Control Freak: Aunt Janet

I set the framed picture of my mother on the center of the inset mantle. It was the first thing I unpacked, and the first thing I wanted to christen my new bedroom. Her radiant smile made me frown, as it'd just reminded me that she was no longer here. She wouldn't see me graduate High School, go to college, or get married. I reached up to take the picture down, but stopped myself. I was going to be stronger than that. I had to be. I'd just turned eighteen, after all. I was man. Time to start acting like one.

I was living with my aunt now, the eldest of my grandmother's children, and the most feared and hated. My aunt Valerie in California had offered to let me come stay with her and Uncle Vernon, I'd declined. I was going to be a senior in the forthcoming school year, and it just made sense to finish here in Boston.

"But are you sure you want to stay with Aunt Janet, though?" Aunt Val had asked, knowing full well the kind of hell I might be subject to.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I'd told her. I'll be fine. I promise."

I'd hurried her off the phone, because I knew she was going to attempt to talk me into moving out into sunny California. And while it was tempting, finishing school here just seemed like the smart thing to do, the better thing to do. Plus, there were other reasons I opted to stay with Aunt Janet...

"Boy, have you lost your everloving mind?" Aunt Janet screamed as she stomped into my bedroom, which was impressive in five inch heels, I thought. Aunt Janet is Hell In Heels. A certified super bitch from outer space. She's gorgeous as the sky is blue, but she's got the attitude of a agitated mountain lion. According to my grandmother, it was why she was forty-two years old without a man, which I think suits Aunt Janet just fine. She seemed to be more focused on her career as a business legal counsel.

She was holding a small wooden box in her hand with a Jimi Hendrix sticker plastered on the top of it. My fucking stash box. I'd forgotten that I told her it was okay to help me unpack. "Weed, Rome? Drugs?"

"Aunt Janet, I—"

Slap. The woman knocked the words, along the taste, right out of my mouth. I'd literally forgotten what I was going to say, not that it would have done me any fucking good. But about that other reason I'd decided to stay with Aunt Janet 'till I went off to college... she turned me on. Especially when she was full of rage like she was now. Her slap had gotten me hard as a fucking brick. I was half tempted to say something that would get me slapped again.

"No. No excuses, Rome. I know that your mother—God bless her soul—just died, but I'm not going to accept drugs a proper escape from that reality! Especially not in this house! I will not have my nephew being another one these black men smokin' weed and actin' a fool!"

"Aunt Janet, are you suggesting that all black men smoke marijuana and act foolish?"

I don't know what the hell came over me. I just said it. And in the most sarcastic way possible.

Slap.

I shivered, and felt my cock twitch behind my jeans. God, I was so turned on. If she hit me again, I was sure I'd make a mess of my boxers.

"I know your mother wouldn't have stood for this," she said, her pretty brown eyes narrow with anger, "so I don't know what the hell makes you think I would..." Her eyes drifted downward, catching the bulge throbbing in the front of my jeans. If she was disgusted or intrigued, it didn't show on her face, but she stared at me—my dick—for several long, silent moments. I felt my cock throb even more, and I realized my chest was heaving in anticipation. What was she going to do...? What was she thinking?

"Finish packing, boy," she said finally, making eye contact again, and then left me in the room.

* * * * *

I had finished unpacking in a matter of hours. Afters I'd called a couple of friends and informed them of the new address, browsed the internet for a little while, and punctuated my busy day by watching a some television on my aunt's gigantic HDTV in her living room. I'd tried to make the rest of the day feel normal. Like I hadn't shared an awkward moment with my aunt earlier that day. Like I wasn't some sick, perverted fruitcake that got turned on when said aunt slapped me around. I hadn't seen Aunt Janet since the incident, but she'd been home all day. Her car was in the driveway, at least. She was probably off crying somewhere or something, disgusted. No, that didn't seem exactly right. I couldn't imagine Janet crying in a million years.

"Rome," Aunt Janet called from her bedroom upstairs, "get in here this instant." Her words were clipped, commanding. Hot.

I shut off the television and made for her bedroom. I stepped through her half-open door and found Aunt Janet sitting on the edge of her bed, one smooth chocolate leg draped over the other, with a black riding crop in her hands. My heart suddenly started pounding. I didn't know what was going on, but all I knew was that I was probably about to be punished for my actions earlier that day, and that I'd been more turned on than anything in my life. She was still in her skirt and button-down top, but the topmost buttons of her shirt were undone, revealing her ample breasts supported by a black lace bra. Her long brown hair, normally in a bun, was free and falling down past her shoulders. She looked hot. She looked powerful.

I damn-near looked up at the ceiling and thanked God.

"Uh... yes ma'am?" I'd called to her.

Aunt Janet looked up from the Riding Crop in her hands, her eyes falling directly upon my middle. I was hard again. Very hard. Very obviously hard.

"Come here," she commanded sternly, her expression as serious as a heart attack. I approached her unhesitatingly, anxious. "Drop them," she simply said. She hadn't told me what to drop, but I was pretty sure what she meant. I undid my belt and the front of my jeans, and pulled them down and around my ankles along with my boxers. I stood there, my erection pointing at her chest, my t-shirt hanging inches above it. In the blink of an eye she swatted my neck with the riding crop, and my cock twitched. She noticed.

"Mercy," she said, "will be your safeword."

My eyes widened some, and she swatted me again. I straightened up, and my cock twitched, again.

"You're a disgusting boy," she pointed out. "Getting turned on by your own auntie." She swatted my cheek. I whimpered a bit. I thought I'd shoot my wad right then and there, make Aunt Janet's chest a sticky hot mess, but I managed to maintain control. "You have a smart mouth, too. I bet you worried my poor sister to death with that tongue of yours. Didn't you?"

I didn't answer. I didn't know what to say, really. Besides, I thought it was one of those rhetorical questions that you just didn't answer. Apparently, Aunt Janet wanted an answer. I felt the rend of the riding crop slap against my thigh an inch or so away from my balls. My shaft throbbed, and I almost buckled. I felt the precum dripping from the tip, sliding down the underside of my cock.

"Answer me, boy," she demanded.

"I did, ma'am."

"Auntie," she corrected.

"I did, Auntie." There was something about the title that felt... nasty. Wrong. I loved it.

"You've stressed me out today with that tongue of yours," she said. "And now you'll relieve my stress. Lie on the bed."

My pulse roared in my ears. Was she... going to fuck me? My aunt? I was going to lose it before I even got a chance to! I did just as I was told, stepping out of my pants and climbed onto her bed and lying down, my head resting on a pillow. Aunt Janet turned and crawled on her mattress, lifting her skirt as she stradled over me. She didn't wear any panties. Oh God. Dark, downy hairs covered her pussy, which was just fine with me. I was too turned on to care.

"You are not to cum until I do, do you understand? And keep your arms at your side."

"Yes, Auntie."

She eased herself ontop of me, sheathing my cock inside of her warm, sopping pussy that felt tighter than any of the girls I'd fucked in my school. Aunt Janet's eyes remained on mine, and I felt compelled to close them. I felt her hand slap across my face once I did. I almost came again.

"Keep your eyes open, boy," she said, slowly rising, sliding me out of her sex.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, gulping. She slapped my face again, the pain stinging my cheeks, turning me on to no end. I was going to lose it. I was going to fucking lose it. "Oh, God," I heard myself say.

She bounced atop of me, my cock pumping in and out of her. She rode me with one hand on my chest, the other holding the shaft of the riding crop against my throat. I lay there obediently, my hands at my sides, finger twitching, aching to reach up and grab onto her. I wanted to touch her so bad, it was killing me. I struggled to keep my eyes open, struggled to keep my cock from shooting hot cum up into her cunt.

Aunt Janet moaned, gnawing on her bottom lip. Pleasure knitted her brow, causing her to break the commanding calm she used to control me. "You disgusting boy!" She suddenly said, speaking through her teeth, and she slapped me again. "Filling up your auntie's pussy. Disgusting! What are you, boy?"

"Disgusting, Auntie!" I cried, her words driving me crazy. I felt her hand clasp around my neck, and a long, throaty moan escaped her as she bounced faster, heavier. Her tits bounced behind her bra, the sight delicious.

I couldn't take it anymore. My body couldn't take it anymore. "I'm coming!" I warned, to which Aunt Janet quickly climbed off of me and sat herself to the side, and watched my cock spurt hot, white cum all over my dark belly.

She rose off the bed, standing, breathing heavily. "I told you not to cum," she said, voice cracking a little. I'm afraid you'll need to be punished for your disobedience, boy." She turned to me, pointing with the riding crop. "You're going to have a long night."

I'm not sure how, but I was hard again, instantly.

A long night indeed.