My Niece’s hard Spanking

My eighteen year old niece Wilma was staying with us for the holidays. Us being me, her Uncle Bill, my wife Maggie, and our four year old son Brandon. My sister had divorced recently, and was struggling to get her own life together. Giving her daughter a bit of family Christmas cheer just seemed like a nice thing to do. Wilma was a very badly behaved girl. With that name, I didn’t blame her. OK, it really is a nice name, but totally out of place for an American city girl. She had several nicknames she used at school, which helped, but at home her mother always called her by her real name, and the rest of the family tended to follow suit. Besides, I wasn’t about to call her “Death Baby” no matter what her friends did.

At eleven, she had been a cute looking blonde girl, dressed in nice girlish clothes, with just a bit of girl shape. Sparkly blue eyes, a lovely smile, a little angel. Now, she wore sexy clothes, or ‘street’ fashions, and looked more like a little devil than an angel. She’d dyed a red streak in her pretty blonde hair and was blessed with breasts which would be good-sized on an adult woman.

As her uncle, I could have easily ignored her burgeoning sexuality. But her outfits, especially her tight tank tops and halters sans bras, made that difficult. I’d have said hard, but thankfully I somehow managed not to show my physical response to her actions. It wasn’t as if she were flirting with me, just that she moved like she was trying to get some boy to notice her. Only little Brandon and I were around to be affected, and that annoyed me too. I had no idea how to tell her to behave, except to tell her to wear some regular clothes. Maggie didn’t want to play mother to the girl, either.

“These are my regular clothes, Bill! I don’t like any others anyway.” She’d leave off Aunt and Uncle when addressing us too. We just didn’t know what to do with her. She was family, and we were supposed to be trying to give her a family Christmas, all happy and joyful.

Now, the last time she’d spent much time around us she was a perfectly nice girl. That was about three years ago, before the divorce and the troubles which led to it. Not anymore. Now, she’d swear, disobey, talk back, break things and throw tantrums. We’d grounded her after the second day of her visit, and talked with her a lot. Long discussions, explaining our house rules, and trying to find some way to reach her. But none of this seemed to have any effect on her.

I talked with her mom, and she told us “Just whoop her butt. She’ll understand that, and settle down. I don’t know why you’d expect her to just listen to you.”

We were reluctant to carry out this advice. I hadn’t liked it a bit when my parents spanked me, or my sister for that matter, and I definitely knew that we hadn’t ‘settled down! We just learned how to avoid getting caught. It took some hard knocks after leaving home to get my life together, and I wasn’t entirely sure my sister had learned that yet. Maybe we were just soft, but I’d promised never to spank my child, and didn’t like the idea of doing it to my niece. Especially not at her age!

Then, Wilma smacked her baby cousin Brandon in the face, hard, knocking him down. “He should just leave me alone! I don’t want to play with him now,” she told us. She showed no apparent remorse for doing it, not even an “I’m sorry,” said to placate us, even if it were insincere.

We knew we had to do something. We talked it over, and agreed that I’d spank her. Maybe, after I did that, I might get her to listen long enough to make her understand. I didn’t want to hurt her but she couldn’t go around hurting others.

“Wilma, you can’t go around hitting Brandon, or anyone else for that matter,” I told her as she stood in the living room, waiting impatiently for me to get done with my useless prattle. My wife was sitting in the chair across the room, just listening, there for morale support. I don’t know why I ended up being the heavy, having to punish her, but Maggie just wouldn’t do it no matter how I asked.

We’d put Brandon to bed. I didn’t want him to see a spanking, something we’d never done to him. It was late enough that we could just send our niece to bed afterward, our more usual punishment of confinement and no TV. This time, there would be one more element.

“Your mom told us that we should spank you if you are bad.”

“I thought you guys didn’t do that!” Wilma protested.

“We’d rather not do it, but you just haven’t listened to us, and we can’t put up with that type of behavior. I talked with your mom tonight and she insists that we need to do it.”

“Did you tell her what I did?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, she’ll be mean to me. I’m sorry I hit Brandon. Please don’t tell mom again, Uncle Bill.”

“If you behave, I won’t have anything to tell her, will I?” I had reached her, with this threat. Did I still have to spank her?

“Hell, she’s already going to do it anyway. Why should I care?” Wilma said.

She stood with her hands on her hips, her breasts jiggling under her T-shirt. Obviously she’d left her bra off, again. I really wanted to get her to listen to me, and didn’t need her trying to . . . well, to distract me with her sexiness. My Maggie was more than sexy enough for me, and this deliberate attack — it was more than mere flirting, or even playful teasing — was getting to me.

I had to do it — I couldn’t think of any other solution. Dad had always said “This hurts me more than it does you.” I didn’t believe him, but now that I was about to do it, it really did hurt me. But still, I had to.

“Wilma, come over here,” I said sternly.

“Why?”

“So I can spank you, just like your mom does.”

To my shocked surprise, she instantly relaxed, letting her arms hang down, and walked quickly over to me. No arguing, no more talking back. It was as if she was resigned to being spanked.

But why was she grinning? Not a smile, she didn’t do that often, but the same sort of expression she had right before she broke something. I guess I just don’t understand teen-aged girls.

“Just like with mom?” she asked me.

Maggie hadn’t said anything, but I could see her watching this intently. Wilma was standing in front of me, as I sat on an open chair that was just fine for spanking. Her back was to my wife, and I could see Maggie nod her head, signaling me without words that I was doing the right thing.

“Yes, the same way,” I assured her.

I realized that I didn’t know exactly how this girl got spanked. Like Dad did with us? No way, he always took our pants and underwear off, even my sister’s. I didn’t see that of course, at least not after I got older, but she told me about it. However, I did know that her mom spanked her hard and long, and I knew I could do that.

Wilma undid her pants, and slid them down right in front of me – all the way down. I was going to protest because her neon green bikini panties were not just thin, but see-through except for the narrow crotch panel that covered her sex.

She slowly turned all the way around while doing this and I could see her bare ass through the cloth, not truly concealed. Maggie got a nice look at her as well, but neither of us said a word.

It would definitely hurt more to get hit through that thin cloth than her jeans. I could live with the exposure, and maybe Maggie felt the same way. It wasn’t like I was doing anything sexual with her, and after all, she was my relative and just a child.

While I was thinking this, Wilma slid her panties down while staring intently into my eyes. She bent over while doing this, thus giving my wife a nice look at her bare behind. When she stood up, I couldn’t help myself. I stared at her furry pussy, lovely light brown hair covering it, and the enticing ridge in the middle, slightly poking through all that hair. She waited, letting me look, saying nothing.

When I looked up to her face, she cocked an eyebrow at me before draping herself across my lap, face down, hiding her lovely pussy. Her ass looked up at me, ready to be spanked. No light spanking, not for this.

What was I thinking? I tried to get control of myself. I was aroused, but that wasn’t what this was about. This was discipline, punishment. Not play. Not sex. Nor was I here to hurt her, just to do enough to get her attention. To reach this girl. This very sexy girl, who apparently thought nothing about letting her Uncle look at her bare bottom. No way she didn’t notice how I had looked at her pussy.

Whap!

I hit her hard with the flat of my hand, and then did it again and again, on each ass cheek. Wilma didn’t put her hands up to protect herself. Instead, she spread her legs a bit and pushed herself down into my lap harder.

I glanced over at Maggie, and saw that she was signaling me. She mouthed ‘That girl is getting wet.’

‘What?’ I said back silently. I wasn’t sure what she meant, and then I realized it. I’d noticed that her panties were damp before, but thought it was just sweat.

I lost count of the number of times I’d smacked her by now rosy ass and suspected that I’d gone over the number planned. Yet Wilma made no complaint at all. She whimpered in pain, but truly seemed to be getting off on this action. I kept going, and might have kept on all night except that I saw Maggie wave to me. She put up her hand, signaling “Stop!”

I did that. Then, realizing that Wilma’s buns were quite red, I rubbed them gently, stroking her on every red spot. I noticed that I’d hit her thighs and, with her legs spread, in between them. Not on her vagina but I could see that now as my fingers passed within an inch of that wet opening. I could smell her girlish scent too, and I was very glad that Wilma couldn’t see my face.

The girl said nothing about this, just let me do it. I hoped she didn’t feel my hard-on, pressed against her belly. But my pants were tight, so she’d need to be very sensitive to notice. It embarrassed me, and her reaction did as well. I had no idea what I was supposed to do about that.

“Wilma,” I said, “Go to your room, right now, and don’t come out again tonight. Think about what you’ve done, and we can talk tomorrow about how you can learn to behave properly here.”

Maggie said, “I know that your mother and dad don’t do things like us, but I’m sure you can learn to get along here. OK?”

I was a bit surprised that Maggie didn’t try to say more, or offer some other suggestion. I thought she was really good at that, finding ways for us to get along better, ending fights before they got bad. But she looked as disturbed, maybe even aroused, as I felt. We’d played spanking games once upon a time, while trying out new things together, but somehow it just didn’t seem fun enough to keep doing. But Wilma truly seemed to enjoy it.

We let the girl go, and she didn’t even pull her pants all the way up. She left the room with her bare ass still showing, To my relief, she didn’t turn around. I could see that my own arousal wasn’t concealed well at all, once the weight of her bare bottom was off my lap. Maybe the increased blood flow made it grow, but I was aroused to distraction, watching my sexy teen niece leave the room.

‘Just a physical reaction, nothing more. I mean, even a priest would react to a display like that,’ I thought to myself. `It doesn’t mean I want to make it with the girl.’ My thoughts came first, then my feelings confirmed it. Less of a threat to my virtue than some porn star might be if one visited our house, naked. Wilma was off-limits, for many reasons, and I was glad. But God, what a lovely ass for a teen girl! Especially all flushed red from spanking.

Maggie and I talked about what happened. I couldn’t conceal the effect Wilma had on me from her, but Maggie said, “I’m hot and wet, it isn’t just you.” She stood up, then added, “I should go and check on her. Maybe she’ll want to talk about this.”

When Maggie came back, she told me, almost shocked, “The girl, that . . . Wilma was ‘having fun.’ Not all that quietly either. She said ‘Spank me,’ in between the moaning and groaning. I thought maybe that she just got wet from the contact, you know, but I think she really got off on spanking.”

“Like she was hoping to get one?”

“Maybe, yeah.”

We went to bed ourselves after this. It was late, but we weren’t exactly tired. As soon as we got naked, Maggie asked me, “How about you spank me like that?”

I was reluctant, because I had such oddly mixed feelings about this situation. I hadn’t spanked Wilma to please her, let alone as a form of sexual stimulation. But it sure seemed like that was how she took it. I knew that if I did it to Maggie, it would be even harder to think of it as just punishment. If I slapped my wife’s naked ass, it would be to make her happy.

But Maggie begged me to do it, and I gave in. Hard slaps, but not as many as I’d gave Wilma. Maggie interrupted it by saying “Take me. Fuck me from behind my whooped ass!”

I didn’t need a second invitation, and she was indeed hot, wet, and ready. I slid into her pussy, and my hips slapped against her red bottom as we fucked. In short order, she came from this attention, hard and violently.

“Pop it out, I want to eat you.”

Another thing I had no problem with. I was very near to coming myself, and didn’t mind reducing the wet spot load a bit. My orgasm was very intense, and though I usually managed to stay quiet, this time I yelled out loud!

Then, we did it again. This second time, I thought about Wilma’s lovely teen bottom and her sweet teen pussy as I spanked my lovely Maggie’s more mature bottom. Her willing exposure, and the joy she felt from her spanking, were terribly exciting. I didn’t mind, since it gave me extra energy for our second session.

After, I cuddled against Maggie and said quietly, “We need to do something about Wilma.”

“Tomorrow. I’m just spent. Thank you, that was great.”

“I love you.”

“Me too.”

I think I dreamed of spanking Maggie and Wilma together. I’m not sure, because it was almost a nightmare . . . because somewhere in it I was having sex with a young girl. But maybe it was a younger Maggie, or someone else. I’d had a girlfriend when I was Wilma’s age, and her bottom was — at least as I remembered it — as lovely as my niece’s. I didn’t want to think, not at all, about having sex with the young teen girl staying with us. Not my niece, that would be just . . . wrong.

In the morning, Maggie and I decided to do the simplest thing: nothing. Neither of us felt secure about talking to our niece. Not if we were to talk about spanking as a form of sex! Instead, we wimped out, talking merely about good behavior, and how we hated having to hurt her to get her attention and respect.

To our disappointment, but not complete surprise, Wilma’s temporary good behavior at breakfast wore off by lunchtime. We told her to behave, and I even raised my voice.

Maggie took me aside, and said, “The girl wants to be spanked again. She liked it, and it was no punishment for her. She just can’t get spankings from us without being bad.”

“Well, that isn’t any help. We don’t want her to be bad. How are we going to get her to behave, if she keeps acting up for more spankings?”

“Well yourself. The next time she is bad, let’s test out her reactions. See if she really likes getting spanked, enough to show us her sexual reaction.”

“You mean . . . what do you mean?”

“I came when you spanked me.”

“You did? You were very quiet about it.”

“If you had your hand on my pussy, you’d have noticed. I was ready to get raped, I wanted you to fuck me hard, forever. Or at least, until you got me off again.”

“OK, so we’ll make sure we know how much she likes it.”

“She’ll know we know, too. Then, maybe we can have a talk about it, and figure out a solution.”

It didn’t take long for Wilma to throw a toy, missing Brandon by inches. His cries of panic drew our attention. It was time to put our plan into action.

As Wilma came over to me for her spanking, her eyes sparkled, just as they had when she was a kid. She dropped her pants, and her young boy cousin Brandon was still in the room watching. I’d forgotten to send him out. I was going to ask Wilma to undress, but she was going ahead without me.

Brandon had seen us, Maggie and me, naked a few times. At his age, I figured that seeing this girl punished, even bare bottomed, wouldn’t be sexual. It might even make him feel better, knowing that this terrible behavior reaped a terrible punishment, even for this much older girl.

“Strip naked,” Maggie ordered. “This time, take everything off.”

Wilma hadn’t shown any sign of embarrassment about dropping pants and panties in front of her cousin, but was hesitant to obey this new command. I reinforced it saying, “You need to be totally bare. Nothing covering anything that might get spanked.”

Maggie added, “You’re a big girl, you need to learn to behave like one.”

I didn’t know what getting naked for a spanking had to do with growing up, and Wilma also seemed somewhat confused, but since it was my wife asking it, she complied. Her halter top didn’t hide much, I’d thought, until I saw how beautiful her breasts were. It wasn’t just that they were big for her body, but they were firm and full, and her pink nipples were long and quite hard. I’d guessed they were hard, seeing their points under her top, but the direct view was much more exciting.

She got her pants and panties off, then her socks too. Naked, not a bit of clothing on, other than her earrings, she stood and posed for us. We had not asked for that but it was definitely what I wanted. Slowly, she rotated, her legs slightly spread. Then, holding one breast in her hand, she gave us a lovely show.

I was terribly turned on, and kept my hand in my lap in an attempt to conceal it. My wife was aroused too, mouthing to me as I glanced away from Wilma’s lovely naked body, “She is too hot!”

Our boy seemed a little surprised to see his niece naked, but he didn’t say anything about that. But he did ask, “Are you really going to spank her? I thought we didn’t do that here.”

I explained, “We don’t, but Wilma’s mom does. We need to do this for her . . . to help her to be good.”

He seemed OK with that explanation, and sat down, watching us.

The naked girl seemed delighted to lay on my lap, anticipating my wishes without words. Her breasts hung against my thigh, her legs spread. She looked ready for her spanking. Or something more . . .

I spanked her. Hard, making her butt red and looking very sore. She squirmed and cried, but didn’t try to escape, nor put her hands in the way. Instead, she pressed harder against my body, wriggling across my lap. And across my hard dick. I worried that she’d notice my erection but then decided that it no longer mattered.

Forty hard hand hits later, I took a break. My hand was getting sore, and Wilma didn’t seem to mind what I was doing much after all those pats.

Maggie came over by us and said, “I don’t think she’s had enough.”

To Wilma, she said, “Turn over!”

Wilma did so, sitting on my lap, her back against my chest. Maggie said, “I don’t think that will do. Wilma, lay on the carpet on your back, legs apart.”

The girl jumped up quickly to do this. I don’t know what she thought we were going to do. I didn’t know what Maggie had in mind, precisely, but laying on her back, if we resumed spanking it would be on something more sensitive than her butt.

My wife grabbed Wilma’s breasts, pinching each and pulling on them. Then, she grabbed each hard nipple tight and squeezed hard. Wilma cried out in pain, but said not a word.

Maggie said, “Bill, spank her front.”

I was standing between Wilma’s legs, and I could see clearly the most sensitive “front” on the girl — her spread pussy. I knelt between the girl’s legs, and let my hand fly. First on her mons, then lower, lower, until I was striking her clitoris directly. It was red and stiff, poking its pearl tip out for me. I stroked it gently, making the girl squirm with pleasure, then spanked her again. Stroke, caress, lightly press, and then bang with my hand hard against her sensitive button. I repeated this action over and over again as Maggie pinched and pulled on the girl’s breasts.

Our boy joined in. I hadn’t noticed him walk over by us, intent on my own “punishment” of the delinquent girl. He grabbed her left breast and pulled on its nipple, copying what his mother was doing to the other breast. Maggie quietly told him to keep doing that, to help teach her not to hit or hurt him again, so he did that.

I don’t know what Brandon thought of this, but it made me feel very strange to watch him maul his cousin’s lovely right breast while my wife did the same to the left. The fact that I was striking and caressing the girl’s pussy, ostensibly for punishment, made the whole scene seem surreal. I was rock hard but had no idea what to make of my feelings. This wasn’t sex, not as I thought of it. But neither was it a mere spanking.

Wilma didn’t complain at all about this punishment. Not at all, not a word nor a move in protest. Her breathing grew faster as we continued and her pussy was dripping wet. We kept this spanking and rubbing on her pussy and breasts for quite a while. Pretending to spank her, now more caresses mixed with the “punishment,” knowing that the girl was really getting off on this contact.

Then Maggie asked me, out loud, “Is she a virgin?”

To Wilma, she added, “Are you?”

Before Wilma could think of how to reply, Maggie told me, “Check it out!”

I was between the girl’s legs, and I put both hands on her pussy, pulling her inner labia open to look at her vagina. I couldn’t tell from that, so I pressed one finger into the opening, slowly pushing it inside. It was wet and smooth, very warm and silky, but also quite tight. I pressed a second finger in with the first, and it could barely fit.

She was a virgin! At least, I didn’t think that my cock would fit into that opening, not without a lot of work. For all her wanton actions, she was still somewhat innocent.

Wilma confirmed my diagnosis, saying, “I am. I haven’t got a boyfriend yet who will do that with me.” She said that with long pauses, finding it hard to speak as we continued to spank her. I kept the two fingers inside her, stroking softly in and out, as I “spanked” her clit with the other. I was striking it, but only with two fingers, hard but with slow caresses between each hit.

We kept up this spanking; I working on her pussy, and my wife and on spanking and pinching her nipples. Wilma’s breathing got faster, and I accelerated my attack on her pussy until she came, pressing her vagina hard against my fingers, pushing up against my hand with her clit, making loud cries.

Maggie explained to Brandon that Wilma was crying from the pain. That was true, but only a small part of the truth. I worried about that a little, but we could clear up the situation later. I didn’t think he was old enough yet to understand about orgasms.

Wilma certainly knew what happened though. When she caught her breath, I told her simply and quietly, “Go to your room, and think about what happened tonight.”

Maggie and I hugged each other. I was turned on, excited by this situation, but confused too. Holding my wife made me feel much better. Then I remembered that Brandon was still there and that he was still watching us.

“Brandon,” I said, “your cousin was just playing with us. She likes this kind of game. We are going to help her play better. After all, the only reason she misbehaved with you was . . . ”

My burst of truthfulness suddenly ran out. I didn’t know how to explain why Wilma liked being spanked, and especially the last part where we spanked and played with her breasts and sweet pussy until she got an orgasm.

Maggie said, “I don’t want you to think we would do something like this to you, son. You are good, and you know how to behave well. But Wilma is having trouble adjusting. I hope this helped her, but please, don’t bug or tease her about it tomorrow. OK?”

“Sure, Mom,” he answered. “I guess her mom does stuff like that to her all the time.”

“I don’t know if it is exactly like what we did, but you could be right.”

Maggie then took Brandon off for bed. I sat alone, thinking about what we’d just done. I tried to think of it as just a kind of spanking, but I could still smell her scent in the room. I sniffed my fingers and the scent and flavor — as I tasted them — of her girlish pussy sweetness was still there. I remembered how she looked and felt, unable to think clearly of anything else.

Maggie came back, and we talked for a while. Maggie said, “I think that even a stubborn teen girl can figure out that we are onto her game.”

“Kind of hard to ignore an orgasm when your hand is on her pussy, right?”

“I don’t know about you, my husband, but I think I got carried away playing with her. I tried to spank her, to punish her tits, but I just couldn’t keep it up. It turned me on so to see her getting so hot from it. Watching you pat her pussy was, well, almost good as when you do it to me.”

“Do you think it did any good?” I asked. Then, seeing that Maggie seemed confused by the question, “I mean, with Wilma’s behavior?”

“I don’t know. Let’s find out.”

So we went off to the girl’s room, to check on what she was doing. Was she angry? Or would she be playing with herself, reliving what we’d just been “tricked” into doing for her?

When we came by her door, it was quiet. Maggie knocked, then walked right in.

Wilma was still naked, lying on the bed above the covers. Spread legged on the bed, one foot dangling off the side, she looked very sexy. Her pussy looked hot and wet, her labia reddened, even more I thought than what I’d done to her.

We both just stood and looked at her for at least a minute. Wilma’s hands were on her hips, not far from her pussy, but she lay still, not saying anything or moving.

Finally, Maggie said, “Wilma, we don’t want a repetition of your bad behavior. We don’t want to spank you, not for ordinary problems. So, I want you to promise not to hit anyone or break things on purpose, OK?” Wilma didn’t say anything.

I added, “From now on, we’ll just ground you as we did before.”

Then, I looked at Maggie for confirmation. I knew what we’d guessed about this girl, and we’d talked about a possible solution. Maggie nodded her head, and I looked at Wilma, staring at her eyes instead of her delicious looking naked teen body.

“Unless, well, and this is the only thing we will still spank you for like tonight . . . ”

I couldn’t speak coherently, imagining spanking the girl’s pussy again, touching it and making her come from my touches, hard and soft.

Maggie continued for me, “Wilma, if you go around the house naked again, outside your room, we’ll have to spank you again. Just like tonight. Front and back, until you scream again like you did tonight. Is that understood?”

Wilma shook her head. Then, as if daylight hit the room, her eyes lit up and she smiled brightly. Her blue eyes sparkled, just as they had when she was a little girl.

“Thank you,” she told us.

“For what?” I asked.

“For being so good to me. I love you both. This is a great Christmas!”

She seemed so happy. I smiled at her and said “Goodnight dear,” as Maggie and I left.

We heard some soft sighs coming from her room as we slowly walked away. Grasping Maggie’s hand, I whispered, “Let her have more fun. I need you, I really do. I think it is going to be very interesting with her around now.”

“We’ll see . . . but I’ll bet we’ll see her naked bright and early tomorrow. In the meantime, maybe you’d like to give me a nice holiday spanking?”

“I think that could be arranged.”

Wilma wasn’t being very quiet now, and her cries of pleasure were my cue to drag my wife off for a good night’s spanking.

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Not sure about nosex code for Wilma’s spanking, but how else to make it clear that there is only a spanking/masturbation scene, no other sex?