Uncle Paul's Annoying Guest

I tried to get my bearings. I decided to give this Junie a few seconds to consider if she truly wanted to go through with this. Her Converse sneakers rested on the floor and her hands dangled in the air. I said more nonsense, "Junie, you're been very bad and I never want to catch you stealing again"

"Oh, I never will again, I promise I'll be good."

"First, however, I have to make sure you understand your lesson."

Time was up. The set-up was complete; she was going to get it now. From my experiences with Charlotte I knew my way around a spanking scene. I gave her good solid slap across one cheek. She reacted in the expected way, saying "Ouch" or something like that and then wriggling around. I saw the first pink mark on her skin.

I was suddenly incredibly turned on which didn't surprise me. I seemed capable of lifting her body with just my erection. This inspired me to keep going. And yet I was bothered too; I felt a bit of pity for Michelle, although not for the brat Junie one level up.

I had never heard Michelle express any interest in this kind of kink. I had had fantasies of her in this kind of situation but I had never mentioned it.

Now I was in the middle of this unexpected event. I hadn't offered a safe word but that seemed like an unnecessary complication now. She could have easily gotten up if she wanted it to stop but she didn't. And one point she put a hand back to protect herself but I grabbed it and pulled it back. A couple of times I stopped and rubbed her which she seemed to appreciate.

I went on with this for a couple of minutes while she made sounds and movements that I was familiar with from Charlotte. When she raised her legs off the floor I didn't' order her to "keep in position;" she seemed to have enough to deal with. She grabbed one of my legs to steady herself. We said little during this; when I was done, her behind had a deep pink glow.

"You're not going to spank me with the hairbrush now, are you?" I had my cue and I thought of tennis now. She had put a slow ball over the net and all I had to do was whack it back.

"Sorry, Junie, I know your dad would approve of this."

I knew enough to be careful with the brush. She obviously reacted differently with wood on her bare flesh; she started saying, "Please, please" each time it came down. Please don't stop? I got to an odd number, nine, and I decided that was enough; she was starting to get bruised. I rubbed her again and I heard her whimpering.

As I rubbed her I said, "You're so warm there." Who was I talking to now, Junie or Michelle? Maybe both? I continued, "Does this make it feel better?"

"Yeah a little."

"These look tender." I pushed on one of the spots where the brush had come down. She squirmed and said, "Ouch, yeah, for sure.

"Junie, look at me." She wasn't actually sobbing but real tears were being shed. Unless she had hidden an onion somewhere this wasn't faked. But then I had to know more, specifically if she had gotten turned on by this. I saw a few tufts of pubic hair sticking up. No actress, no matter how good, could lubricate her vagina without actually being aroused. I put my hand down there to find out.

She moved very fast; in an instant she was standing up. And she yelled very loudly, "Don't do that! Don't you dare touch me there!"

I held my hands up, "Hey, I'm sorry." She rubbed her bottom vigorously, "Oh damn that hurts." I had some protocol to guide me here. I said, "Junie, go stand facing the wall and hold your skirt up so I can see you." She pouted but did what I had said.

Now I really needed that drink, and not just a beer. I went to the kitchen where I knew we had some Jack Daniels. A glass with ice was all I needed for this. Back in the parlor I sat on the sofa and sipped. She was still standing there in the same spot.

"May I please rub my bottom again? It's sore."

"Yes, go ahead, it's okay. You're not going to be sneaking around stealing from me again are you?"

"No Uncle Paul, I won't."

"So you're going be a good girl from now on?" At least these lines didn't require much thought.

"Oh, of course, I'm going to be a very good girl from now on."

"Okay, Junie, I forgive you."

"You do? That's so sweet of you!"

Then she was on the couch with me, hugging me and giving me another one of those passionate kisses. And she had forgotten to pull her underpants up; they dangled around her ankles. I very much wanted to put my hand between her legs. I calculated that I could be humping her in about sixty seconds.

But I knew this scene wasn't going to go that way. It occurred to me that I was fortunate that I hadn't yet put the steaks on the grill; they would be cinders by now.

"Junie, it's getting time to make dinner already."

"That's great; I'm famished. Oh, there's my lollipop." Fortunately the surface of the coffee table appeared okay.

She seemed to pay some attention to how the cooking was done. Maybe the lollipop soothed her. As for myself, I felt better too and deferred refreshing my drink. She wrinkled her nose when the asparagus was placed on the table but otherwise everything seemed to be going smoothly. I noticed that she had winced as she put her behind on the chair.

Conversation at the table consisted entirely of Junie's experiences at Fairleigh Dickinson. I heard quite a bit about the doings of what I assumed were fictional students and professors. I decided to goose her a bit, "Junie, have you tried out for the cheerleading squad?"

"No, I hate those bitches. They flash their panties around and all the guys want to get on top of them."

There are worse things, I thought. I suspected Junie's personality that made her less than popular at her school and that was the real reason for her disdain.

I tried the same tactic I had used on Sherri, "I look at them too, you know, I mean the college girls when the games are on TV."

She sniffed, "Well that's wrong, you shouldn't do that." Skip the half-time shows then?

Then she said, "Hey, I'd really like some chocolate milk."

"We've got milk and syrup in the fridge."

While she had the door open I wasn't too surprised at her next move. She bent way over to look at the bins at the lowest level of the appliance. Her poor ass was now showing red through her panties instead of white.

"Why do you keep vegetables down here?"

"It's called a crisper. Junie, you should be more careful about bending over like that."

"Why? You like looking, don't you?" She turned around and smirked at me.

"That's not the point. I mean, it isn't just me. . . Anyway, I'm sorry I had to spank you so hard."

She was simpering now, "That's okay." She looked around and then giggled, "I kind of liked it, you know."

I was curious to know more about that, "You mean it turns you on?" She looked confused so I was more specific, "I mean sexually."

She frowned and wagged a finger at me, "Now, now, you can't ask me about that." I couldn't figure out if that was supposed to be a put-on.

Time to refresh my drink. She said, "Let's listen to some more music." At that she took her milk and headed to the parlor. I looked at the dishes on the table and decided to leave them there.

Young Americans was still on the turntable. I said, "Play the third song." She seemed to have more feel for these lyrics as she sang them.

Every time I feel - fascination
I just can't stand still - I've got to use her
Every time I think of what she put me through dear
Fascination moves sweeping near me.

I sat on the sofa, sipping my drink, thinking this wasn't so bad after all. I was aware of Junie's awkwardness but now I was looking at Michelle's form. She looked good even when dancing badly.

Then she was in front of the bookcase again. She pulled down another book -Fear of Flying had been left on the floor. "Do you know what's in this one?" The Naked Ape: I knew exactly which pages I would hear about. I hoped this would be the final reading of the evening. Michelle, you may have gone to the well once too often with these books.

She thoughtfully lowered the stereo volume and then sat again in her favorite chair.

"Ow, that's going to sting back there for a while," she said as she tried to find a comfortable position for her spanked bottom. "Anyway, they got descriptions of, like, doing it this book."

"Fucking, you mean."

"That's a dirty word."

Well, pardon me. "Carnal knowledge then." That didn't register. "Copulation. Boinking. Whatever."

"Let me read it, you'll see."

"Junie, I've read this already."

She ignored me and continued going through pages near the front of the book. "There's so much in here, let me find a good part."

After a moment she said, "I like this, he talks about licking and sucking." Not lollipops I assumed. She took on a look of studious concentration as she read, " 'Once contacted, the partner's genitals may become the target of repeated actions of this kind . . . ah, the male concentrates largely on the female's clitoris . . .' I know what that is."

"Okay, so what is it?"

She leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial voice, "It's the joy button."

"How do you know about it?"

"Silly, I've touched it."

"You don't let your boyfriend do that however."

"Oh no, that's for the man who captures my heart." I wondered who that lucky guy who be, and I also speculated about her hapless beau Rolf presently dealing with her as best he could.

She went back to the book. She said, "Here he really gets down to the nitty-gritty. 'Copulation . . .'- isn't that a word you used? - 'Copulation begins with the insertion of the male's penis into the female's vagina. . . the male over the female, both horizontal, with the female's legs apart.' "

"The missionary position," I said.

"What's that?"

That would be too much to explain, "Never mind; does that seem. . ." Just how lecherous would Uncle Paul get here? I tried to imagine myself in my forties. How would a guy of that age react here? It was pretty strange for any man to listen to a girl going through this material.

I went with, "Does that seem intriguing to you?"

She went all coy on me, giggling and covering her face, "I don't know, maybe." Then she got back to reading more hard-core stuff. " 'At the moment of male sexual climax there are several powerful muscle contractions of the penis that expel the seminal fluid into the vaginal tube.' "

Desmond Morris's prose seemed to be dusty dry yet it also had some Monty Python-like comical effect in it. Junie appeared stunned, or in awe, of what was on that page.

"Junie, you must have read this before."

"Well, sure."

I decided to push it, "Do you touch your joy button when thinking about it?"

She got all coy again, "Oh, come on, I said I can't talk about that."

She tossed the book aside - it landed on the floor some distance from Fear of Flying - and, alarmingly, she came over to sit on the sofa besides me. "It does make me want to do some smooching however. Do you smooch with your girlfriend?"

As I was reaching for my drink I said, "We already went over this . . ."

She put an arm around my neck and pulled me in. In a moment she was kissing me as intensely as she had at the front door. I responded to her as I would with any woman and this time I kissed back. Then she swung over me and straddled me. Her vigorous movements took a moment for me to interpret; she was dry-humping me.

A stray thought about Desmond Morris's book occurred to me, something about male and female sexual contractions being identically timed at 0.8 of a second. I looked at Junie's face; she was biting her lower lip, her eyes were closed. I wondered if my role as Uncle Paul required me to just sit there until she was done. No, these games required input from both people.

On a whim I suppose, I got my right hand on her upper thigh and stuck into the side of her underpants. I didn't want to touch her sore backside, so I moved it towards the front. This may have taken a little more than 0.8 of a second, but she jumped off and yelled at me as loudly as before, "I told you not to do that!"

I tried a defense, "But, Junie, you were . . ."

Her stare stopped my words. Was she merely "cross?" I think I smiled trying to imagine the right word. She bent over and wagged a finger at me, "You're a total pervert." Then she slapped me across the face, not as hard as possible, but enough that I saw the white flashes people call "stars."

This was the moment I knew was coming: eventually a well-played role could cross into reality. I stood up and my thoughts came out as, "You little brat. I ought to whip you with my belt."

"No! Daddy never hits me with a belt."

"Well he's made a big mistake. Uncle Paul is going to tear your ass up with his."

I knew I was saying and doing bizarre things but I wasn't able to stop. I took my belt off as quickly as I could. Part of me watched myself doing and saying these uncharacteristic things, and another part was fully engaged without any doubts. I said, "Bend over the couch and take it, or do I have to come get you?"

She seemed trapped in the front part of the house, and I swung the belt at her. I wanted to catch her across a thigh, but she was quick and athletic - she evaded the belt and dashed past me into the bedroom. There was a door between the living room and that room that we rarely closed. She shut it with a bang and I heard the lock engage. It was a flimsy lock and I probably could have broken it by body-checking the door. But it wasn't really my lock or my house, and that leveled off my emotions a bit.

I was still shocked at my fury and I said out loud, "God, what have I been doing?" I put my belt back in place. Then the lock turned, the door opened and Junie stepped in. She held a rolling pin in front her, a weapon that would presumably help her clear the room. I had only seen women wield rolling pins in cartoons, but which ones?

"Who are you supposed to be, Olive Oyl?"

There was the faintest smile as Michelle seemed to appreciate that, but Junie was quickly back, "Okay, buster get in here. I need to use the phone." The only phone she had was in the living room. She used the rolling pin to wave me into the bedroom and then she closed the door.

Once in there I could hear her talking but I couldn't catch the words in her end of the conversation. I could have put my ear against the door but something stopped me. Like some of Michelle's earlier characters, Junie was giving me the willies with her unpredictability.

Then there was a banging on the door and I knew she had to be using the rolling pin. I went over and she said, "Come out of there, slowly. I swear I'll bash you if you try anything."

I opened the door and felt dismay looking at her. She held her weapon up, waving it back and forth. Why did Michelle go through these games to bring up such negative emotions in me?

"I called my dad to come get me out of this shithole." Yes, where exactly had that guy, my old buddy, gone? And I noted that Junie could do some cussing of her own. "He's going to meet me at the diner in Court Square." If she went into the diner dressed like that it would be the most memorable event in that place since the IRT subway opened in 1915. "In fact he should come back here and kick your ass." Entirely imaginary people didn't frighten me much.

She backed out the door and tossed the rolling pin in on her way out. I expected her to slam the door but she didn't. It swung closed and the mechanism clicked but it didn't lock. She had forgotten something; the big brown suitcase was still on the floor where I had left it. Or was that also part of Michelle's game? It was a good idea to stay away from the door in case she came back and slammed it open.

I remembered something else and went back to the kitchen - a good excuse to also freshen my drink yet again. Sure enough, the lollipop was on the table. At loose ends now, I went back to my place on the sofa and stared at the door as I had earlier. After a few moments I couldn't stand the silence and I went to reset the Bowie album; track four would be next. I kept the volume low and continued my vigil on the couch.

******

After perhaps fifteen minutes I was hoping she wouldn't come back. It was peaceful here just sipping my drink. But this was actually Michelle's place and I knew she would soon return. A minute later I heard a key being tried at the door and I called out, "It's unlocked." It opened halfway and she looked in - tentatively, I thought.

I said, "Don't worry, the rolling pin is still there if you need it. Who are you now, anyway, Junie or Michelle?"

"I'm Michelle, of course."

As she came in I noticed how gracefully she moved. Junie had stomped around the house; that person seemed physically larger. How did she do it? The body language, the tone of voice, the very thoughts that emerged from Junie's strange mind were completely convincing.

I said, "You should get a Tony Award."

"Really?" She was standing in front of me; she wasn't ready to sit down.

"Absolutely. You don't belong in movies, where they shoot four-second takes. You belong on the stage; it just rolls out of you in real time."

She obviously liked the compliment. I changed the topic, "Meanwhile, you've got some explaining to do."

"About what?"

"Have you seen your backside recently?"

"Oh, that . . . let me get my own drink, I'll be right back."

She returned with a Jack Daniels on ice like mine, plus her lollipop which she waved around in big circles. She found her regular glasses in the side table and put them on. "It's great to be able to see everything again. Those other glasses are old ones from years ago."

As she sat down I asked her, "Did your parents ever punish you?"

"Never; it's just something I figured out on my own."

"How did you know you'd like it?"

"Well, through fantasy." That didn't seem like a complete explanation. "All right, through masturbation fantasies. If I came while thinking about it, then it seemed worth pursuing further."

"Ever think of me during these things?"

"Yes I did."

I asked, "So did the real event meet your expectations?"

"Oh, definitely. When you were giving it to me on the chair, I was - my pussy was just soaked." She seemed proud of herself. "Isn't it great how we found this out about each other?"

That seemed a bit tongue in cheek. "Interesting how it took all these months to let me know about this," I said.

"Don't feel bad; I've never told anyone before."

I grasped her wrist and pulled her closer. "Yes, Junie, but there are certain things that we haven't finished yet."

"I'm not Junie now."

"You can turn that on and off at will, but I can't always do the same."

She gave me a dubious look as if she didn't like hearing that but she still knew I had a point.

"Stand up and turn around."

I positioned her in front of me and pulled her panties down. The red from the hand spanking was there but there were also several marks from the hairbrush. I suspected those would be around for a few days.

I pushed on her back, "Bend over more. Poor girl, you got it pretty hard for the first time."

"Well, I'm sure you liked it."

"I did but I also felt - caught by surprise, which didn't feel right."

I turned her around to look at me. She said, "I'm sorry I slapped you so hard. I can see the mark on your face."

"That was a surprise too. But I know what you'd say, the game has to be played through, you have to be true to your role." I grabbed both her wrists. "Then there is one more thing to finish with this."

She looked genuinely uncertain. I said, "You know what it is. But first, lose the hat." I took it off and tossed it on the floor, pretty close to The Naked Ape in fact. "I do like your pony tails however." I flipped them, each one it turn, and she looked pleased.