Chapter 3

“You thought you could get one over on me? That I was a softie? Do you think I was born yesterday? I know every trick in the book. You think my sister hasn’t tried buttering me up to get out of being made to count?” I asked. I was lying, of course. I realized that I probably shouldn’t embellish too much about Janis since it’s possible they’d meet my older sister as well.

If she hadn’t been busy, my sister Janis may have been the one sent here to babysit tonight. I didn’t want to lay things on too thick. However, I was livid with the girls. I had naively walked into this scenario planning to be a diligent babysitter, and my Aunt warned me that her girls were going to tease and tempt me.

My cousins were bent over, face forward, asses up and exposed. They had been sliding down toward the ground so that they were almost kneeling at this point, waiting to be spanked bare-ass in their mother’s bedroom.

I was still trying to get my head around how I got into this situation. I had intended to be a good babysitter, but almost immediately, I had been tempted to play naughty games with the girls. I chalked up falling for the temptation as a mistake on my part. I wouldn’t fall for it again. These girls were good at teasing, and the playful flirtation they did at first was obviously a test – one that I had failed.

In order to make it up, I wasn’t going to be cruel or sadistic. I wasn’t going to be vindictive. However, I was going to be strict and hold these two little twats accountable. At first, they seemed delighted to dance around naked in front of me and even eager to be slapped on the butt. They didn’t look that way any longer as they stared straight ahead, pussies dripping and legs quivering.

The strange thing was, they didn’t fight it. Archie didn’t question it either. They acted like this was just how things were supposed to go, like getting their bare asses spanked was the obvious consequence for being little shits. I’d heard of corporal punishment, sure—knew some families believed in keeping their girls in line the old-fashioned way. I’ve also known there are some girls out there who are total sluts, and I’d imagine that without some discipline, they’d walk all over their mom and probably end up as teen mothers.

I’d also heard that many people believed girls didn’t need modesty. I’ve seen mothers take down their daughter’s skirts and spank them in department stores when they throw tantrums and act spoiled. However, usually, they weren’t as cute or as vivacious as my cousins. I

Still, the way they were all acting, it felt ... normal. And if they weren’t questioning my authority, why should I? I leaned into my common sense on how to project confidence in this situation – despite being uncertain of myself.

“Girls normally have to do something to show they are paying attention, and counting is the least you could do. Would you rather count, Veronica? That IS the rule, after all, of course, then we’d start over at zero, and we’d start over each time you lose count, and you’ll definitely have to tell your Mummy all about Aethelbert and how you were caught fucking him on her bed. Your decision. Which would you rather?”

Veronica coughed slightly as I slid the dildo from her mouth, a thin string of spit connecting her lips to the toy before it snapped. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand after I took the dildo out. I had no idea how far I must have pushed it into her throat. My cousin’s eyes were a little watery, and she looked itchy. “No, Mr. Dalton,” she said, her voice steady but edged with frustration. “If it’s fair for me, though, it’s fair for Betty to have to do this too?”

Betty frowned; “How’s that fair? I wasn’t the one having a go on the purple pussy-eater—you were.”

I held the dildo up to Betty’s nose, so she had to sniff it, glancing between the two of them. “Fair’s fair, Betty. You were the one who led me here, knowing exactly what Veronica was up to. You’ve both been playing the same game—you just didn’t get caught with a toy in your hand.” I paused, letting the silence stretch just enough to make them squirm. “Now, before I put the dildo back down your throat so we can get on with your spanking before dinner, do either of you have anything to say?”

“Yes, I’ve really got to use the loo, I’ve been holding it for a bit, Mr. Dalton, may I be excused momentarily,” Betty asked with the apologetic grace of an innocent angel. “It seems you’ll be here with my sister for a bit. If it’s 48 more swats, at one a minute, that’s well past teatime.”

I had no idea when teatime was, or if it was just a figure of speech. I was going to grant her a bathroom reprieve. I wasn’t heartless, and I had no reason to doubt her, and we didn’t need her for this.

“Not bloody likely, Betty. You’re staying put,” Archie insisted. If you even have to go pee, the second you’re out the door, you’ll go give yourself a wank, while you listen to the delightful sound of Veronica’s ass getting tanned. You’re not weaseling out of this one.”

“You can double my swats if I’m not back in five minutes, promise, Arch!” Betty promised, her voice soft and sincere like she genuinely meant to follow through.

“How does it work when your mom gives you spankings? Are you allowed to take a break?” I asked.

“For crying out loud,” Veronica said. “Betty, do you want to make a proper cup of tea and have some cucumber sandwiches, perhaps while you are at it? Mum would never let you be dismissed during punishment; the same reason she would expect Arch to watch the entire ordeal so he knows what happens when you act like a proper little tart or a dodgy git. Every minute you spend arguing with Mr. Dalton is another I’ve got to spend with my legs spread halfway from here to Newcastle. I’ve got to take a proper pooh! so can we just crack on with the paddling?”

Archie laughed and warned me “Don’t spank my sister’s arse TOO hard, Mr. Dalton, or she’ll get peanut butter all over your mum’s paddle! Then again, Veronica could do with having the crap spanked out of her!”

“Harr, harr, Arch! Laugh it up! I know what I did was naughty, and I’ll take my medicine,” Veronica glowered before opening her mouth wide, inviting me to put her mother’s purple dildo back in her mouth. She fully accepted that she was going to have her ass spanked raw, and she was going to do it with the dildo she had just fucked herself with.

There was something so raw and naughty about a girl who knew she was dirty and accepted she’d be punished for it. I got the impression early on that the girls got some thrill out of the light spankings they received, but the look on Veronica’s face was different. It was eyebrows arched angrily, and a look of gritty determination that she knew she was in for a paddling and had to endure it.

She didn’t argue, she didn’t negotiate, she didn’t deny what she did. She accepted it, without the eager, playful devil-may care attitude they had at first.

It was obvious to me that the girls got punished frequently enough, that Archie watching them get disciplined was out of the question. It seemed like the teasing adding to the humiliation only enhanced the punishment, and I quite liked that.

“It’s not Arch, and it’s not Archie, not while he is my Assistant Babysitter,” I explained as I worked that purple dildo as far into my cousin’s mouth as I could. I decided that he should have a title just like me. “It’s MISTER Archie.”

The girls had organically dropped to the knees during the spanking, and now their knees were getting rug burn from the carpet.

Veronica’s eyes flared for a second, but her mouth was too full to argue. She let out a muffled sound, maybe a protest, maybe not – she may have just been trying to suck down some air.

“Oh, bollocks, now you are just taking the piss. I’ll call you Mr. Dalton because you are my older cousin, but I don’t have to call my little brother Mister Archie!” she insisted.

“Your mom made it succinctly clear before she left—do what I say, when I say it, no fuss, no backchat.” I let that hang in the air for a moment, watching her face tighten. “And that includes calling Archie Mister Archie while he’s the assistant babysitter. You’ve got to accept that YOU are the BABY being SAT and not the baby SITTER.”{br}

I thought that was a particularly clever observation, if I do say so myself.

I was shocked at how easily that stopped my cousin from continuing her bickering. I took my time handing off the paddle and counted three swats. Veronica didn’t flinch until I added that there were forty-seven more swats to go.

The girls had started bent over, holding their ankles. I had taken so long with my spanking that they seemed to have melted into more of a kneeling position. Their butts were still up. Legs were still apart, but they had both drifted away from the rigid position they began in.

I forced them to bend over at the waist and grab their ankles before I allowed him to continue, wide stance, holding their ankles – side by side. The girls complied without complaint. They even seemed to expect to be adjusted this way. I didn’t physically touch them with my hands, but I got the impression they wouldn’t have minded it at all.

“I am not sure if there is more spit hanging from Veronica’s lover or from her pussy,” I remarked to Archie how the long strands of spit seemed to come out of either hole on his pretty sister.

“In the UK, we call that squirty little hole between their legs a quim, cunnie, twat, or a cunt,” Archie replied casually. I noticed that Veronica and Betty both blushed when he said that, and it took effort for both of them not to say something snarky back.

He stepped up behind Veronica’s round little arse. He gripped the paddle like he was about to take a swing in some posh sport, then gently nudged her butt up with his fingers to line up the shot.

Veronica’s eyes flicked nervously over her shoulder, but I cut her off before she could say anything. “Look straight ahead,” I ordered.

Archie crouched slightly, holding the paddle low by his side like he was setting up for a shot—or maybe just getting a better look at his sister’s dripping pussy. I wasn’t exactly an expert on spanking, but I figured it should land flat across the width of her ass cheeks.

I started to second-guess my decision to make Archie the assistant babysitter when it looked like he was about to swing up from the floor. As he brought the paddle upwards, sharp and fast, he muttered under his breath, “Going for a six.”

The paddle cracked hard against Veronica’s pussy, knocking her forward with a sharp gasp, her hands scrambling to steady herself on the floor. The impact sent a ripple through her, her eyes flaring with alarm, and the muffled sound around the dildo in her mouth told me she wasn’t ready for the sting of that angle.

“Fucking hell, you walloped me right in the cunnie!” Veronica spat the dildo out of her mouth, a string of spit trailing from her chin as she glared over her shoulder. “Stop playing bloody cricket with my fanny, Mr. Archie!”

“Wait, I thought a fanny was a butt. Where did he hit you, the cunnie or the fanny?” I asked, genuinely confused.

Veronica shot me an exasperated look, wiping the spit off her chin. “In the UK, fanny means cunt, arse means butt. And he bloody well got me square in the cunnie!”

I loved how vulgar the language was in Brittain, but it was also a bit confusing.

“Your mom said it had to sting when girls get spanked. Are you any worse for the wear? You probably won’t sneak off and play with yourself again now that you have to start all over because you took her lover out of your mouth.”

Veronica’s lips pressed into a thin line as the realization hit her. She glanced at me, then at Archie, and I could see the flicker of regret behind her eyes—not panic, but enough to know she’d just made things harder for herself.

“No, Mr. Dalton,” she said, steady but quieter this time. “I’m not worse for wear.” She paused, shifting slightly on her sore knees. “But I didn’t think that’d mean starting over. That was my mistake.” She sucked in a breath, her eyes darting down for a second before she met my gaze again. “I’ve had spankings like that before—but not from sitters. And not fifty of them.” There was no whining in her tone, but they were far from the giggly, enthusiastic teases they were when I first met the two of them.

I ran my hand over the paddle, feeling its weight while considering my options. Veronica might be trying to manipulate me. I was so horny that I would probably fall for it. She might genuinely be repentant but after five swats? That was half of what her regular sitters gave her, and her mom said she usually got spanked twice a night when they were over.

I could imagine what it would feel like to be spanked on the ass and then suddenly get one in the balls. I could easily tell her it had to sting, but at the same time, I felt sorry for the girl.

Veronica reached down between her legs and rubbed her sore pussy. I didn’t stop her because I could understand it, and both girls took a stretch.

“Stop your whinging, Veronica,” Archie muttered, adjusting his grip on the paddle. “Mum’s spanked you on the twat when you’ve been naughty, and I am sure she knows how to swing it much harder than I do. If you didn’t want a sting in your cunnie, you should’ve thought twice before shoveling Mum’s purple dildo in your gaping hole!”

“I didn’t know it would get me in this grand pile of sheep shit; I’ve got to call my brother Mister Archie and offer up my ass and cunnie like I am a walking wicket stump for batting practice. I should have just sucked off the babysitter when he dared me to, and he’d be taking a nap now. It was Betty’s brilliant idea to tease him and keep him horny all night.”

“Why did you go on and tell him that you, barmy cow?” Betty was flustered. She apologized to me profusely. “We really weren’t trying to give you blue balls. We haven’t had a cute male sitter before, and we like to tease guys.”

“You lying gobs,” Archie frowned and threw his hands up in the air. “It’s a little game the two sluts like to play. They invite over neighbor fellas when Mum isn’t about and ask him if he wants to play truth or dare.”

“ARCHIE!” Veronica and Betty shouted in unison, but it was too late. Archie was already spilling their secret.

They’ve been playing the blue ball game since they were in Surrey,” Archie continued, his tone sharp. “Doesn’t matter if he’s some cute bloke or an old drunk. First thing they do is strip off completely and get him to play truth or dare. And the first thing the poor sod wants is to take them from behind or get a bit of head.”

I noticed my cousins tight-lipped and angry, but they didn’t interrupt. They were being ratted out, and there was nothing they could do about it. I folded my arms and listened intently.

“Whoever doesn’t get picked for the dare always pretends it’s unfair,” Archie sneered. “They go on about how the bloke’ll be one shot and done, lose interest after he cums. But both of them act like they want a little taste of his knob. My sisters act like they want their naughty games to last all night, saying he’s not allowed to cum till the very end. The punter usually gets cold feet and legs it. Some blokes think that they can take on both of them. My sisters will pretend they’d love nothing more than to cozy up and make out with some old geezer, but they make the excuse that he’ll shoot his load and ruin all their fun.”

The girls frowned and grumbled, looking down at the rug.

“My dirty sisters keep egging the fellas on, teasing about how they don’t want him jizzing too early. They play their dirty little dare games all night, and then—what do you know? Mum comes home, and it’s out the back window with the punter before she finds out. Happens every time.”

“She’s caught a few of the fellas leaving through the back door as well,” Veronica admitted soberly. She looked at me without any excuse for a reaction. There wasn’t much the girls could say to defend themselves. My cousins obviously weren’t very proud of themselves now that their brother had told me I was just another player in their teasing games.

“It wasn’t personal, Mr. Dalton. We just thought you’d be like the rest of the punters,” Veronica offered apologetically.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t be upset that I was just the next contestant on The Bitch Is Right, what is your next bid on these two little teases!” I quipped angrily.

“You are right to be upset with us, and I am not trying to make excuses, Mr. Dalton,” Betty said as if she was definitely offering an excuse. “When you asked for a blowjob right off, instinct kicked in. Most guys first dare is for one of us to gobble their knob or go straight away to shagging. They usually last two, maybe three minutes tops. Then it’s done.”

“Then why tell them they can dare you to do anything if you won’t do whatever they want?” I was confused.

“Cheeky little whores, the both of ‘em. They’ve been pulling this shit since we were in Surrey,” Archie commiserated with me. He clearly had no sympathy for the girls.

“I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense, and we aren’t going to pretend we are the brightest bulbs. We always say it can be any dare, and they always say it’s going to be head or fucking, one or the other,” Veronica added.

I noticed that Betty’s legs were shaking restlessly, like she wanted to stand up and run out of the room. Veronica twitched nervously as well.

“If we give them what they want right away, they’ll get tired of us straight off when they realize we aren’t much fun to talk to about anything outside of dirty stuff. We’ve no real interests in sports, or arts, or books, and we can’t really pretend because we aren’t exactly the brightest bulbs.” Betty explained in a self-deprecating but honest manner. She added “When they can’t get their cock up again, they’ve no use for chatty little sluts that are basically just life support for two boobs, a twat, and a pooh hole.”

“They’ll either bore of us, or when we start whinging and bickering with each other, they’ll realize our shit doesn’t smell like roses and high tail it,” Veronica added. “Speaking of pooh holes, and stinky shit, I’ve really got to go to the loo, Mister Arnold, can I be excused?”

“If you hadn’t spit your mom’s dildo out of your mouth, you would still be getting spanked right now,” I reminded my cousin that she’d still be getting punished. “You’ve also proven to be an incredible liar, so I never know if you are truthful and really have to go.”

Veronica reiterated her need to use the bathroom, stamping her feet but pleading politely. I wasn’t sure if they usually asked the sitter if they could use the bathroom or this was because they were being punished.

I let the silence stretch, watching the flicker of discomfort in her eyes. “Since you’re such a desperate little slut, fine. You can go.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” she kissed me on the cheek and started to dash off like a squirrel after a nut. The family only has one bathroom in the small rental house.

Betty piped up, squirming on the spot, doing this little pee-pee dance—a sort of anxious scoot on her knees like she was five again. “Wait—Mr. Dalton—I’ve really got to go too. Please!” She was practically bouncing in place now, her legs shaking. The cute blonde held her tummy and danced about while Archie chuckled.

The girls started bickering immediately about who had the greater need and who could be done faster.

“I’ve got to go more!” Betty hissed.

“Bugger off, I asked first!” Veronica snapped back, “Mr. Dalton already said I could,” she said. The two of them walked toward the bathroom.

I shook my head, laughing. “I can see what you mean about scaring off a sitter, rather than listen to the two of you complain and bicker.”

“In the U.K. we call it whinging,” Archie nudged me and added with a wink “these two bitches have turned whinging into an art form!”

Betty’s face twisted in frustration, doing an exaggerated dance now, scooting on her knees like a kid about to wet herself. I watched her squirm for a few more seconds before shaking my head.

“The door stays open, ladies!” I insisted.

“Are you two going to just stand outside the door and listen to me cut air biscuits?” Veronica hustled over to the toilet, not looking backward to see if we were actually watching her or just standing outside the bathroom.

“Your mom told me you aren’t allowed to shut doors in the house, because she knows you’ll be in there fingerbanging your twats and playing with your tits,” I said. I didn’t look in the bathroom. I felt there were some lines I shouldn’t cross.

Archie wasn’t listening. He was egging his sister Betty on about “dancing the pee-pee dance,” and laughing as she frantically tried to keep moving to avoid pissing herself.

“That applies for our room, not when we are on the bog, you don’t want to watch us squeeze cheese do you?” I could hear Veronica scrunching her nose in disgust by how she asked it.

I didn’t answer the question. Instead, I asked Betty slowly “Ask me nicely if you can pee in the sink since your sister is on the bog,” I laughed about how silly the word bog sounded.

“Mister Arnold, may I please pee in the sink?” my cousin begged sweetly. I could see the desperation in her eyes. I gave her credit, if she was willing to humiliate herself by begging to pee in the sink, she must really need to go.

I was about to give her permission when Archie insisted on hearing her ask again but say “pretty, pretty please with cherries and squirty cream on top.”

Betty groaned, shifting on her feet, but she didn’t argue. “Pretty, pretty please, with cherries and squirty cream on top,” she muttered, her cheeks turning red. I have to admit that I might have felt guilty if I hadn’t felt like a guinea pig in the latest round of Family Fuck Around and Find Out Feud while the girls tested and teased me only to find me just like every other guy that wants a blowjob.

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Veronica huffed from in the bathroom. “We don’t have to normally ask permission of the sitter to use the toilet. We just did because we were in the middle of getting a spanking. Usually, those are ten quick swats or a time out in the corner. Just go pee, Betty!”

Betty froze, glancing between me and her sister, her face flushed with frustration. She was going to erupt. She clearly needed to hear me give her permission, or she may have stood there until she exploded on the carpet in the hallway.

“Fine, you can turn the faucet on your piss-flaps and let loose, sis,” Archie joked. I had to admit, I liked my cousin’s sense of humor. His language was just as colorful as his mother’s.

Betty dashed into the bathroom, and a second later, I heard the sound of trickling piss. “Sounds like Rice Krispies pop-crackling with the milk,” I observed with a snicker.

Betty burst into hysterical laughter, and then I heard her cuss. “I laughed so hard that I nearly fell into the bloody sink!”

“Just be thankful we don’t make you use the sink from now on, you pissy-munter,” Archie teased.

I glanced at him, curious. “Are you like this when your mom’s home? You were acting totally different when I first arrived.”

“I don’t usually take an active role in telling the girls what to do or managing any of their chores. This is the most I’ve spoken to them in months. Mum doesn’t ask me to discipline them, and I’ve never had any interest. They’ll do what I tell them—bring me a towel, clean up my room—but anything more than that? My sisters are a lot of drama, and they’re more hassle than they’re worth.