Silly me.

But the biggest step I had taken on the road to releasing my inner self came after my eighteenth birthday when I had amassed enough cash to go get a tattoo.

It was a gorgeous butterfly about the size of my palm, and all girly colors — pinks and soft greens and pale yellows. Of course, since there was no way my parents would ever forgive me I’d gotten it the one place that they’d never see, even when I was wearing my bikini. My butterfly tattoo was on my ass.

The ass Uncle Mitch was looking at right now.

Oh, God, I was in so much trouble. I’d successfully managed to keep Mom and Dad from seeing it. Hell, I hadn’t even let Billy see it yet.

Nope. Besides me and the tattoo guy the only person who’d seen my little sign of rebellion was Uncle Mitch. The guy holding the leash attached to the collar around my neck. The guy with the swollen dick poking out of his grey pants while he started at my bare ass.

Omigod omigod omigod. I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what I wanted worse. Him to touch me. Or him to leave me alone. I was gonna kill Billy.

“Does your father know about your little butterfly ass?” Uncle Mitch asked, tugging on the leash to remind me that he expected an answer. I felt my face flush, and I knew there was no way my voice would work. I shook my head.

“Didn’t think so,” Uncle Mitch whispered. He palmed my little butterfly ass in his hand and roughly kneaded it as if it was a ball of bread dough, which caused a delicious tugging on my pussy lips. After a second or two my pussy politely and treasonously trickled a drop of ‘come-fuck-me’ juice down the inside of my leg.

I tried not to, but a revealing shudder rippled through my body and I gasped.

Uncle Mitch let go of my ass and climbed a few steps, spreading his feet so his legs straddled mine and the business end of his thick cock was close to my dripping pussy.

I was about to get fucked.

I wanted to stop him, to scream out ‘No!’ but I knew it would do no good. I nursed my anger and told myself that if things had been different, if there hadn’t been a video, if there hadn’t been a butterfly tattoo, if there hadn’t been a spiky black leather collar then I would have fought him with all my being.

I told myself that, but I wasn’t sure if I was lying or not. I was kind of liking my leash. I liked the way it made me feel, as if I was so sexy that Uncle Mitch couldn’t help himself and had to order me around to get what he really wanted. It was like some kind of secret game that I didn’t know the rules to, a game that was somehow all wrapped up in sex. And I had never felt as sexy as I did when I was following Uncle Mitch’s orders.

Uncle Mitch pulled back on the leash, constricting my breathing and not giving me any chance to wiggle or escape while he pushed his fat cock inside me.

I couldn’t help myself, and I moaned. I sounded a little strangled, but there was no denying that it was a sound of pleasure. Fatter cocks are better, and don’t let anybody tell you any different. My pussy reluctantly stretched to accommodate him, and I thought I might just pass out from pleasure as he worked his way inside.

Uncle Mitch fucked me from behind, my cotton panties around my knees while I knelt on the staircase. I felt like I’d been skewered on a spit — his cock pushing me forward and the steady pull on the collar around my neck tugging me backwards. I’d never been screwed with such mechanical deliberation, slowly and deeply. It made me dizzy, and I had to lean forward and rest my cheek on the floor. His purposeful fucking rocked me back and forth and my cheek rubbed the scratchy carpet.

My panting grew shorter. My eyes grew wet and my fingers mindlessly clawed the carpet. I couldn’t take a breath deep enough to do me any good, and some dim part of my mind thought maybe I was going to hyperventilate.

I was gonna cum. I was gonna cum harder than I’d ever cum before. I just couldn’t quite catch the edge that would put me over. Each thrust of Uncle Mitch’s husky cock sent little skittish cums through me, each wan cum promising to be the big one, each one failing to fulfill its promise.

After a minute or two of Uncle Mitch’s pounding I was going to do it. I took a deep breath in anticipation of that last thrust that would send me to heaven.

I’ll never know if it was deliberate or not, but instead of pushing that fat cock back inside me Uncle Mitch pulled himself out with a wet little pop. I felt maddeningly empty. “No,” I heard myself whisper plaintively into the carpet. My pussy frantically twitched, begging him to come back so I could finally cum.

My unbelieving brain was still waiting for that fat cock to fuck me into heaven when Uncle Mitch crawled past me up the steps.

“Come,” he said, tugging hard on the leash for emphasis as he started to walk down the hall. I couldn’t believe it! All men are alike. Just like Billy, Uncle Mitch didn’t give a damn if I came or not. I had to scoot to keep from being choked, and it was hard to crawl with my panties around my knees.

Uncle Mitch led me down the hall to my room, and next to my bed. “Good girl,” he said, bending over to pat me on the head. Amazingly I felt myself blush, although how that happened when he was petting me and not when my pussy was dripping in his face I’m not so sure.

“Up,” he commanded, giving the leash an upward tug and patting the bed with his free hand. I didn’t want to get cuffed again, and I didn’t want Mom and Dad to see my video debut. So like a good dog I obediently climbed up on my bed.

Besides, maybe if I did like I was told I’d get a treat. Like maybe he’d finish fucking me. Oh, God! Did I just think that?

Uncle Mitch flipped me over on my back and threw his end of the leash down on the bed. He hadn’t told me to move, and so I just lay there while he pulled my panties off. He had a hard time getting them off over the buckles on my boots. Thank goodness for elastic, I guess.

Uncle Mitch stood at the foot of the bed and spread my legs so he was standing between them. Looking up at him standing between my legs I was amazed to see that he didn’t look any different. It was still my same old Uncle, gray and stolid, kind of soft and kind of hard. If he was burning with desire you couldn’t tell by the look in his cool blue eyes.

The only outward sign that anything was different between us was that thick cock, wet from pre-cum and my own pussy juice, poking out from his grey slacks, ruddy and ready to finish.

Uncle Mitch bent his legs and mounted me, pushing himself inside while my knees came up instinctively to make it easier for him. In a nanosecond my body was yanked back in time to when I’d been on the staircase getting fucked from behind and all ready to cum. I gasped, I clawed the sheets and I moaned like a like a bitch in heat.

The first time I’d fucked Billy it had been in his car up on Lookout Mountain. It was over pretty quick, after a lot of fumbling around. And the second time I had snuck into his house after dark so his parents wouldn’t know. We hadn’t turned on the lights to lessen the chances of getting caught, and that was how I’d managed to keep him from seeing my tat.

But both times Billy’d stripped off every bit of my clothes, even my jewelry.

This was so different. Uncle Mitch may have been fucking me but he was still wearing his all gray clothes. And I was flopped on my bed as if I’d just come home from school exhausted. I was still totally dressed except for my tiny scrap of pink cotton panties, and the only place we were touching was where his fat bare dick was inside my dripping wet pussy.

I wanted rip off my clothes. I even wanted to rip off Uncle Mitch’s clothes, so I could feel his chest under my fingers, so I could wrap my bare legs around his bare ass. But I didn’t want those things badly enough to stop what was happening to me, to stop being fucked.

I was gonna cum. I knew it.

It was so unlike when Billy and I had done it. He’d been done in a heartbeat and I’d gotten nowhere near an orgasm. Both times.

Uncle Mitch’s deliberate fucking was guaranteed to make me cum. It was so much more sensual than Billy’s frantic fuck, in spite of all of Billy’s empty words of love.

Drivin’ real slow gets you home pretty fast..

The line from a song from one of the bands that Mom liked flitted through my mind, too relevant to be ignored, too irrelevant to interfere. That little bit of the song repeated itself over and over in my head, the message and the pounding drum track impossibly intensifying the sensations between my legs, hurrying my orgasm along.

My hand tangled itself in my hair and pulled hard, and I wiggled around that divine cock. I was gonna do it. I was gonna cum.

Mitch pulled out of me, leaving me maddeningly empty again. But this time he immediately laid his cock in the cleft between my pussy lips and started pumping again, rubbing his shaft directly against my bare clit. It was more than enough.

I started to cum.

My body spasmed divinely around my pussy. Orgasmic waves roiled through me, starting at my center and then moving to my hips, my chest, my neck, over and over. I think I gave myself whiplash, and I may have even passed out. It was as if where we touched was the center of the universe and my body was quaking from some cosmic collision. In my dreams it was always a cock inside me that made me cum, and I just discovered that having a cock stroke my clit until I came was unimaginably better. I gratefully surrendered to the fireworks, hoping it would never end.

I was just starting to come down when I realized that I wanted to see Uncle Mitch’s cock sliding between my pussy lips and rubbing my clit. I was still trembling from after-cums but I propped myself up on my elbows and looked between my legs.

His wet pudgy cock had spread my pussy lips wide, wider than I ever made them with my fingers. He was pressing it hard against me while he slid the shaft up and down my clit. Suddenly he erupted. Uncle Mitch moaned and a sticky white rope of sperm leaped from his cock. It landed on my chin and left a slimy trail down my neck, shirt and skirt.

Before his cock could spurt again Uncle Mitch took it in his hand and shoved it back inside me, hurling it so deep into me that my ass was lifted from the bed. He grabbed my legs and clasped them around his waist while he emptied himself in me, pushing his cock as deep inside as he could while he shot his sperm even deeper.

While he was cumming inside me I had another little skittish orgasm of my own, squirming around the cock that was shooting hot sperm inside me. It took forever and didn’t last nearly long enough, and then Uncle Mitch’s cock was empty and I was full. We were frozen together with my legs wrapped around my gray uncle, and I closed my eyes and tried to write the memory to my mental hard drive so I could have it forever. Finally Uncle Mitch started breathing again, long deep breaths that proved that he hadn’t been breathing at all while he came. He lowered me back to my bed, took another deep breath, kind of like he was steadying himself, and pulled his cock from inside of me.

I wanted to just curl up with his cock in me and go to sleep, but I didn’t miss it as much as I thought I might. I guess it’s because of what he left behind inside me. I felt like somehow I’d accomplished something that I was always meant to.

Uncle Mitch put his hand on my chest and pushed himself back up so he could stand next to me. His cock was a little droopy and all wet. He was still breathing deeply while he tugged it back into his pants and smoothed his gray hair back into place. Suddenly he was my stolid gray uncle again, as if nothing had happened.

He leaned over and unbuckled the dog collar while he kissed me on the temple.

“Good girl,” he said, tousling my hair one last time. And I felt like one. If I’d had a tail I would have wagged it. It was just as well I didn’t, because I was so tired I didn’t think I had any wagging in me.

Uncle Mitch walked out of my room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

I’d always wondered about that guy thing where they always fall asleep right after they cum, like they can’t help it or something. I had a new sympathy for them, because this time it was me. I was so sleepy, so comfortable and full of sperm. I curled up into a ball and dozed.

When I drifted back to consciousness I loved how I felt. All warm and cherished, feminine and used. It was nothing at all like when I was with Billy.

Billy!

That rat. I may have discovered something better than his sorry attempts at lovemaking, but that didn’t let him off the hook, not by a long shot.

I needed some way to show him that there was no way I’d ever be with him again. Some sort of slap in the face, like he’d done to me. Suddenly I had a brain flash – since he’d used a camera to betray me, it was only fitting that I use one to enlighten him.

Dad had bought a fancy new video camera for his trip, and I hoped that he’d left his old one behind. Ignoring the lure of my warm bed and the smoking gun of the sperm trail on my clothes, I went downstairs to his study. After a wee bit of looking I found his old camera. I even knew how to use it. Mostly. It could take still shots as well as videos, and it had lots of megapixels and a zoom and everything.

After I checked the batteries I went back up to my room and got undressed. As I stood in the hot shower I made a note to myself to be sure to wash my clothes before Mom got back — the sperm stains on the front of my skirt were just as evidentiary as a porn clip on Cuntsincars.com.

I got out of the steamy shower feeling all melty and innocent, as if the shower had washed away all my wickedness. I liked feeling all clean and ready.

This time I put on my eye makeup. I had practiced a lot, and I knew what to do. Black mascara and black eyeliner on both my upper and lower lids. I had some blue eye shadow and I used my finger to blend the liner into it. My eyes looked sultry and almost Goth, but not too aggressive. I put on my black lipstick then my black nail polish.

I got my butterfly panties from their hiding place and pulled them on. My boots were still on the floor where I’d dropped them before getting in the shower, and I slipped my feet inside them and buckled them up. Then I blew my hair dry, and brushed it ’til it shone. I remembered Uncle Mitch mussing it and calling me a good girl and a delightful memory shiver ran down my bare spine.

The dog collar and leash still lay on my bed where they’d fallen. I wasn’t sure that I’d ever really feel sexy again without them. I tossed my hair back and fastened the collar around my neck.

I looked in my mirror. I was naked except for my black accessories, and I could not believe how fucking sexy I was! Billy was going to shit when he found out he’d never have me again. The black boots, makeup, panties and dog collar made my skin look whiter than it really was, and the sole splash of color, the blue eye shadow, accented my junior goth look just like I’d hoped it would. I felt so deliciously wanton and I had to fondle myself, and I pushed aside my panties so I could rub my clit a little while I watched in the mirror.

Before I got too carried away I forced myself to stop, licking my finger clean so I wouldn’t get girl goo on Dad’s camera. I set it to take still pictures and put it on my desk, pointing at my bed. I set the timer and ran to the bed and arranged myself. I took five or six shots and downloaded them to my computer so I could see how they came out.

One picture jumped out at me, and I knew it was absolutely perfect to use as the centerpiece of my Suicide Girls page. I’d posed sort of like Princess Leia in that Star Wars movie where she was half naked and laying on her side, with Jabba the Hut holding the leash that led to the collar around her neck. Only I was wearing even less than she was, and with the black makeup and my white skin I looked way hotter than she ever did. Remembering what Uncle Mitch had done to me, I had tousled my hair just a little. The collar and leash lent a powerful aura of sexy submission to the picture, and I just knew that any boy who saw it would fall in love with me. Hell, I looked so different that I almost fell in love with myself. The really amazing thing was that you couldn’t even tell that I’d been getting the fucking of my life only a half hour before. Except maybe around my eyes, which looked like they’d just been shown the keys to the universe. Maybe that’s what made the shot so perfect.

I realized that I was kind of stalling. The pictures were a bonus and had nothing to do with the vengeance I was planning to wreak on Billy Whittier.

I gathered my courage, my breath and the camera and headed towards Uncle Mitch’s room. I cannot tell you how sexy I felt walking almost naked down the hall, with the camera in one hand and the end of my leash in the other. Usually when my pussy was this wet I was either laying in bed playing or I still had my panties on, like when Billie and I were fooling around. Walking while I was this wet with no panties on to sop up the moisture made me even slicker, and I couldn’t believe how good it felt when my engorged pussy lips slid against each other.

I positioned myself carefully in front of Uncle Mitch’s door. I wasn’t quite sure what his reaction was going to be, and I wanted to push every button I knew he had so he’d do what I wanted. Really, one little movie to send to Billy wasn’t all that much to ask, was it?

I sat on the floor like a good doggie waiting for her master, with my bare ass on my black boots. I put the camera on the floor in front of me, between my front paws. I hoped this was going to work.

I knocked on the door and said, “Uncle Mitch?”

I put the end of the leash in my mouth and waited.

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