Jen Ch. 01byStoryTeller07©
"You fit to be seen DM?" Morris asked with the door open a crack. He walked in on hearing a grunt of consent. Jen barely lifted her head to nod at him. "Know what its like, been there a few times, so I won't shout at you," he told her.
Jen sat on the edge of the bed, only making it that far, while nursing a sore head in both hands. She wore a pair of slept-in panties and a t-shirt, smelling like a next morning bar room. "Unlike you not to take advantage and you might as well, my parents will. I'll be grounded for the next six months. Mother won't let me out of her sight." Jen murmured.
Morris looked at the long bare legs on show knowing the attractive young woman was distracting him from the plan. "You're over twenty-one so you can do what you like. Yea, OK. I know what the tough bird's like. You're feeling sorry for yourself but how about thinking of others for a change," Morris pointed out.
"I'm sorry, you know I am, Uncle Morris," she sniffled, too much in pain to argue with him. "I remember you dragging me out of the car and seeing those damaged cars, not much else. I feel terrible. Do my parents have to know? They'll be so upset. I know I should be punished, it's just, letting them down, it feels so bad," she sighed.
"You're lucky it's happened away from home. I might take a chance and keep quiet about it but the damage has to be paid for. You crashed into three cars, not just scratches either. The insurance isn't going to cover it unless I turn you over to the police saying you stole the vehicle," he warned her.
"Oh! No! Please Uncle don't do that," she whined. It was a change for them to have a conversation without growling at each other. He used to say she was named Jen because it was cheaper then Jennifer, less letters used. Her mother was always on about budgeting. He called her delicious but malicious, 'DM' for short. She called him Uncle because it annoyed him; he said it made him feel old.
Uncle Morris wasn't liked in the family and the feeling was mutual. Her mother, Rose, wouldn't let him in the house, referring to him as 'that reprobate'. He in turn took every opportunity to put them down. Although her father, Jonathan, made money investing wisely Uncle Morris had made money illicitly, but how, no one knew.
"Just to keep you out of trouble with the police someone is going to have to pay for the damage, and that's your father," Morris told her firmly.
"Not the police please! They don't have to know, surely? I'd pay if I could, every penny of it. I don't suppose you could loan me the money?" she asked. The look of pain in her face was supposed to win him over but she knew he was a hard man, not easily swayed.
He looked at her sitting in panties and t-shirt looking like a sexy woman after a hard lascivious night. Long curly hair dropping over both shoulders framed a pretty face, only this morning it was stuck on one side after sleeping on it. Despite smelling like a stale beer she was still attractive. A quick shower would have her back to looking like a long legged, desirable young woman.
"I'll do anything to save them from the embarrassment of it all," she told him. He was looking at her in that wolfish way again but she dare not complain; clinging onto the hope he would help her out of the hole she had crashed into. He didn't have much of a problem about hiding the truth or lies, from her parents or anyone else, so there was a chance.
He looked as though he was being torn between lying to her parents, almost a hobby, and goading them with the truth. Still undecided he looked at Jan, fixing her eyes with a hard stare.
"How would you pay?" he asked. "You have to pay somehow, and you can't be let off without being punished," he told her. "You can't be let off so easily, you won't learn from the mistake," he told her harshly. "You're a spoilt brat, made so by doting parents. You're mommy and daddies little perfect angel," he told her, with a sarcasm laden voice.
"Well you're a drunken reprobate, at least I don't make trouble wherever I go, chatting up strange women," she began to holler but winced and grabbed her head in a tight grip.
"It might be fun if you did!" he chuckled. "Oh! You mean that redhead last night? The husband should keep a tighter leash on that one. You don't know how to have fun, like the rest of that retarded family of yours. My brother knew how before the 'she wolf' got her fangs into him," Morris growled back at her.
Jen wasn't biting, just biting her lip, lacking the stamina to retaliate. "This is getting us nowhere, dragging up history," he told her firmly. His voice was low and the expression on his face showed indecision on a course of action.
She could see how much he wanted to use this situation to the family's detriment. She naturally thought to put herself at his mercy so that he would take it out on her rather than tell mom.
The headache didn't help but she was in a difficult position so had to gain his help to gain time. As much as it rankled she would have to plead with the dreadful arrogant man. At least he wasn't gloating; which should have warned her there was something more to this misadventure than she realised.
"Please Uncle Morris, I'll be good, I really will try to fit in and won't argue, honestly. I'll help out here with the boys and what ever you want me to do, I'll just do it. You're right I should be punished for what I did," she said, with an earnest expression.
From sitting on the edge of the bed she almost slipped to the floor, as though she were about to beg on hands and knees. She was oblivious of the delightful exhibition of her body Uncle Morris was getting. It was the reason he called her DM. The sight of bare thighs and the view down the loose t-shirt would have been delightfully enthralling, but there was no time for that, he had things to do.
The only reason he had let the stuck up bitch tag along was because she was such a delightful eye-full. She had a beautiful figure but not even his sons tried it on with the dragon, as Mat called her. She tried to fit in but her mothers influence prevented the young woman from relaxing. Like her father, his brother, she was firmly kept in place by the harridan.
"You should have gone to university or at least taken a job. You would have learnt something about the real world instead of bending to your mother's fierce regime. Instead you're an impractical prissy girl unable to stand up to her. You need to learn to stand on your own two feet and become a woman," he lectured. Seeing she wasn't arguing he let it go with a shrug of his shoulders.
He looked at her with a frown dominating his face. "I'm trying to figure how this is going to work out. As far as I can see it's me handing over fistfuls of cash and you're getting away with helping out every once in awhile at away games, or once a week if mom lets you out for home games too. Doesn't sound as though you're going to learn much responsibility to me young lady," he told her, his voice sounding sceptical.
If mother found out about the drunken behaviour she would be banned from the basketball games Uncle Morris coached. Her one chance to escape for a little while, from the humdrum daily existence at home, would be snatched away. At least supporting her cousins playing on the team got her out of the house a couple of times a week.
She felt stifled at home and treasured the moments away with his rowdy boys. They were younger and mostly ignored her. They worked hard and played hard too. Jen envied their effortless enjoyment of life; they were free to explore ideas and the world around them.
At home she helped mother look after father who was ill. This was the first away game and they had stayed at a motel; a whole night away from that dismal house.
"At home, I could help out at home, your house. Clean and tidy, maybe cook for you?" she said, with eyes wide trying desperately to appeal to a better nature he must have stored away somewhere. His wife had died a year ago and the place needed a good thorough clean. She wouldn't step foot in the place and told him so before that first home game.
He looked at her with a stern expression. Nostrils flared and cheeks reddened with the exertion of keeping a quick temper under control. "You have to pay back something, just enough to hurt a little. Talking about hurting a little, you need to be punished too. Said so yourself," he nodded thoughtfully, as though accepting his own suggestion.
"Working everyday at my house will remind you of the debt," he told her, with a wagging finger.
"Yes Uncle Morris, what ever you say," she smiled sweetly up at him from the edge of the bed. So he did have a considerate side to him, unless he was just teasing her. No, he would keep a promise not to tell and besides he could hold it over her until she paid back the money.
"Here's the deal. You have to do as you're told. You have to pay a token amount each week from your allowance. Do you agree?" he asked.
"Yes Uncle Morris, I agree," she stated clearly and sat up straight, as though it were more sincerely meant like that.
He looked at her breasts and nipples being thrust out. They were loose in the t-shirt yet came to attention looking firm and ripe when she sat up. "The punishment will be," he started to say then shrugged his shoulders at a loss for an idea.
"You have any suggestions? Can't think of anything you do that can be stopped," he said, and paused. "It'll have to be the old fashioned way I guess. You too old to be put over my knee?" he asked. Again the hand stroked his chin while he looked quizzical, unsure if this was right.
About to explode at the idea she instead just about restrained the outburst. He was testing her. There was no way a twenty-two year old woman would accept such a demeaning position and from him of all people! He was looking for an excuse to wriggle out of the offer so as to wickedly gloat when telling mother.
Well she could play games too! "Yes Uncle, I mean, no Uncle, you must punish me for what I've done. What ever you think is fitting," she blurted out. This is not what she had in mind but at least it would take care of the guilt she felt, or was that just a hangover?
What she had accepted wasn't reasonable but she was sure he wouldn't carry it out.
To buy some time anything could be agreed to. Once he was committed to keeping it secret from her parents she could get the money from father with some excuse and that would be an end to it.
Even if she had to tidy up his house for a few days it would be better than mother finding out. He was fickle enough to become bored and let her out of the agreement before long anyway.
Her parents had said no one is all bad so why hadn't they found anything nice to say about him? As much as she disliked Uncle Morris she would have missed being around his two wayward sons. They weren't bad just playful and full of energy like most eighteen year olds. She had to chastise them once for playfully grabbing hold of her but after a stern lecture they hadn't been a bother since.
"So! What's next then? Lets see if you meant what you said, shall we? You agreed to do as you are told," he said slowly. "Also agreed to be punished," he added.
The look he gave was definitely a challenge. OK! She could either crash out and say it was unfair or stand up to the challenge. Her mother would stand up and take the medicine however distasteful it was. It was one of her sayings so of course she would do exactly that.
Jen stood up and looked straight ahead into his strong chin. He had used a blunt razor this morning. This expert knowledge was gained from shaving her father each morning over the last few days. Bringing her shoulders back she took a deep breath. "I'm ready, sir," she stated, like a soldier on parade.
He sat down on the bed and looked up at her expectantly. The nonchalant look was held for a moment, in danger of failing, holding just long enough for when she looked down at him. He patted his lap.
'Shit!' she thought but said, "Dang it! Uncle! You can't expect me to accept, err, it will hurt," she complained.
"You agreed to be punished and promised to do as you were told. Already you are giving in so what else will you default on," he said, with a serious look, while shaking his head heavily as though in sorrow.
She wasn't fooled by the pious look and tone of voice. He meant to push her to the limit. "I agreed but didn't think you would take advantage of me Uncle Morris," she complained, with a woeful sound of voice. She too could play along with this game for there was no way she wanted to lose and have him blab to her mother.
"You and your family take advantage of me all the time. Every chance you get my character is impugned. Well, you don't seem to be able to honour an agreement so there's only one thing for it," he said, struggling to get up from the soft springy bed.
"OK!" she said. It was a sudden impulse, otherwise, given a moment to think she would have shied away. Before he changed his mind or she did Jen dropped into his lap. She hoped it hurt him.
It occurred to her just then how little she was wearing. So used to roaming around at home in panties and t-shirt it hadn't seemed to matter. She lay limp across uncle's lap bemused over how this had happened. The frightfulness of it kept the panic in check. It was as though she had been stunned, inert.
Morris looked down at the innocent young woman stretched out over his lap. It was just like Jen to submit to such an ordeal for the sake of honour. He had intended her to renege on the deal after having a little fun teasing her. More than anything he wanted to shatter the brittle Rose that turned his brother against him. Now he was terminally ill it was time to make peace, to become close brothers once more.
The damn woman was determined to keep up the family feud and have Jonathan die without him at his side. Slap! The sound shook him as much as it quivered the soft cheeks of Jan's bottom. He hadn't meant to spank her, just put her in this demeaning position. He almost pushed her off his lap. Instead the hand came down for another slap of its own volition.
He hadn't meant it. He had thought she needed it but who was he to chastise their daughter. They had ruined her; they should teach her the world wasn't fair and dandy, that she would have to be aware and beware.
This time he meant the stinging slap. Did three slaps make a spanking? Her bottom was red, from what he could see of it through the white cotton panties. "You can get up," he said, with difficulty. He had seen a film and remembered what she should say, but his voice croaked so he cleared his throat. A deep breath and maybe he could continue. "What do you say?" he asked.
Looking more stunned than he did, she stood with head hung low. "You are supposed to thank me," he whispered, as though offering a queue.
"Thank you?" she asked. "You shouldn't have done that! That's going too far. I'm a grown woman not a naughty child," she exclaimed, sounding more like a spoilt brat than the woman she was.
"So you won't honour the agreement! I'll have to either report the incident to the police or make your parents to pay for the damage," he threatened.
She was in shock, trying to fit what happened into a normal world, shaking her head trying to get her head straight. "Uncle you shouldn't have spanked me like a silly young girl, I'm a fully grown woman. I'm an adult and should be treated with respect," she said, with a voice teetering toward horror.
"You didn't act like a mature and responsible adult last night," he pointed out. "Thank me for punishing you, for teaching you the error of your ways," he said, not caring if that was the right words or not, just needing her to make it safe. He didn't want to be charged with assault. The harridan would go to such lengths to get at him even if it hurt her own daughter.
Eventually she gave in. "Do you promise not to tell anyone?" She considered his abrupt 'yes' answer enough as it seemed that was all he would give.
With a shaky voice she tried to answer. "Thank you Uncle Morris for spanking me, eh, for teaching me to behave," she adlibbed, feeling foolish but somehow the words seemed logical. He hadn't groped her. He had actually spanked her. Not understanding this might turn someone on she believed he had sincerely tried to teach her a lesson, as promised. She had agreed to it too, so what could she say? Could she complain?
The bemusement and embarrassment showed clearly upon her face as she tried to understand what happened. He sometimes patted her bottom when he thought no one was looking and she ignored it, or told him he was an awful old pervert when no one was within hearing distance. That always seemed to put him in his place. This was different, much different.
"Damn, Uncle, you shouldn't have, err, done that. I'm going for a shower," she told him. Once there Jan looked into the mirror over her back wondering what he had seen of her body. When she left the room he hadn't even bothered to look at her. A sliver of cheeks were escaping from around the panties but nothing too much. When she bent forward a sudden inward breath of surprise sounded loud in the small bathroom.
The crotch of the panties was wet. Had he seen this? She tugged them off in anger, cross with her body, feeling confused over why this had happened. It was awful peeling them from her crotch, feeling them wet and sticky. Was that why he looked away when she escaped to the bathroom? She had let herself down by shamefully showing off her panties and getting wet over it. Surely not, no, not getting excited because he had seen between her legs while she was spread over his lap, that couldn't be it!
Wrapping a thin motel towel around a clean body she peeped into the room. He was gone. She marched in to grab some clothes, accompanied by a sigh of relief. There was also a slight sound of remorse that he wasn't waiting for her. It felt like any other empty room only he seemed missing from it.
Tucked away tidily, in a corner of her mind out of sight, was a thought. Something about having been naughty, her wet panties, and would she be punished again?
Morris hurried out of the motel room thinking it had all gone too far. The intended teasing of his niece ended up with a lewd tease for him. He had to leave quickly before she noticed the erection threatening to reveal his thoughts.
"You're late Morris!" Joe accused him.
"Sorry friend, unforeseen circumstances," he explained.
"You owe me money," the guy stated plainly. A look of suspicion shrouded his face from a perpetual misgiving that life was about to deal him a blow; this time meaning he was about to receive less money that he bargained for.
"Here, it's all there," Morris said, while handing over a brown envelope. It was brown because Morris was a traditionalist not just because he had a box of two thousand to get rid of. He knew the weasel looking guy would open it and slowly count the notes. It looked as though he were looking for counterfeit ones.
Joe had lined up the old cars in the parking lot while they were at the game. Morris added vodka to Jen's water and stood back, as they say, waiting for an accident to happen. They won the game so he let the boys out for a rowdy evening and Jen got caught up in it.
He guided her back to the motel and slid her into the driving seat where she passed out. The minivan was already scratched, which gave him the idea. He revived her making sure they tottered past the old vehicles looking sad and dented. In the poor light they didn't look too bad, but he knew they were clunkers and would be towed away before morning.
"You said something went wrong, so thought you'd short change me!" he stated.
"No. Not your fault, mine. Everything went fine as far as you're concerned. Must be slipping when it comes to playing practical jokes, that's all," he explained, without explaining anything at all. Besides, Joe saw only the money, tuning out everything else.