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.

====

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?