The Unforgettable Weekend

"I feel fine today," I said quickly, wanting to dodge whatever was about to happen. I wrapped a towel around my waist quickly.

"Rebecca, I think it's important you don't get sick. I don't have time to give you both enemas, and it wouldn't be appropriate to do them at the same time. I'll do yours, and just make sure Patrick's mother knows to give him one later."

Something that my mother would never do. Much less to solve, what, a theoretical cold?

"Mother, no I'm fine," Rebecca insisted, looking truly upset. I didn't blame her.

"I'll just go get dressed," I muttered, squeezing past the two of them in the doorway. Rebecca wore, I noticed, seeing her for the first time that day really, a bathrobe, and probably nothing else the way her nipples pressed against it and how much leg shown through the opening of it.

"You take that robe off and lie down on your side," her mother said. "We don't have all day."

I crossed the hallway and opened the door to the guest room I stayed in. I tried to resist but gave in to the urge to glance back into the bathroom. Both their backs were to me, thankfully.

Rebecca slide the robe down, her pale skin almost gleaming in the bright light. The robe kept dropping, and her ass came into view. Her perfect, tight, ass. She started to bend over to grab the robe and I caught the merest glimpse of her pussy from behind.

Her mother started to turn around though so I did the same and hurried through the doorway to the guest room, closing the door behind me, quickly. I heard the bathroom door close, and then what sounded like a bit of a verbal fight, nothing like yelling but raised voices certainly. Then silence.

After a few minutes, as I slowly dried off and pulled on clothes, I heard the door open and close, just before the sound of a shower starting. I found I felt a little bad for Rebecca. I wouldn't want to live with Mrs. Johnson as a mother or suffer this type of indignity on the regular.

Even if she'd done some of the same to me, I still felt bad she suffered it, too. Don't get me wrong, I didn't forgive Rebecca, at all. But I felt a little bad for her, all the same.

I heard the shower turn off and left the room, my own used, damp, towel in hand. As I stepped into the hall, Rebecca stepped out of the bathroom, in her robe again. Her short hair was flat and wet, and the robe itself clung to her in spots, in a way I certainly did not mind.

She sneered and came up close to me, leaning in toward me. "That was your fault," she hissed.

"I didn't..."

"If you hadn't told her anything about you feeling sick, fake or not who cares, I wouldn't have had...you better not mention it to anyone at school. Or that video goes wide," she said.

"No, look," I said, moving past her to hang my wet towel up and backing out into the hallway, "I get it, I mean I know why you're mad. If she were..."

"Don't try to make us all chummy now so I'll delete the video," Rebecca said quickly. "You know I was going to have some fun with you later but now, oh now I think we'll have to increase it to make up for this."

"C'mon, Rebecca, you know I couldn't have known."

"Too bad," she said, and went into her room, closing the door behind her.

Great, just great. My day was off to a winning start. Even the sight of Rebecca's stunning ass couldn't begin to make up for it, really.

Downstairs, Mrs. Johnson came out of her own bedroom and down the hall to the living room and kitchen area. "Now I have to run out for a while," she said as she saw me, "and I'm already late. But Rebecca is going to have some friends over this afternoon to study with. So you," she sneered a bit, "will stay in the guest room until I get home. Is that clear?"

"Yes," I said. Worked for me, honestly.

"Good," she said. She bustled around grabbing things and left not long after. I went back upstairs to the guest room and closed the door. I just wanted to get through the day, spend the night and be free Monday morning.

If I could manage to go that long without anything else happening I could just chalk the weekend up to freak weirdness and be done with it.

An hour or so later I heard people downstairs. A few different female voices. I didn't go down and check. I was going to stay right here. Except I didn't have dinner last night, and forgot to grab something this morning, and shit. I needed to eat.

I would go downstairs, grab something from the kitchen and come right back. That was it. Simple. No one could get mad at me for that.

Downstairs, Rebecca, now dressed in a t-shirt tight enough to see the outline of her bra through, with another short skirt that showed off her incredibly long legs, turned to look at me. She scoffed, loudly.

"Sorry, girls, he's here until tomorrow. But he's not supposed to be down here at all."

"I was hungry," I said simply, and moved into the kitchen area. Open floor plans made it all feel like one space, weirdly. I looked at the counter to see if anything happened to just be sitting there. No luck.

"Bread's up there, Cheese in the fridge. Pan and plate are there and there," Rebecca said, pointing at things for me. A grilled cheese would be good. And if she didn't mind, then why not?

There were two other women in the house, both our age. I recognized one of them. Janet. Blonde, curly-haired, Janet. She was pretty, good breasts that seemed to be more than a handful really, and the looks of an innocent.

Which the whole school knew wasn't true. She wasn't evil or anything, but she hung around with Rebecca, and the two of them would get up to all sorts of things.

The other woman, also blonde but having long straight hair to her waist. Her face was narrow, chiseled, really, and her breasts were on the smaller size. She looked like a statue, though. I'd never seen her before.

"Wait, Janet," she said, "this is him. The picture? It's him."

Janet did a double take and then nodded at the other blonde. "It is him, Claire, holy shit. It's uhhh, fuck what's your name again?"

"His name is Patrick," Rebecca said before I could speak. "And he's supposed to be making a sandwich quickly and leaving.

"Why'd you make us delete the picture, Becca?" Claire asked.

"Because I said I would," Rebecca answered. "So I could get something much better, that maybe I'll show you later."

"Please don't," I said quietly, as my sandwich fried up in a pan.

"Guess we'll have to see how the day goes," Rebecca told me.

Claire pouted. "But I liked looking at his dick," she said.

I coughed. Rebecca made a noise between a scoff and a laugh, "Settle down Claire. Now let's study, right?"

They had books out but you could easily tell there had been no studying. The scene was so perfectly staged to look good if her mother came home at any moment. But that wasn't my problem. I took my grilled cheese upstairs and closed the door.

I was eating slowly, after gulping the first half down too fast, while I read a book I'd brought with me. I'm not sure how much time passed, but the bit of sandwich left was certainly cold. I didn't care. I grabbed it off the plate and raised it to my mouth as the door to the guest room flew open.

"How could you?!" Mrs. Johnson exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," I said, dropping the bit of sandwich back down, "I just got hungry so I made a grilled cheese. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Oh you just 'made a grilled cheese' did you? Is this how you behave at home?"

"...yes?"

"What is wrong with you?" she repeated, stepping into the room and grabbing my arm, yanking me toward her. I stood up with the motion and allowed her to lead me downstairs.

"I'll clean the pan, and my plate, I just wanted to eat fir..."

"This is how you treat a guest's house?" Mrs. Johnson said, at the bottom of the stairs, pointing at the kitchen.

It was a wreck.

I knew then, quite obviously, what happened. They'd waiting till I left, and then sneakily, as quiet at they could, made a giant mess. They knew even if I'd come down earlier I would be caught cleaning it and blamed for making it. This was Rebecca's revenge for her rough morning. There was exactly zero way to explain it to her mother, though.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't realize, truly. I'll clean it all, of course, no just let me go clean it," I said quickly. Mrs. Johnson let me go, and marched upstairs, coming back down with my plate and added it to the mess.

She stood there and watched as I cleaned dishes, and spills, and wiped the floor, I'm not even sure how I could have made this sort of mess making one grilled cheese.

Rebecca, Claire, and Janet sat around the living room table, pretending to look at their school books, but glancing at me working as much as possible. Let them. I wasn't going to fight a losing fight on this. Just clean it and go back to my room. Simple.

I finished, about thirty extra-long minutes later, and looked at Mrs. Johnson who still stood there watching me. "I'm sorry again, Mrs. Johnson," I said laying it on thick, "I truly didn't even realize I made a mess."

"A mess like that I find that hard to believe," she said. Me too, lady. "But you cleaned it up without complaining. That does help."

"Thank you."

"Now," she said, grabbing a spare chair from the living room table and setting it down in the middle of the living room, "your punishment."

"Excuse me? No, see, I just cleaned everything, and..."

"And for making the mess in the first place, you're getting another spanking."

Fuck. Rebecca knew. She had to know. When I said this was her revenge I meant it, and she set me up better than I realized. I tried to think of a way out but came up empty. At least though I had to try one thing.

"Could we do it upstairs? There are three other women here, and..."

"And none of them care," Mrs. Johnson said, sighing the words at me. "Now get those pants off and bend over the chair. I don't want to hear any more from you."

So what could I do? I knew fighting it would lead to my mother being called and all of the drama and problems there, and probably Rebecca sending that video everywhere on top of that. I undid my pants, trying to not look at anyone else in the room.

I let them fall to the floor and hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my boxers. I took a deep breath and pulled them all the way down to my ankles.

"Put them over there," Mrs. Johnson said, pointing. "We already know you can't spread your legs far enough if you leave them like that."

I picked them up, holding them in front of me, and took the two steps to place them where indicated. But then I had to turn around and walk back. I covered myself and took the steps quickly, before Mrs. Johnson could complain. Then I bent over the chair and, refusing to sigh, spread my legs wide.

As I bent over I realized that of course she'd positioned the chair so I would have to be ass-first to the others in the room.

They all got a great, clear, view of my ass spread wide, my balls hanging down, and my dick dangling past them. There was nothing I could do that wasn't somehow even worse.

Thwack!

I refused to cry out, or move. Not this time.

Thwack!

Thwack!

Thwack!

God it hurt though. And I'm sure the audience I had loved watching my dick and balls swing forward with each hit. I thought of them watching and felt flushed from more than just the spanking.

No, don't go there, I told myself.

Thwack!

Thwack!

I glanced over my shoulder, past Mrs. Johnson, just for a second, and all three women were just locked on the sight of the spanking. Watching my privates dance around as my ass got beat. Seeing my ass, spread by my legs behind so far apart.

The shame of it flooded over me, but this time, after all of this, it felt different. My dick started to get hard. No, no, no. Bad. No.

But it happened.

Thwack!

I felt my dick grow heavy and full, lifting, even as my balls tightened. From their view I suppose at least they saw far less of me now. But from Mrs. Johnson's view...

"Oh my God, you pervert!" she yelled, taking a step back for a second. "You're disgusting."

I stayed where I was, in position, trying to will my dick soft. No luck.

"Stand up, come over here, you pervert," she said. Damn it, no. But I did, I stood up straight, some parts of me straighter than others, and turned to face her. Which, of course, gave everyone in the room a full view.

"This turns you on?" Mrs. Johnson asked.

"No, it just..."

"I don't want to hear it," she decided. "Disgusting. This," she said and grabbed my erection tightly, "is all you care about isn't it?"

"Hey! What, no, let..." I struggled a bit but she had my firmly. The women around the table all stared, transfixed, though Rebecca had found her grin once more.

"This," Mrs. Johnson said, turning me, by my dick, to face the living room table fully now, "is all men care about." She was gesturing with one hand while the other kind of moved a bit back and forth with her body motion. I tried like hell to ignore that particular sensation.

"This," she said giving my dick a final, way too hard, squeeze, "and these." She grabbed my ball sack and gave it a squeeze of its own, hard enough I did yelp and sway a bit. "Spank their asses, and then don't care, do they?" she asked the women.

"But spank these..." she let go of my balls and them slapped them hard almost in one fluid motion before I could fully register what she was doing. I cried out. My erection vanished quickly. "Do that," she said, "and they get the message. Take your clothes and go upstairs, you filthy boy. So proud of that thing I should make you go stand outside and greet the neighbors,"

What? No!

"But that wouldn't be fair to do to them. So you get upstairs, oh don't bother covering your silly dangling parts, get upstairs and sit there. And you better not touch yourself or do anything else depraved while there."

I fled upstairs.

I locked the door, not that it would do anything, and put my clothes back on. My ass still hurt, as did my balls, but I didn't care anymore. I took a bunch of long, slow, deep breaths and just sat there, with my eyes closed.

I didn't want to deal with the parts of what had happened that felt good, either. Not yet. Not here. Later, I promised myself. I tried to just zone out and forget everything.

Time passed. Then some more. An hour or two easily, just skirted by while I was able to relax, and let my mind go blank. But then there was a noise.

The door opened quietly, I heard the lock go, softly. Rebecca stood there with Claire, and Janet. Janet closed the door behind them, softly.

"We're not supposed to be in here," Rebecca whispered.

"We're totally just watching a movie in Rebecca's room," Janet added softly.

"And if we're caught you know who will be blamed," Rebecca said.

She was right, I did.

"So," I said as softly as I could and still be heard, "what do you want?"

"A few things," Rebecca said. She sighed, "The first at least you'll enjoy. Well, eventually. First take your clothes off, but you knew that, didn't you?"

I had to admit to myself that I did. I stood up and took off my shirt, dropping it on the bed behind me. Then I pulled down my pants and underwear.

Was I still embarrassed to be naked in front of them? Yes. But I started to like that feeling, if I had to admit it.

"Now," Rebecca said, before Claire but her off.

"I want you to eat me out," she said firmly.

Excuse me? I mean, shit, sure. I didn't say that though, but damn, happily, honestly. My dick even started to get hard just at the thought.

"Oh, no," Rebecca said, looking down and speaking at my penis instead of me, "don't get excited yet." She looked up at me. "You'll enjoy it, I'm sure, but it isn't a free pass to just get to see Claire's, and I mean this, very pretty pussy."

All three of them laughed softly, and Claire blushed a bit.

Janet pulled a thick looking scarf out of a pocket and handed it to Rebecca. "You don't get to see her," she told me tying the scarf around my eyes like a blindfold. "Now, turn around, slowly," she guided me with her hand, "and kneel down."

I did, and realized I must be facing the bed. Behind me I heard a zipper and then the rustle of clothes and my dick got harder realizing Clair was taking her pants off. Then the soft sound of the bed being sat on, and the smell of a woman, so close.

A leg brushed my chest, and I took a deep breath. A hand rested on the back of my head, from behind. Rebecca, I'd guess, given that it was her who said "I'll get you the rest of the way," into my ear.

She guided me right to my target and I liked and sucked at Claire's pussy happily. She was already so wet when I started, her juices coated my chin. I flicked my tongue tip across her clit rhythmically and she started to breathe deeper and deeper.

I took a chance to go a bit outside the letter of what I had been asked to do and raised a hand up, sliding a finger into her. No one stopped me, and I fingered her while licking her labia, and sucking her clit in turn.

After a while she made the cutest, hottest, little squeaking noise and clenched down, grabbing my finger tight as she came. She pushed me away, and I felt her leg move across me again. Then more clothes rustling.

The blindfold was yanked off my eyes harshly. Rebecca glared at me. She seemed angry.

"That was great," Claire said, "I feel better already, just stress-free."

"Yeah, great," Rebecca said, her voice flat. Was she ... jealous? That made no sense to me. Except in that sort of 'Rebecca made no sense so things that made no sense made sense' sort of way. "Janet?"

Janet almost clapped and smiled at me. Did I need to eat her out, too? I wouldn't object, I knew that. But no, instead, Janet pulled out a condom, and started to tear open the package. My dick got fully hard, instantly.

"Not what you're thinking," Rebecca whispered, and her grin came back, now that she could be cruel to me. But then what did it mean?

I figured it out when Janet grabbed a dildo and put the condom on it.

"Get on all fours," Rebecca said simply. Whatever bit of emotion possessed her before had gone, she was back to cold, cruel and in command. And I realized I was obeying even as I protested.

"Please, no, come on, this has gone far enough. Please."

Rebecca sat down on the bed in front of me and leaned on her knees. "I mean we could stop but you know what happens next. All of it."

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Rebecca's hand touched my chin gently and lifted it. "Oh no," she whispered, "look at me."

I opened my eyes. "We each decided we got one thing from you," she said. "Watching you in this moment was mine." She smiled, and then turned it into a grin. I didn't know what to feel, a whirlwind of emotion hit me like a truck.

Second later I forgot about it, though, as the head of a, thankfully lubed up, dildo wrapped in a condom, pressed against my asshole firmly. Rebecca kept holding my chin, making sure I didn't look away, and locked eyes with me.

With her other hand she groped around behind her and grabbed my t-shirt. She let go of me long enough to twist the shirt into a braid and placed it in my mouth. "Bite down," she said softly, almost gently, "remember we don't want to make noise, now." Once I did as I was told she held my chin gently again and broke eye contact long enough to nod at Janet behind me.

The dildo entered me and Janet started to slowly fuck my ass with it. It filled me up, a sensation I'd never experienced in that way before. It didn't hurt, she'd used enough lube, but I didn't enjoy it at all. I bit down on the shirt to stop from making any noise though.

After a few deep strokes, the dildo pushing in to me and sliding back out slowly, Janet reached around and grabbed my dick, starting to jerk me off. The combination of the dildo in my ass and her hand was wild. I still didn't like half of the process, but the other one distracted me and felt great.