Chapter 32: Bikini Punishment

My cock back to the right size in my pants, I went out to give the girls directions. They were out waiting on me, not talking. I turned the handle to the outdoor water spigot and grabbed the hand sprayer. “You two get over here,” I demanded, leaving no ambiguity in the timeframe though it hadn’t been specified. I pointed to the ground. “Stand there and don’t move.”

I aimed the water stream at their heads. The hose had been heated by the sun, and it initially came out hot. The hair on the girls ran down over their faces. They were beginning to enjoy being sprayed down with the streams covering their bodies. Until the spray rapidly cooled the hose and came out cold.

The two started dancing up and down and turned, trying to get out of the way of the cold water. Yet they didn’t move off their spots. They bellowed, “Shit, it’s cold. Please stop. We’re cooled off. Shit ... shit ... shit.” They continued jumping up and down, twirling around the hoe handles in their hands.

I informed them, “This isn’t to cool you off. It’s to rinse off that horrible-smelling tanning oil you guys made. You’ll get tan the old-fashioned way. Working in the sun. As long as I still see oil on you, I’ll keep hosing you down.”

The girls’ hands quickly went to wiping over their skin. They vigorously rubbed their slender arms and bent, doing the same to their goosebumps-covered legs. I accidentally, on purpose, had the water stream hit the string that was meant to cover their bungholes that were flashed to me. Cheryl didn’t seem to mind the stream hitting her puckered starburst. She moved her butt up and down slightly, making the stimulation the water provided come and go. Helen left it hitting her rosebud, making no indications of enjoyment or irritation.

Their whole bodies were covered in goosebumps when I finally stopped spraying them. The small patches covering Helen’s nipples were rapidly put back over the hard buds they had become. Her goosebumped upper chest flushed with embarrassment as she covered up the delectable-looking pink rings. Cheryl too adjusted her small patches of fabric over her equally delicious-looking nipples. She, though, only had goosebumps covering her small breast, not embarrassed in the slightest at having me see her nipples.

I pointed across the yard and told them, “Now, over there. Clear that large spot of weeds and grass. We’ll use it for the garden.” Hoes in their hands, the teens stood resting their weight on the tops of the handles. They both stood longer than they should have. I shouted, “Well, get started.”

The wet bikini-clad girls started on opposite sides of the large plot bordering the existing garden. Helen and Cheryl finished one row. Then Helen stood, not moving after getting to the end. Cheryl continued working, starting on the next row. Seeing Helen, Cheryl complained loudly across the garden’s large plot, “Why did you stop? You’re just as guilty as me.”

I quietly walked up behind Helen and approximated the curvature of her ass. I cupped my hand to match her ass’s outline and swatted her ass hard. “Get to work,” I demanded, my hand feeling the effects of the slap.

Helen yipped, “Oww!” Her butt turned a shade of pink in the shape of a hand, and tears ran down her face for a couple of seconds. She quickly got to work. After a few minutes, I went a little further away from the girls, out of earshot or what they thought was earshot. The girls started acting like teen sisters. They teased each other about boys. Who had a crush on whom, who wanted to make out with them, and what they would do if they went out with a boy.

While teasing each other, Helen again stopped working. It prompted Cheryl to complain again. “Hey, you’re not working again. And I’ve done lots more than you.”

Helen said, “It’s not my fault; you’re a sucker and are doing most all the work.” She stuck her tongue out at her friend. Helen, again, had no idea I had come up quietly behind her. For a second time, I matched my hand to her ass. And for a second time, a smack could be heard across the yard. And her other butt cheek turned red.

Helen yipped again, “Oww.” Tears formed in her eyes but didn’t roll down her cheeks. And this time, I again heard a bit of a moan before she asked, “What was that for?”

“Not working. And if I see you standing around again, you’ll get the same smack on your ass. Now back to work.” She did as instructed only for a few minutes. She stopped working again. The metal part of the hoe pressed against the ground, and her chin rested on her hands, rounding the top of the handle. The third whack on her ass elicited all the same reactions.

Cheryl thought I was out of earshot again. But I continued doing my work listening and heard her say. “It’s like you like him spanking your butt. And if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re getting wet.” I didn’t know if Cheryl was right. It was hard to tell with Helen’s body being sweaty and overheated.

After some thought, Helen blushed and said in kind of a ho-hum way, “Yeah, maybe a little.”

Cheryl said surprised, “What? You liked that?” Then, in a friendly accusatory way, added, “You little tramp.”

“Yeah. And?!” Helen replied like she knew she was a tramp and didn’t care.

“You’re such a slut. Do you really like your ass smacked? I’m going to have to do that for you. Or is it just John smacking your ass that gets you hot?” The accusations were a little less friendly but still far from a catfight.

“Don’t know. Nobody else ever smacked my butt like that before.” She answered. Then turned it back on Cheryl. “And what are you talking about, whore? You like your clitty bitten and nipples pinched. It’s not so different. You would drop your panties if Tommy Forrest was pinching your nipples.” Helen teased.

“Yeah, well, you would blow Andre Davies if he smacked your ass. I bet you want to do it at the same time.” Cheryl teased back. The girls kept working and talking. They teased each other about the other wanting different boys at school to smack their butts and pinch their nipples.

The taunting ended with Cheryl saying, “You really just want John to do that? Spank your butt. Don’t you?” Helen had no answer; she wanted to give. Instead, she bent down for a handful of busted-up dirt and tossed it playfully at Cheryl. A full-fledged dirt fight began. They tossed handful after handful at each other, leaving them with speckled dirt all over their bodies.

They were less than a quarter the way through with their work, and I didn’t want them to get out of hand. The playful dirt fight had loose Earth ending up in their hair and covering parts of their pretty faces with flecks of dirt. I also didn’t want them to get dirt in each other’s eyes. They already had dirt dots on their cheeks and foreheads close to their eyeballs. “Stop and get back to work,” I hollered at the teens. They did as I said and started back.

Soon, the lack of bug repellent and their sweaty bodies started attracting bugs. The mosquitoes and other insects were feasting on the hot bodies that attracted them. With dirty gloved hands, the girls swatted at each bug and insect as it bit them. The swats didn’t hit many of the feasters but left mud smudges across faces, stomachs, thighs, and asses.

When I looked at them, I couldn’t help but think. They kind of look like national geographic pictures of the Aborigine. If there were such a thing as a white aborigine. They would be it with all the mud that ended up caked on them from both swatting at insects and their playful dirt fight.

Over the next couple of hours, three more times I had to encourage Helen to keep working. Each time I encouraged Helen back to work, it came with a single spanking of her butt. However, I wasn’t sure if it was encouragement or Helen’s version of foreplay. Her teeny bikini was covered in sweat, so it was difficult to tell what was excitement versus labor making her bottoms wet. Yet after their conversation, where Helen admitted she kind of liked being spanked. Cheryl giggled every time Helen was spanked back to work. Cheryl had a Cheshire grin each time and said, “Yeah, get to work, slut.” She too received a couple of smacks on her ass, as she too stopped on occasion. One was perceived by Cheryl as random when I smacked her butt as I passed. She bellowed out, “Hey, what did I do?”

“Quit calling your friend a slut,” I said in the way of an answer.

“Fine,” she said to my back as I continued on across the property.

Being mostly out of the area, I heard Helen again talk quietly to Cheryl, “See, that’s kind of fun. The sting afterward is kind of hot. It gives you a tingle in your pussy.”

Cheryl responded, “Yeah, I guess so. But not so much that I would intentionally have him spanking me. There are better ways of having your pussy tingle.”

Helen didn’t respond but looked like she was rolling the thought over in her head.

By the end of the day, the girls had completed the task at hand. After working all day, they were covered in sweat and mud. I had managed to keep the two apart all day. Though a couple of times, I saw a quick stroke of an ass or a grab of a tit. These happened when they thought I wasn’t looking. As the sun was setting, I told them, “Okay girls, you’re done for the day. Time to go in and have dinner. I know I’m hungry since we skipped lunch.” I thought but didn’t say, “And you can skip making anything; I’ll just eat you two.”

Cheryl said, “We’ll go in and get our showers. Then we’ll start making dinner.”

“No, you two won’t. You’ll not be showering together or going into the house coated in dirt and mud.

Once again, I grabbed the hose and turned on the water. For a second time, I told the girls, “Stand there.” The girls stood in front of me. Both looked uninterested in getting sprayed off by the garden hose again.

I didn’t care; they weren’t interested. Also again, the initial water coming out of the hose spraying onto their faces was heated by the sun beating on the hose all day. Like the time earlier, it gradually cooled off, and by the time the spray was hitting their breasts, it was cold. Their nipples turned to hard points as the spray rapidly cooled their sweaty torsos. Cold water ran down their stomachs, making goosebumps cover their whole bodies. Tiny bumps where smooth skin had been broke out down stomachs and across butt cheeks. This time I intentionally had the powerful jet from the hose sprayer pointed at their clits.

Cheryl was the first one to have her clit hidden beneath the almost nonexistent bikini bottoms hit with the water spray. She responded to having her covered button blasted by cold water. She moaned loudly and closed her eyes for a moment before she began prancing in place. She whined, “God, stop. It’s freezing.”

A second later, Helen was having her clit vibrated beneath her small bottoms. The water bounced off the bikini that, like Cheryl’s, had become mostly see-through. She, too, moaned for a moment, even though it lasted just a few seconds. After which she high stepped in place, being sprayed.

Holding up my hand, I made a turning motion, indicating they should rotate. They turned around, and the spray started at their shoulders. I worked the stream down their backs. The water cascaded down, turning lightly brown while taking the remnants of the dirt fight and the bug slapping with it. Then I pointed the stream at the top of their coccyx. And, started the stream along the string that made up part of their bikini thong, between their ass cracks. Both girls wiggled their butts as the stream poured between their butt cheeks. When I finished the rinse of the girls and asked them, “Which one of you two wants to get into the shower first?”

Cheryl raised her hand, bounding up and down on her toes like she was answering a question at school. “ Me ... me ... me.”

Staring her down, I said, “We have three people that need to get cleaned up. Limit your time so the hot water will be available for others.” She nodded her agreement and ran into the house, leaving Helen outside with me.

I couldn’t help but admire the girl’s mostly naked body. It reminded me of her mom and how we had sat around having a conversation about nothing in particular and breakfast once Penelope had gone.

The small talk lasted a short time. Helen, out of the blue, said, “I don’t know why we are going on our trip. I don’t know how Dad is going to pay for it all.” I was amazed at the intuitiveness of the teenager. Most aren’t aware of their family’s somewhat precarious financial situation. She continued using me as her priest, confessing her concerns. “I think that is why mom hasn’t been her usual happy mom. Actually, she’s been slightly off since Uncle Paul came back to town. She just seems more reserved and quiet and concerned about protecting me and Jane. And not just Mom is concerned with protecting me from something. Cheryl wouldn’t even let me talk to my uncle when he called. She said she was instructed that no one was to call for me. That we weren’t to talk to anybody or have anyone over while you were gone.”

I was happy to hear Cheryl did as she was told and protected Helen from even having to talk to her uncle. I noticed the time was well past 5 minutes, and Cheryl should have been out of the shower. I went to the water heater and turned the valve, closing the hot water and leaving nothing but a screech. Cheryl’s tirade came from the shower, as only cold water came through the shower head.

Cheryl, wrapped in a towel, stepped outside, meeting me on the front porch, saying, “Damn it, that was mean.”

I grinned, “I told you to make it short; other people need a shower.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you were going to do that,” she said, shivering a little.

“Neither did I,” was my response. “Okay, Helen, you can go on in and start your shower. I’ll turn back on the hot water.”

The bikini-covered svelte body stood up laughing at Cheryl and went into the house. Before Cheryl went to get dressed, I said, “Sit down. I’ll be back.”

Returning from turning back on the hot water, Cheryl was sitting and adjusting her towel, saying, “You know Helen isn’t around. I don’t necessarily need to keep this on.” I wasn’t sure if she was teasing to make me uncomfortable or not.

I gave her the stink eye when she started opening her towel. I said, “Behave. Don’t make me sorry I kept you out here. Especially when I have you out here to praise you for keeping Helen’s uncle at bay by not giving her the phone.”

Cheryl said, “Yeah, he was a bit of an obnoxious person. He said that if I wouldn’t let him talk to Helen on the phone. He’d come over and see her.”

“Well, I didn’t see blood spatter everywhere when I got home. So he didn’t do that,” I pointed out.

“No. I told him I’d shoot him if he came over. He laughed at me, saying a little girl like me wouldn’t know how to fire a gun. But he changed his tune. When I told him that the two hundred-grain metal jacketed .38 slugs would likely go through his head as well as it would sliced bread. Though it’d make a really big hole in the back of his skull as it left. After that, he called me a freak and hung up. I was fine with that. Helen, though, was amazed I knew so much about ammunition. We really need to teach her, not just let her go out shooting. You know, teach her how to pack bullets and such.”

With an inquisitive look, I asked, “When did you learn how to pack bullets?”

She answered, sounding confident, “Oh, I’m pretty sure I could do it. I’ve seen you do it enough.”

“Good to know,” I told her. “I guess that can be one of your other jobs from here on out. Or at least before we go shooting.”

She asked a strange question, “Why do you carry that funny-looking gun when you don’t rep them? Actually, I’d never even heard of Glock until yours. Never seen them sold anywhere before.”

“It’s one of those times when you drive a Chevy but you work for Ford. Because the Camaro is just better than the Mustang,” I explained. I left off that the Glock was an experimental handgun. That I was testing its effectiveness in real-world situations.

Cheryl nodded her understanding. She and I sat, continuing to have a pleasant conversation about the other stuff they did while I was away. She never once asked why I had taken off on such short notice. Or thought it was funny Helen’s mom had decided to take a trip at the same time. Leaving her and Helen to their own devices

“I’m glad you two were responsible while both me and Mrs. Fields were gone. It’s nice to know if in the future I have to be gone and Mrs. Fields isn’t available. I don’t have to be concerned you and Helen will have wild parties or get into trouble.” I said hearing the floor creak.

Helen had learned from Cheryl’s mistake and cut her shower short. Like Cheryl, Helen came out to the front porch in just a towel. She was not nearly as unabashed as Cheryl coming out to the porch. She meekly said, “The shower is now free.” She reminded me of her mom the previous weekend stepping into the hotel room after being my sex toy for over 12 hours.

I bet the body under her towel held as much if not more pleasure than her mom’s had.

Trying to forget my prior thought, I told them to go get dressed for the evening. They scampered inside with me following. The turn to Cheryl’s room wasn’t taken, but they went to my closet. They pulled out two sweatshirts that were even large on me and quickly ran off. I called Cheryl back, saying, “Remember, you two aren’t allowed alone with each other.”