Mom, Aunt Clara & My Wandering Mind Pt. 10

Author's Note: If you're new to this series, please take note of this story's category and tags, in case the subject matter might not be to your liking. Please note that this is part of a series that involves Incest and Taboo. Also, please start with Part 1 of the series otherwise, some of this won't make much sense.

This is a work of fiction. The plot is fictional. The characters are fictional. In other words, it's not real life. Any resemblance to person(s) living or dead is purely coincidental. All fictional characters in this fictional story involved in fictional sexual activities are 18+ in their completely fictional lives. If you think you recognize a real-life someone in this story, you lead a more colorful life than the author. :-)

Lastly, and most importantly, I hope you enjoy the story!

-BizMe

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Mom, Aunt Clara & My Wandering Mind: Part 10

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My therapy to address my absentmindedness and other issues was in full swing and I'd heard a rumor it might be coming to an end sometime soon since I'd been progressing so well.

Part of the 'alternative therapy' as prescribed by my psychotherapist aunt was forced nudity while at home, where my stepmom and Aunt Clara were responsible for caring for me.

So, it wasn't any surprise when Aunt Clara approved my forced nudity at Miss Swenson's, too, since I spent so much time there.

"After all, you're one of his caregivers for his therapy, aren't you?" Aunt Clara said dismissively as if it was a silly question to even ask. "Now that Nadia is in the loop, I see no reason at all that he should be allowed to wear clothing at your home. She's already seen him naked, hasn't she? So what is the harm?"

Why Miss Swenson insisted I be there when she asked the question, I wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps it was so I'd hear it directly from Aunt Clara and not have to take her word for it when she told me to strip the next time I came over to visit her daughter and my first love, Nadia.

"Is there anything else?" Aunt Clara asked Miss Swenson as we all stood in my kitchen, waiting for our morning coffee to finish brewing.

"There is one more thing," Miss Swenson started. "Nadia demands to be Andy's first."

"Andrew's first?" Aunt Clara repeated. "His first what, exactly?"

"She wants Andy to take her virginity and for her to have his," Miss Swenson said plainly and without hesitation, I looked away in embarrassment.

"Is that what you want, Andrew?" Aunt Clara quickly asked, forcing me to engage in the conversation just when I tried to quietly disappear.

"Yes, Aunt Clara. That's what I've always wanted," I said quietly as if anyone who's ever known me didn't already know I'd been in love with Nadia Swenson since before I'd even learned what love was.

"Hmm," Aunt Clara smiled smugly. "Of course, it is. I already knew that," she bragged, which left me wondering why she'd asked in the first place. Sometimes, she intentionally did things just to make me a little uncomfortable. Something to do with 'principles of immersion therapy' and confronting things I'm afraid of.

"Well, that can certainly be arranged," Aunt Clara approved.

Arranged? What's there to 'arrange'? I wondered to myself. Once Nadia's birth control kicks in, we'll just find us some quiet time alone somewhere and do what comes natural. There's nothing to 'arrange,' Aunt Clara. God, you don't have to be involved in EVERYTHING!

"I'll let Mary know, too, just in case she had other plans." Aunt Clara said further.

Hold up. Other plans? I secretly wondered if perhaps my stepmom was wanting to take my virginity herself. What else could Aunt Clara have meant about Mom maybe having 'other plans'?

"Is there anything else?" Aunt Clara asked again. "From either of you?"

She normally didn't even acknowledge my presence when discussing my therapy, despite my always being naked around her. After all, I was the 'subject' and it was the purview of the professional (herself) and approved caregivers (my stepmom and my hopefully future mother-in-law, Miss Swenson) to determine my therapy, not me. I rarely had a voice in those conversations, much less any say in decisions.

"I wanted to ask about old lady Perkins," I said nervously, "and the job she wants me to do."

"First of all, Andrew," Aunt Clara chided, "you mustn't call her 'old lady Perkins' anymore. It's Lady Perkins or Miss Perkins, do you understand? She's not all that old and your use of the word is very disrespectful."

"Yes, ma'am," I agreed.

"Now about the work she wants you to do, what do you want to know?

"Well... what is it?" I asked, still in almost complete darkness as to what she had in store for me.

"Ah, so Kari hasn't told you, yet?" Aunt Clara questioned.

"I thought it best he hears it from you or his mother since I probably won't be there, anyway." Miss Swenson defended having not clued me in yet.

"Very well. No trouble at all," Aunt Clara said to Miss Swenson before turning her attention to me. "She needs work done in her backyard, first of all. A lot of manual labor. Shrubs to be trimmed, grass to be mowed, and she wants her patio and pool area cleaned up so she can start having her Bridge Club ladies meet there instead of her front porch."

"Will I," I started to ask, then stopped, suddenly questioning my apprehensions. Am I wrong about Miss Perkins? Maybe she isn't trying to get a pass on me again? Maybe it really is just... a job?

"Will you what, Andrew?" Aunt Clara asked.

"Will I have to be... naked?" I asked. "While I'm working?"

"Now, why would you ask that?" Aunt Clara seemed not only surprised but a little bit irked. "Do you want to be naked in front of Miss Perkins? Do you want to be naked outside?"

"N-No! I d-don't want to be naked! N-neither of those things!" I stammered.

"Hmm, I'm not so sure I believe you, Andrew, but I suppose I'll take your word for it... for now," Aunt Clara smirked as if she'd caught me trying to pull a fast one or something. "You can be naked if you wish, especially since she's already seen you in your birthday suit anyway. But I'll leave that between you and Miss Perkins to iron out."

"Thank you," I muttered, knowing full well there'd be nothing to 'work out' between us. If I had a say in it, I'd never be naked with old lady Perkins ever again.

"As to her Bridge Club, she's also asked that you serve the ladies and provide some entertainment at their next gathering," Aunt Clara proceeded after I thought there was nothing more, "to celebrate all the work you'll have done and the start of the summer."

There it is, I immediately thought. There's her angle. Or part of it, anyway. What are you up to, old lady Perkins? "Ent-entertainment?" I stuttered.

"Stop with your stammering, Andrew," Aunt Clara commanded. "You've been doing so well at keeping yourself in check. Why do you suddenly regress as soon as we speak of Miss Perkins?"

"I... she..." I spluttered.

"Tell me, Andrew," Aunt Clara repeated. "Why do you get so worked up at the possibility of Miss Perkins seeing you naked Or is it that you don't want her to spank you again?"

I can't tell her I didn't trust her or that I think old lady Perkins is devious and has some ulterior motives when it comes to me. That she looked at me with predator's eyes. That she played Aunt Clara like a fiddle to get what she wanted. She'll never believe me anyway. What do I dare say that Aunt Clara won't get pissed about or somehow twist and use against me?

"Wh-what do you m-mean by ent-entertainment, Aunt Clara?" I asked, avoiding her question entirely.

Aunt Clara smirked, immediately recognizing my avoidance tactic. "Entertainment," Aunt Clara said flatly. "You will greet the ladies when they arrive and you will serve them throughout the evening. They're having a catered meal delivered and you will serve it. Well... you and Patrick."

"P-Patrick?" I asked

"Yes, P-P-Patrick," she said mockingly, "my son, P-P-Patrick? Your cousin, P-P-Patrick?"

It was becoming increasingly clear I was wearing her patience thin.

"You're on your own to get everything ready, but he's agreed to help with the evening entertainment after he gets off work."

"Will I be..." I hesitated, worried I might be testing her composure. "Will we be..."

"Will you be what?" Aunt Clara snarled, clearly having her fill of my hesitations and questions.

"Will we be... naked... for that?" I asked.

"I swear, Andrew! What is your preoccupation with being naked in front of Miss Perkins?" she interrogated. "Do you want to be naked? Fine! You'll be naked!"

"No!" I objected vehemently, "I don't want to be naked! I don't want her to see me and I don't want her to touch me!" I blared loudly, promptly shrinking back after my outburst was done.

"Well, she's already done both and you sure didn't seem to mind it then," she rebutted without hesitation. "As I recall, her dirty talk really got you going and you shot quite a load. I think perhaps you're protesting too much and not-so-secretly want her to do it again. So, if you want to be naked, just say so. I'm certain she wouldn't mind. We'll just have to adjust the entertainment plan a bit."

"Entertainment p-plan?" I had to ask, despite the feeling I was dancing in a minefield.

"Ugh," Aunt Clara rolled her eyes, her tolerance now thinner than the thread of a spider's web and a fraction as strong. "Yes, we do plan things, Andrew. Your part is easy. You'll just perform a little fashion show while serving the guests."

"Those outfits I bought you the other day," Miss Swenson interjected, calmly, perhaps sensing Aunt Clara reaching her threshold with me. "I do wish I could be there for that but I'm working. Or else, I'd be there, too, to cheer you on." She smiled sweetly.

"And maybe some accessories," Aunt Clara added with a wicked smirk after Miss Swenson's subtle interruption seemed to ease the tension in the air. "And my Patrick will provide the grand finale."

"Wh-what's the... the finale?" I asked.

"Now you're just being nosy and annoying," Aunt Clara snipped. "Do you want to be naked or not? I can't take any more of this beating around the bush. And I'll remind you, your caregivers have all seen and touched you countless times now, as has Miss Perkins. Not to mention, Nadia. What modesty do you have left that you're trying to preserve, Andrew?"

Shit! "Is Nadia going to be there?!" I asked in alarm.

"Probably not," Miss Swenson answered quickly, cutting in before Aunt Clara could lay into me. "She didn't want to come if I didn't go, too, since she doesn't know Miss Perkins or her friends all that well."

"Oh..." I mumbled, my unfocusing eyes falling to some indeterminate spot in front of me, my mind swimming in a swirling vortex of thoughts.

"So, what exactly is your concern with Miss Perkins seeing you naked or even touching you again for that matter?" Aunt Clara pressed mercilessly and part of me wished I'd never broached the topic in the first place.

"W-what if she takes pictures? Or records video or something?" I asked though that wasn't my primary concern at all; it was just something I thought of off the top of my head. I desperately wanted to avoid trying to tell her I thought she'd been played by the old woman.

"Ah, so being naked isn't the problem, then? You're just worried about your privacy? You think pictures or videos might end up on the Internet? Is that the heart of all this?" Aunt Clara read a whole lot more into my question than I'd ever intended, but she wasn't entirely wrong either. "Let me ask you this, Andrew. Has anyone ever taken pictures of you while you've been naked in our presence? Have we ever recorded video of you being masturbated or cumming or even just walking around naked?"

"Miss Swenson did," I blurted and at once I'd felt like I'd just shoved her in front of a speeding bus.

"Oh, Andy," Miss Swenson gasped, instantly moving her hand over her mouth in doleful surprise. "I thought we talked about that already. None of my pictures showed your face, and I offered you the chance to delete them, remember? You still can, if you really want to. Please don't tell me..." Her voice sounded crestfallen and dejected as if I'd somehow let her down by harboring ill feelings toward her.

"I... no, ma'am. I... I shouldn't have said that... I... I don't mind that you have them, Miss Swenson. I trust you," I muttered, wishing I hadn't brought up the pictures she'd taken.

"Well, I don't know what you even brought that up, then, Andrew. That wasn't very nice." Aunt Clara sounded miffed and I realized I'd only done that out of defense. "So," Aunt Clara took control of the conversation again. "If there are no cameras allowed and all phones are confiscated, you'll have no other concerns?"

Fuck! How'd this get out of hand like this? I don't want to be naked in front of old lady Perkins and her friends. That's all! Period! But how do I say that without having to explain why? Especially knowing all I have is a feeling that Miss Perkins is up to something and she makes me feel like a piece of meat. Aunt Clara will just interrogate me until I say something I don't even mean!

"One," Aunt Clara counted.

I looked up at her still unsure how I'd gotten myself into this mess much less how to respond.

"Do you have other concerns?" she asked again, "about being naked or anything else?"

"I..." Again I racked my brain trying to think of something I could say besides simply saying 'no.' And why the hell did she say 'anything else' that way?

"Two," Aunt Clara counted again.

"W-what? Why?" I questioned. "W-why are you counting?"

"Because you're ignoring my question and refusing to answer me," she defended staunchly. "And your stammering is getting on my nerves."

"I..." I stammered again.

"Three."

"I... I guess not," I murmured feeling nothing short of defeated.

"Good! It's settled then. Two for the price of one. Miss Perkins will be delighted."

Fuck, I'm so stupid! I cursed at myself. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

* * *

"Hey, Andy! What's up man?!" my cousin Patrick's voice boomed through my phone pressed to my ear. "So, you're gonna do the finale with me? That's cool, man!"

"Shit, Patrick! I never meant for that to happen! What the hell am I going to do?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, sounding perplexed. "Mom said you wanted to and, to be honest, it'll be a lot less intimidating if I'm not the only one."

"Fuck, Patrick, I don't even know what we'll be doing. It's freaking me out!"

"Dude, listen. It's not a big deal, I swear. No phones? No cameras? Nothing to worry about, man. We'll just parade around in skimpy clothes while they eat, and then at the end of the night, they'll strip us and we'll shoot a wad for them. Easy money, man."

"Wh-wh-WHAT?!" I belted into the phone. "We have to jack off for them?!"

"What's the problem, man? It's not like you haven't done it before, right?" he asked.

"H-how do you know about that?" I asked nervously.

"Hey man, I went through it, too, okay? Mom's therapy?" he said reassuringly. "I was the first subject for her 'sexual distraction theory' research. You know she's written research papers about it? I'm the anonymous patient zero."

"Fuck," I whispered, my brain not fully comprehending what I was hearing. "So, all the stuff she's done to me? What Mom's done? And Miss Swenson?"

"Yeah, dude. She did all that stuff to me first, man. And then some, from the sounds of it."

"W-what does that mean?" I asked, unsure if I wanted to know the answer.

"Okay, so you're nude, like, all the time, right? And you get spanked and have to stand in the corner? Shit like that?"

I nodded into the phone, not considering that he had no way of seeing me.

"And they jerk you off or make you do it while they watch?"

"Y-yeah," I finally confirmed ashamedly out loud.

"Is that all they've done?" he asked.

"Um... yeah?" I answered, my mind trying to think if there had been anything else. "Wait! They also make me... you know... satisfy them, too."

"Oh, right. The caregiver's tribute!" he laughed heartily. "How could I forget that? One of my favorite parts."

"The what?" I asked, having never heard it called that before.

"Their tribute? You know. It's like what you owe them to show your gratitude and appreciation and shit. Look it up, man. I think it's loosely based on some king versus servant history stuff. Anyway, have they done anything else?"

"L-like what?" I asked.

"Dude, you'd know," he chuckled. "Listen, man. Just go with the flow. I'm telling you I was scared like you when I first started the therapy stuff. But I'm telling you, it really does work. I'm like straight-A's, co-captain of the lacrosse team, got my own apartment, a different girl every weekend..."

"I don't want a different girl," I interrupted. "I only want Nadia."

He laughed again. "It's all good, man. All I'm saying is don't sweat it. It'll all turn out great. I was so off course. Just like you. But you're gonna dig it, man, and so will they. Plus, from what my mom says, it'll be a decent paycheck for a few hours of work... if you even want to call it work!" He laughed some more. "Anyway, gotta go, cuz. Just chill about it, okay? Later!"

"L-later," I muttered but he'd already ended the call.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

* * *

"Want some help?" Nadia's voice startled me and I jumped, dropping the rake I'd been using, the third one of the week since I'd already worn out and broken the first two cleaning up old lady Perkins' back yard. "Wow, Andy. A little skittish?"

"Sorry," I picked the rake back up. "A little on edge, I guess."

"Just a little?" she asked sweetly, reaching out and stroking my arm lovingly. "Well, hey. Did you know I'm off 'til next Tuesday? You know what that means?" she asked teasingly.

"That you can help me with all this yard work?" I asked, sensing I should be coming up with a different answer but drawing a blank.

"I hope you're joking," she sounded a little irritated.

"I'm sorry, Nadia," I apologized, shrugging my shoulders.

"Remember what they said? We had to wait a week?" she hinted, hoping I'd catch on but my blank stare turned her even more frustrated. "Are you serious, Andy?" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "My birth control?"

"Oh, fuck!" I nearly shouted when I finally grasped what she'd been trying to tell me.

"Andy! How could that not be the most important thing on your mind?" she asked and I realized I'd truly hurt her feelings. "It's all I've been thinking about all week!"

"I'm sorry, Nadia," I said quietly, walking over to her and wrapping her in my arms in what I hoped was a satisfactory make-up hug.

"Ew! You're all sweaty!" she shrieked, pushing away from me until we weren't even within arms reach any longer. "And stop saying you're sorry or I'll tell Mom and make you get corrections for it!"

I could tell she was still hurt and more than a bit angry.

"Nadia," I struggled to find words that might soothe the angry beast. "I'm sor..." I caught myself. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Honest, I didn't. I'm just so nervous about this stupid party tomorrow night. It's all I've been thinking about."

"Well..." she seemed to be thawing just a little. "Maybe we should just... take your mind off it... for a bit," she said seductively as she stalked her way back to me like a lioness on the prowl.