Aunty's Naughty Niece Ch. 03

Lucy raised herself and they smooched for a while, then my niece picked up the rubber flogger and stepped from the bed.

"Time to remove this nasty little clamp, eh aunty?" she said, unclipping the metal's pincer-like grip from my pain-flooded clitoris.

"Thank-you, darling," I said, in a hushed tone, fully aware of two things – the first was the pain as my blood flow resumed in my clit, the other that Lucy was soon going to start flogging my minge.

To my surprise, Lucy then climbed back on the bed and stood about two feet from the foot of the bed. "Shuffle forward, aunty," she called, "I want you within range of this lovely flogger."

I obeyed her instructions, panting a bit as my movements caused the chains holding the battery cylinders to sway, adding to the punishment of my nipples.

When she was satisfied that I was close enough, Lucy called: "Halt, aunty. Right, BeeBee, it's time for my orgasm. Get to work on my minge, and there's no rush, take it nice and slow."

Lucy then grinned at me, as Brenda knelt in front of her lovely snatch and started her oral adoration. "Know why there's no rush, Aunty Lindy?" my niece asked.

"No darling," I said, fully aware that I wasn't going to like the answer.

"That's because I'm going to start whipping your pussy," she said, then paused. "And I'm not going to stop until I've had my orgasm!"

And with that her arm was pulled back, then the many-thonged rubber whip struck me between the thighs with a strong-sounding "Splatttt". The impact drew a sharp intake of breath from me, and while the stroke was stinging, it was not as strong as I had feared.

"Splatttt" went the flogger again, and again I was shocked by its impact, also because I received a nipple jolt at exactly the same moment from the clamp on my left nipple.

Brenda reached up with her hands for better purchase and soon her tongue was obviously flying back and forth across Lucy's pussy because the 18-year-old start to hump and heave her minge firmly down onto the older woman's panting mouth.

I must have received about 10 or 15 blows from the rubber flogger, when Lucy threw it to the floor, grabbed Brenda by her hair and yelled: "Flat tongue my clit, BeeBee, flat tongue it, you lovely bitch!"

And as I stood watching, occasionally being jolted by the little vibrations from my nipples clamps, Lucy came on Brenda's mouth in a torrent of imprecations, most of which included the "f" word and all of which complimented the sex shop woman on her oral prowess.

Finally, Lucy, still standing above her cunnilinguist, calmed down and she stepped from the bed, put her high heels back on, then turned to face Brenda.

"Time for Aunty L's fun, I think, eh BeeBee?" she asked, and the 38-year-old gave me a cheeky grin and climbed from the bed to kneel before my punished pussy.

"Give her an orgasm to remember, BeeBee," commanded Lucy, who then removed the tit clamp from my right nipple and lowered her mouth to my nubbin.

As Brenda's mouth worked on my sex juice-seeping pussy, Lucy's mouth first of all drew little splinters of agony into my nipple, as the blood flow resumed, but soon it was throbbing with lust as the sex shop woman sucked and licked all the pain from my sex and began to replace it with tender, then thrusting loving.

As I felt my climax nearing, Lucy walked around to my other side and removed the last clamp. Again her mouth worked on the painful little protrusion, then I felt a flood of ecstasy coursing through my nipples, one being sucked by Lucy, the other stroked, and that flood darted down my belly to my gut, then lower to my pussy, where Brenda's mouth was driving me faster and faster to an erotic explosion.

Finally, I could hold out no longer and a torrent of twinges which flooded through my sex was followed by a cataract of excitement as the Big O engulfed me and I screamed out in delight at the most massive, mind-numbing climax I had ever experienced.

Later, as we all relaxed on the bed, sipping flutes of Laurent Perrier champagne – which I had paid for, naturally - Lucy leaned across my body, kissed my still tender nipples, then placed a hand on my thigh.

"There, Aunty L," she smiled. "Still complaining about the price of those prezzies, are we?"

I had to admit she had me there. I kissed her on the mouth, savouring the tang of pussy juice intermingled with the fine grape of the Champagne region.

"After an orgasm like that, I'm going to remember the quality long after I've forgotten the price," I told her.

Epilogue:

That was all some months ago. Lucy has gone back home and apparently all has been forgiven by her mother, my sister Libby. Lucy is now working privately and local female submissives – or possibly not so local – are "beating" a path to her door, apparently, for their beatings.

Brenda – I hate the diminutive "BeeBee" – and I are now an item, as it were. I realise that while I thought I loved Patrice, my ex who migrated to Australia, it was really an affair doomed to failure. Neither of us was strong enough to be the leading partner. Which is certainly not the case with Brenda!

We often go to parties at mutual friends and we make quite a pair. I'm introduced as the lady who sells a wonderful range of "straight" books at Lindy's Library, while Brenda sells a wonderful range of "kinky" books at her shop. It's amazing how people are sofascinated by people who run sex shops.

Brenda comes round to my place every afternoon she gets off early – that's once a week – and every Friday I pack my spreader bar, yoke, assorted clamps and rubber flogger into the boot of the car and drive to her lovely apartment on the other side of town for the week-end.

For the drive, I have to wear the shiny black PVC bikini, even in the middle of winter, which makes me sweat like a pig and isso uncomfortable. I guess that's why I love it so!

At Brenda's place, I have a lovely little bowl –well, it's not so little, actually. It's surprising how large a bowl is needed to contain Brenda's urine! It's made of pink porcelain, and on opposite sides, in dark blue lettering which stands out in nice contrast to the pink porcelain, is the word "Bitchslut".

So things have all worked out for the best, thanks to my dear niece, Lucy, who still visits from time to time, although now, of course, it's Brenda who is firmly in charge.

Now I like to think of myself as "Lucky, Liberated Lindy: Bondage Brenda's Bitchslut." Oops, there goes that family fondness for alliteration again!

THE END