Spanking From Three

Mom chuckled softly and turned to me. "That was kind of hot."

I blinked at her. "Hot?"

"Mmm hmm," she said, smiling a smile I'd never seen her smile before. It was almost a smirk. "For a moment there, you had your father's authority, and it was hot."

She turned and headed for the stairs too, and I just stared after her, my mouth open in surprise.

I'd spanked my sister and she'd gone to her room. Mom had called it 'hot'. Hell, none of it would've happened if Mom hadn't suggested it earlier. Had she suggested it? Or had this been all my idea?

I really wasn't sure. The only thing I was sure of was that it had been a weird day.

I slumped back on the sofa and picked up my phone again, flicking open my Kindle.

Several pages went past before I realized I hadn't taken in a word. Instead, I'd been thinking only of my sister's small, tight ass, bent over the sofa, as my hand had spanked her again and again.

Fuck. I was never going to hear the end of this.

So I'd gone too far. I could see that. Still...

I thought of the feel of her ass beneath my hand. The demure way she'd said apologized to me. The way she'd said my name afterwards.

...It had been worth it.

*

I woke up the next day feeling guilty, and it took me a moment to remember why.

Oh yeah. That was why.

There were breakfast smells wafting up the stairs, and that seemed too good a motivation not to get up. Mom made the best pancakes. Besides, best to face the music, get it over with.

I sighed and got out of bed, pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

When I walked into the kitchen Mom was sitting at the table, drinking a coffee. It was Emma cooking, and she was doing it while wearing a cute little silk kimono thing I hadn't even known she owned.

"Good morning, Big Bro!" she said brightly, when she saw me. "Pancakes?"

"Er, sure," I said, taking a seat. Mom smiled at me briefly then returned to her magazine.

Okay, weird. Emma never cooked breakfast, and everyone was acting like last night had never happened. She only called me 'Big Bro' when she was really happy with me, too.

"Bacon and maple syrup, or bananas and blueberries?"

"Bacon and maple syrup, please," I said, wondering if she'd secretly be adding in some arsenic.

"They'll just be a couple of minutes," she said happily, then picked up the coffee pot and brought it over to me.

Up to that point she'd had her back to me, and I hadn't really caught the full effect of the kimono. I'd seen it had been short and silky, only a little past her ass at the back, a cream and peach number that I was sure I'd have remembered if I'd seen it before. But then, it wasn't the sort of thing I'd expect her to wear around her brother. Hell, it wasn't the sort of thing I expected her to own.

As she turned toward me, coffee pot in one hand, I saw the front was two overlapping sides, tied with a sash around her waist, and her pert breasts pushed against the thin material, her nipples making little peaks in the silk. It was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra -- but then, I supposed, it was early in the morning. Too early for seeing my sister dressed like that -- especially after I'd been spanking that ass the night before.

She stood next to me, one hand resting casually on my shoulder. "Coffee, Big Brother?" she asked, with a smile. A really genuine, happy smile.

Not what I'd expected at all.

"Yes, please," I said, my voice slightly croaky. I cleared my throat.

She poured me a cup and then bent down and kissed my cheek, "I'll get you some sugar and cream," she murmured, before she straightened. That tone of voice she'd used... it was almost a purr. Was she trying to tease me?

I cleared my throat again and shifted in my chair. The kimono had gaped as she'd bent; not open enough to see all the way down, but more than enough to catch the top of her naked breasts as they pushed against the material. Much more and there'd have been a flash of nipple.

Mom was looking at me, a wry expression on her face. I glanced down into my coffee cup, hiding the blush that was rising. It wasn't the only thing rising either, and I pulled my chair more firmly under the table. Should've put some boxers on under these shorts.

Emma was back a moment later with sugar and cream, then again a few minutes after with my pancakes. She sat beside me at the table with a cup of coffee, an expectant look on her face.

I took a mouthful. "Very nice," I said. She had cooked them really well. She beamed her delight back at me, like a happy puppy that had just had its ears rubbed.

As I slowly ate my breakfast, I wondered what had come over Emma this morning. This was a complete one-eighty on her attitude from the last couple of days. I couldn't remember the last time she'd made me breakfast. I could only assume she wanted me to drive her somewhere and -- assuming it wasn't across multiple states -- after the breakfast she'd served I'd probably agree. It didn't hurt to be nice, right?

She jumped up and collected my plate the moment I'd finished, and that little kimono jumped with her, offering a swift and tantalizing glimpse of skin.

"That's a really nice robe," I said.

"Oh, do you like it?" she asked, twirling slightly. The hem splayed out, almost threatening to reveal the bottom curve of her ass. "Daddy bought it for me last week."

I raised an eyebrow and glanced at Mom, who met my inquiring gaze impassively. What was Dad doing buying something like that for Emma? I didn't think it was the sort of thing Dad would have approved of her wearing, let alone bought for her.

"Interesting choice," I said, noncommittally. Mom's lips twitched, perhaps in amusement. Did that mean she didn't approve either, or was I just missing something here?

"Any plans for today, Big Bro?" Emma asked me.

"Not really." I hadn't thought about it. "You?"

"Gonna lay out by the pool, work on my tan for a bit. Want to join me?"

I glanced at her in surprise. That wasn't like Emma either -- oh, the sunbathing certainly was, but actively encouraging my presence? "Er..." This was probably just an excuse to have me on hand to fetch drinks for her all day. "I'll have a think about it. Going to finish my coffee first."

She smiled at me brightly as though I'd just agreed to anything she could possibly want, and walked out the door in the direction of the stairs.

"She seems in a good mood this morning," I commented lightly.

"Yes," Mom agreed, without looking up from her magazine. "I wonder why that is."

She'd used the kind of tone that suggested she knew exactly why that was, it was obvious, and I should know too. I didn't. I frowned. The distinct feeling that I was missing something was growing stronger.

We were both still sitting at the table a few minutes later when Emma reappeared, wearing a yellow bikini. Barely. I was glad I hadn't still been drinking my coffee; I'd have likely sprayed it across the table in surprise.

"Where the hell did you get that?" I asked in surprise. It was three small triangles, held with thin pieces of string. The two at the top did little more than cover her breasts, and even that was a generous assessment. The one at the bottom I could hardly look at, but it left the casual viewer in no doubt that Emma had had a bikini wax. If she told me Dad had bought her that I'd know she was lying.

"I bought it a few weeks back, why? Don't you like it?"

I glanced at Mom in surprise, but as usual there was no reaction. Mom's poker face was legendary.

"You're not seriously going to wear that out of the house, are you?"

What she wore inside was one thing, but going into the backyard like that? Our neighbor's windows overlooked our garden, and I could well imagine Mr. Rogers leching over my sister. Yeah, not happening on my watch.

"What's wrong with it?" she said, looking down at herself.

I fought the urge to face-palm. I mean, my sister was hot. She was fucking, smoking hot, and although I shouldn't think of her in that way, I wasn't blind. She had a body to die for, and that bikini pretty much showed the whole thing.

I turned to Mom in supplication. "Seriously, are you happy with her wearing that out of the house?"

Mom didn't even look up. "I've already told her she can't."

"Well then," I said, turning back to Emma.

She glared at me. "The back yard is still the house, Alex."

No more 'Big Brother', I noticed. That good mood hadn't lasted all too long. "It's still a no."

"Who died and put you in charge?"

I clenched my jaw. "While Dad isn't here, I'm --"

"--Yeah, I know," she rolled her eyes. "The 'man of the house', whatever the fuck that means. Don't remind me."

I leant back in my chair. "You're not going outside wearing that, and that's final."

She stared at me for a long moment. "Fine. I didn't want tan lines anyway."

She reached behind herself to the thin string straps that held her bikini top in place, and as I watched, still bemused by what she'd just said, she pulled the bow undone. Immediately, the two triangles that served as cups slipped loose across her bare breasts, but a moment later she'd pulled them off, dropping the top half of her bikini on the table. I blinked in surprise as she bared her breasts before me. Fuck, but she had amazing breasts. Pert and firm and beautifully shaped, just the right size with dusky pink nipples that were already hard and pointing ever so slightly upwards.

I might've said something if I hadn't been staring, but she wasn't done, and before I had a chance her hands dropped to the bow at her hips. Now even if I'd wanted to say something I wouldn't have; I wanted to see how far she was going to take this game. Surely not all the way? Surely, she was bluffing.

She wasn't bluffing. She pulled the bows on both sides of her hips, and the garment just fell away, one little triangle dangling on some strings held in her hand, before she dropped it on top of the bikini top on the table. I'd been right: Emma had recently had a bikini wax. She was completely bare.

My sister was standing naked before me, making no attempt to hide her breasts or her perfectly waxed vulva.

I could only stare in surprise.

"Happy, now?" she asked into my stunned silence, then took the few steps to the door to the deck.

"Oh no you don't," I said, finding my voice at last. Also, fuck, that ass. She had the hottest body I had ever seen in real life. Why did the hottest girls always have such bitchy self-entitled attitudes?

"'Oh no I don't' what?" she asked, turning to face me. She rested one hand on her cocked hip, her usual provocative and insolent way of standing when she was trying to get a rise out of me. But doing it completely naked was a whole different kind of provocative -- and a whole different rise, for that matter.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're not going out there naked."

She glared at me. "You said I couldn't go out wearing the bikini. You didn't say I couldn't go out au naturel. It's my backyard too, you know. It's my holiday too! Don't be such an uptight asshole."

She turned back to the door and had it half open before I was up from my chair. I closed the gap quickly, putting my hand on the glass and holding the door closed. She was right before me, almost in the circle of my arms, completely nude. My groin was almost pushing up against her ass. Fuck, it had been a weird couple of days.

"You are not going out there naked," I said through gritted teeth.

"Now you want me to wear my bikini? Make your fucking mind up." She turned to face me and I had to step back, otherwise she'd be practically pressing her bare breasts into my chest. "You just wanted me to strip naked for you, didn't you?"

I gaped at her. "What?"

She placed her hands on her hips and smirked at me. "Like what you see, Big Brother? Is this why you wanted me to take my bikini off?"

"You're fucking insane," I spat at her. She was really riling me up, and not least because hell yes I wanted to see her naked. Who wouldn't? Even Mom had been looking. "Get upstairs and put some clothes on, Emma."

"Or what? You're going to spank me again?"

"Upstairs, now," I said through gritted teeth.

"That's what I thought," she said, her tone as insolent as she could make it. "I knew you wouldn't dare spank me again."

I saw red. I stepped forward and grabbed her by her upper arm, pulling her to the table and pushing her down across it. I held her with one hand on the back of her neck, conscious of her ass raised as I bent her over. Mom had leant back in her chair and, for the moment, put down her magazine. It seemed even she wanted to watch.

"You will not speak to me like that," I said, and as I held her with one hand the other came down on her ass with a satisfying crack that reverberated around the kitchen. I heard her gasp with the impact. "You will speak to me with respect," my hand came down on her ass again, and this time I was conscious of her bare skin beneath my palm. Again she gasped.

"I'm sorry, Alex," she cried, but it was far too late for that. I clenched my jaw as I proceeded to spank her hard, keeping her pinned as I struck her raised bottom again and again, feeling the warmth in my palm growing rapidly with each blow.

I was lost in the feel of her bare ass beneath my hand. The view of her naked back, slender and smooth, stretched out across the kitchen table. Her long hair draped loosely over my hand where I held her, pinned, with my grip on her neck. She was helpless, naked, and I felt a sudden rush of power. Mom still hadn't said anything, just as she hadn't last time, and as before her silence seemed to encourage me.

"You will obey me," I told Emma as again my hand slapped hard against the firmness of her round bottom.

"Yes, Alex, I'm sorry, I'll obey you!" she cried, her hips twitching beneath my hand.

"You will stop provoking me," I said, as again my hand landed on her ass with my full strength. I knew that one had hurt -- I'd intended it to.

"Yes, Alex," she gasped through the sting of the impact.

"Apologise to me," smack, "and apologise to Mom, too," smack.

"Yes, Alex, I'm sorry," she whimpered. "And I'm sorry, Mommy." Her face was still pressed into the table, but I could hear the sincerity in her voice.

"That's quite alright, sweetie," Mom said, her tone even. I was surprised she'd called her 'sweetie', though -- it wasn't a word Mom often used.

I released my grip on Emma's neck. "Go to your room," I said, and my voice still sounded strict. At least, I hoped it did, because it sounded like I was sending a spoiled brat off for a time-out. But maybe that wasn't too far off. She might be my own sister, naked and freshly-spanked, but she'd sure acted like a spoiled brat.

"Yes, Alex," she said demurely, and I admit her tone surprised me. I'd half expected to get some snarkiness back, but maybe she didn't want to be spanked again.

She rose unsteadily and slowly walked to the door, her head down.

"Emma?" I said, as she reached the threshold.

"Yes, Alex?"

"That's twice. There better not be a third time."

She lowered her eyes, "Yes, Alex."

I sat back down in my chair. I could see the stairs from that position, and had a clear view of my sister climbing up them, step by step, her ass bright red with my handprints.

I was suddenly aware that Mom was watching me and I averted my gaze, my eyes instead coming to rest on the tiny yellow bikini that lay on the coffee table that had been the catalyst for all of this. I shook my head in confusion. I'd just spanked my naked sister, while Mom had watched. Spanked her for the second time in as many days. Had I needed to do that? Was this somehow my fault?

Mom had told me in no uncertain terms that I was in charge with Dad gone. She'd told me that Emma had deserved a spanking. And she'd never objected, at any point. She'd even called it 'hot' -- and that was while Emma had still been clothed.

And I couldn't deny it had been hot. Fucking hot. I knew how hard I was, and how clearly that would've shown in the thin shorts I was wearing. I wondered if Emma had noticed. I wondered if Mom had. At least the table covered me now.

"Would you like another coffee, sweetie?" Mom asked.

I blinked. Mom never got me coffee, it was always the other way around. And now she was calling me sweetie. "Er... yes, please."

She smiled and got up, fetching the coffee pot from the hot plate, and refilled my cup. I added cream and sugar while she returned the pot, taking her seat again, and I noticed she hadn't bothered to fill her own. Just mine then.

"How did that feel, Alex?" she asked, as I took a sip.

I choked on the coffee, putting the cup down quickly before I spilled it all over my shorts.

How did it feel? How the fuck do you think it felt? It felt... fuck, it felt good. Hot. Satisfying. I thought back to the curve of my sister's bare ass beneath my hand.

"Just doing what I thought she needed," I muttered.

Mom smiled. "Yes, she did need that."

"Perhaps now there'll be less attitude."

Mom's smile turned into a smirk. "Yes, perhaps that too."

I frowned. What did she mean by those comments? I still had that sense, in the back of my mind, that I was missing something. But it had been a strange morning. Hell, a strange couple of days. My family was a lot more fucked up than I thought it was... and perhaps I was too. I couldn't deny I'd been lusting after my baby sister. But then, she had been naked. Very fucking naked. I shivered at the thought.

Mom was still watching me.

I hid my embarrassment with another sip of coffee.

"You should probably go and talk to her," Mom suggested. But it wasn't really a suggestion.

I didn't really want to stand up right now. I would've preferred a few more minutes to calm down. "I'll give her a few minutes to reflect," I said.

"I think you should go now," Mom said.

Crap. "Er... okay."

I stood up self-consciously, and Mom's eyes immediately dropped to my shorts. Well, that was embarrassing. Her smirk was back, too.

I headed for the stairs, keen to be able to turn away from her, to hide the obvious bulge I was sporting. But as I began to climb, I gave some thought to what I was about to do. What should I say to Emma, after seeing her naked? After watching her strip before me? After spanking her naked ass?

Why had she stripped? I hadn't made her do that. She'd goaded me into spanking her, too. After I'd warned her against it.

Our relationship had crossed a line, and there was no coming back from that. Was that my fault, or hers? Both, probably. It wasn't really about 'fault', I supposed -- what was done was done. Still, that didn't help me decide what to do now.

Wing it, I guess.

My steps slowed as I reached the top of the stairs.

At least, with all the consternation I was feeling, my body had calmed a bit. It wouldn't do to be walking into her room with a full-on erection, after all. No, that wouldn't do at all.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on her door.

No answer.

"Em?" I tapped again, lightly.

"What?" Her voice was muffled through the door.

"Can I come in?"

"No."

Well, that was fair. But not quite the "I'll obey!" she gave me just a few minutes earlier. Still, I supposed I'd asked, not demanded. Perhaps I should've demanded.

"Are you okay?" I tried again. Silence. "Em?"

"What?"

I sighed. She wasn't making this easy. "Can we talk?"

"We are talking," she said, her voice muffled.

I sighed again. "Can I come in?"

"Fine."

I pushed open the door, stepping into her room. It was gloomy inside, the curtains drawn, no lights on, but with the bright daylight peeking around the curtains there was still more than enough light to see her. She was lying on her bed, facing away, and she was still naked. I hadn't expected her to still be naked. Her ass was darker where I'd spanked her, and I could see it clearly enough, even in the shadows. It looked a lot worse now. I swallowed nervously, seeing her naked, feeling guilty about what I'd done.