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Introduction:

This time some kids get to play with our hero
Joan's Slave - Part Three
I am literally cowering in the kitchen as Joan's sister and two nieces
arrive at our house on this fateful Saturday afternoon, and small wonder. In
the week since my "training sessions" began, I have been reduced to a
blubbering child.
Just imagine! A grey haired, fit, distinguished looking man in his
fifties,
trembling behind a kitchen door as his attractive wife gushes over her sister
Pam's daughters Annie, aged 12, and Dottie, aged 13, and tells them how cute
they look in their new tailored suits.
My knees are knocking together in fear as I consider what lies ahead. My
bare knees, I must add, because I am standing here dressed in a ludicrous
little girl's pink frock, little girl's shiny black patent leather shoes, and
short white socks with little pink and green flowers embroidered on them. The
frock is barely long enough to cover my pink silk teddie and my little girl's
pink cotton panties.
The backs of my legs are already red from the leather strap that Joan used
on me earlier today, when I balked at making such a ridiculous spectacle of
myself before her sister and Pam's two little girls.
"Argue with me, will you?" Joan had said angrily as she pulled my naked
body over her lap and whacked me mercilessly on my upturned bottom with my own
belt, then continued to whack away at my legs, and, oh lord!, my balls. It
was
no time before she had me tearfully begging for mercy and promising to wear
anything she told me to wear and to do anything that she or any of our guests
might tell me to do.
But what does she have in mind when she talks about giving Annie and
Dottie
a sex education course? And what is that huge thing in the backyard that
looks
like an outhouse that Joan had the carpenter working on for two days and then
covered up with canvas? And why does Joan slap my face and tell me to mind my
own business every time I asked her what it is?
But there's no time to think about all this now. The moment I have been
dreading has come.
"Won't you come in here, darling?" I hear Joan say with mock warmth in her
voice. "Everyone's just dying to see how sweet you look. And do bring the
snack tray, dear."
I know it is hopeless. I try to pull down the skirt on my frock over my
pink panties as best I can, pick up the tray piled with canapes I so carefully
arranged earlier while Joan watched me with amusement (I was forced to do this
bare assed naked with an electric vibrator shoved up my behind) and
tentatively
push open the swinging door from the kitchen to the dining-living room with my
patent leather clad foot. Red faced and already on the verge of tears, I step
into the room.
The expressions of startled amusement on the faces of Pam and her two
young
daughters are almost more than I can bear. Everything in me wants to turn and
bolt, but I know it will be that much worse for me if I do.
Along with my little girl outfit, I am wearing lipstick and eye makeup and
I know how foolish that makes me look. Joan had experimented with a blonde
wig, but decided it would be more humiliating for me if I appeared with my
ordinary grey hair, and I am therefore easily recognizeable.
I take one quick look at the three visitors before averting my gaze to the
floor. I curtsy, as I have been trained painfully to do, and advance toward
the
waiting guests with the snack tray. Joan nods approvingly, and I feel a
slight
thrill under my pink panties.
Joan's sister Pam is a woman in her mid-forties with slightly greying hair
that she always wears tightly knotted . She has a nice slender figure for a
woman her age, but I feel that her hairdo and the rimless glasses she wears
give her an unusually severe quality. This has never concerned me much until
the situation I find myself in today. Pam was divorced several years ago,
after her husband took up with another woman. This has made her extremely
anti-male, and as I consider this thought, my knees begin to tremble anew.
Pam and her daughters are all wearing tailored tweed suits, with skirts
that come down to their ankles. I envy them that. In spite of my situation,
I
can't help but think about what they might look like under those heavy tweed
skirts. I wonder what kind of undies they are wearing.
Dottie, the 13-year-old, is going to be a knock out. She has long blonde
hair, grey eyes, and a childish but lovely figure. Her younger sister Annie,
is red haired and freckle faced. She wears rimless glasses like her mother,
and her hair is in two long braids down her back.
"Oh!," says Dottie, "It's Uncle James! But why is he dressed up like a
little girl? Is it some kind of game?"
"You might call it that," says my wife. "You girls are going to get some
lessons today in the proper way to deal with a man, so he won't walk all over
you the way your Dad did with your Mom. I think you'll see that if you know
how to deal with them, men can be very very easy to control and that can be
lots of fun for us women."
"I think he looks funny," says Annie. "Is he some kind of sissy?"
She giggles.
"Why that's exactly right," says Joan. "Uncle James is finding out that
he's not the big macho man that he thought he was any more. He's my little
sissy boy, and he does just what I tell him to do. DON'T YOU?" She shouts at
me.
"Y-yes ma-m," I answer sheepishly, almost dropping the snack tray in my
confusion. Not knowing what she wants me to do, I curtsy again.
"Why I think this is hilarious," says Pam, laughing out loud as I approach
her with the snack tray. "And aren't those pink cotton panties he's wearing
under his frock?"
"Put the snack tray down, James, and show our guests how cute you look.
Just stand up on the chair, there."
"On the chair?" I ask, meekly.
"On the chair!" Joan sounds menacing again, and it doesn't take much to
get
me jumping. I can see that the girls think that this is an interesting
development, indeed."
"How do you get him to do whatever you want him to?" asks Dottie. She is
at the age when she is becoming interested in boys, but I doubt it ever
occurred to her to try and dress one up like a little girl.
"That's our topic for today," says Joan with a smile.
"James!" she says sharply.
"Yes ma-am," I reply, as if responding to a drill sergeant. I am perched
uncertainly atop the chair.
"Pull up your frock and show the girls your pretty pink panties."
"Red as a beet, I do as she asks.
"Oh doesn't he look sweet?" says Pam with a giggle.
"What's that big thing in his panties Mommie?" asks Annie.
"James," says my wife, "Pull down your panties and show them your not
really a girl."
I look at her beseechingly.
"Get them down! And fast!"
Flushed anew with embarrassment, I pull down my little pink underdrawers,
exposing my now swelling member to the four highly interested females arrayed
before me.
"Oh mommy," says Annie.
"I've seen pictures of them in Sex Ed, says Dottie, but I didn't know they
were so big."
"They get that big when the man gets aroused," says Joan. "But that's a
no-no for your Uncle James when you girls are here."
"What can you do about it," Dottie asks.
""Watch," says Joan.
She takes a metal ruler and raps it sharply against the side of my cock.
"Ooohh," I say involuntarily. My cock goes limp
"That's better," says Joan. And she gives my balls a hard squeeze,
causing
me to moan again.
"I never noticed those," says Annie.
"Those are his balls, or testicles as they are properly known, dear," says
her mother.
"Can I squeeze them?" asks Annie.
"Well, I don't know..." her mother says.
"Of course you can," says Joan.
"James, tell the girls they can squeeze your balls as hard as they like."
"You can squeeze my balls as hard as you like," I respond automatically.
"And pull your cock."
"And pull my cock."
"What if it gets big again," asks Pam.
"Here," says Joan. "Take the ruler. If it gets big, just give it a whack
with this."
"I'd love to use that on his behind," says Pam. "That's what all men need
as far as I am concerned."
"James," says Joan. "Get down off that chair and grab your ankles. Don't
bother to pull up your panties."
I do as she says immediately.
"You can put your hands on your bottom cheeks and spread them for us now.
That's good. That's what I call his bull's eye."
"Pam," Joan continues, " I'm going to get some rubber gloves from the
kitchen so we can play with his ass hole without getting ourselves dirty, but
in the mean time, let him have it good and hard with this ruler."
"With pleasure!" Pam responded, and suiting action to words, gave me a
searing whack across my poor exposed bottom with the metal rod. "Count them
out, James dear," says Pam, I'm going to give you twenty five, and I want you
to thank me for each one!"
"Ooh one! thank you Pam, two thank you Pam, threeeee" I screech as this
one
hits me right across my ass hole, "thank you Pam!"
"Oh mommy. can I whack him too?" asks Annie.
"Of course," Pam says. When she finishes, she makes me crawl on my hands
and knees over to each of the little girls, each of whom, in turn, take the
ruler and whack me on my upturned behind. While Dottie has me bawling like a
baby, her sister, Annie,reaches down and grabs my balls and gives them a
horrible squeeze that makes me scream in pain.
"Mommy look," says Dottie, "his thing isn't big any more."
"That's because you are hurting his balls, dear," says her mother. "Keep
it up, it will do him good!"
My wife, Joan, returns from the kitchen with a rubber glove and also with
a
huge butt plug.
"OK girls," says Joan, "It's goosy goosy time."
"Can I goose him first, Aunt Joan? Please! Please!" begs Annie.
"If you promise to stick as many fingers as you can all the way up his
asshole," says Joan. "And I mean all the way!."
"Oh, I will, I will," says Annie, and Joan hands her the rubber gloves.
"We have to lubricate them first," says Joan, "But not too much. Stick
them in his mouth and make him suck the fingers. Here James," she says to me,
"I want you to slobber all over these gloves, and make little piggie noises
while you do."
I am too frightened to do anything but what she tells me to do.
"Now crawl over to Annie and drop the gloves at her feet. Then turn around
so that she has a good view of your cute little bottom."
My poor red bottom is sticking up in the air and my head is buried in my
hands.
"Can I squeeze his pee-pee too, Aunt Joan?" asks Dottie.
"Of course you can," says Joan. "But you must squeeze it very hard.
Otherwise he might enjoy it and make a mess all over your hand."
The litle girl's fingernails are digging into the flesh of my penis and I
scream with pain. No chance of me coming here. Oh god, there go her fingers
probing up my asshole. One, two, three, four.
"Very good," says Joan. "You've got everything in their except your
thumb."
"Can I try too. Aunt Joan?" asks Dottie.
"Why don't you climb on top of him and ride him like a pony?"
"Oh goodie," says Dottie, laughing with delight.
"Now girls, stop for a moment," says Joan. "We want him to take off all
of
his little girl clothes and get all naked for us now. James! Do as I say! And
don't you dare tear any of your things or I'll paddle you till you can't sit
down for a week! Now get over here and stand at attention while I tell you
what
to do next!"
"Yes ma'am," I mumble.
"Turn around and bend over so I can stick this butt-plug in your ass-hole.
Then I want you to crawl over to everyone here and shine their shoes with your
tongue. But first bend over!"
Joan shoves the butt plug up my ass in such a way that I scream again with
pain. I am now naked on my hands and knees in front of my wife, lovingly
licking her high heeled shoes. I believe they are clean now, but I don't dear
stop. It is a good ten minutes before she orders me to leave her and lick
Pam's shoes next.
After Pam I do Dottie's shoes and then Annie's. I get a hard on thinking
of how nice it would be to look up the little girl's dresses, but of course
they are wearing long skirts and I can't. Joan notices I am getting hard.
"Why you disgusting lecher!" she says. "Pam, just look at the size of his
thing. Go get that big leather belt and whack his ass good for him while he's
licking Annie's shoes. Dottie, you count them out, I want at least fifty good
whacks on his ass. And try and hit the butt plug if you can, Pam, that will
give him something more to think about!"
Pam is finished whacking my ass, and I have collapsed in tears, naked on
the floor, wracked with sobs in front of little Annie. I don't care what these
little girls think of me any more, I hurt so much. God, I would like to see
their behinds! But that is not to be."
"Aunt Joan, can I use the toilet, please?" asks Dottie.
"Can you hold on for just a minute or two, dear?" says Joan. She goes over
to Dottie and Pam and whispers something to the two of them."
"Really?" says Pam. "That's really going to be something!"
"James," she says to me sharply. "Pull yourself together, we're going
outside! But first I want you to put on this doggie collar."
"Can I put my panties and my frock back on, please?" I ask, hoping that if
the neighbors should see me that way they at least may not recognize me.
"You most certainly can not!" says Joan, adjusting the collar. "I want you
out in the yard naked on your leash!"
"You walk him Pam," she says. "Alright now, let's go. James, my sweet
little piece of shit, you are finally going to find out what that thing is out
in the yard that you have been so curious about."
(To be continued.)
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