Splashing the Water

Continued from: The Deep End

**Caution: this story involves taboo, family dynamics**

As the doors swung shut behind them, the bright expanse of the living room seemed to close in, amplifying the sense of trepidation that gripped the brothers. Before them, Bella and Cassandra orchestrated a deliberate, choreographed sequence, positioning two straight-backed chairs in the center of the room with eerie silence. 

The atmosphere was brimming with female authority as the women seated themselves knee-to knee, their laps forming a sturdy, unyielding base. The command came from Aunt Bella, low and unmistakable: "Remove your trunks." 

Connor and Marcus hesitated, their minds recoiling from the implications, but ultimately succumbing to the strict disciplinarians who now governed this space. With faltering hands, they shed their last vestiges of modesty, exposing themselves to the pitiless scrutiny of their aunt and cousin.  

Naked, vulnerable, and utterly at the mercy of these two, as their genitals hung limp and helpless. Cassandra and Bella both gave a pat to their laps, and as if drawn by unseen forces, the brothers gravitated towards the dominant sides of the waiting women and draped themselves over their knees. 

As the women's palms descended in synchronized rhythm, a flurry of crisp smacks peppered the brothers' naked bottoms, each strike a precise calibration of force and timing. But this was merely just the prologue, a warm-up spanking to ready the area for the main event. 

With calculated deliberation, Bella and Cassandra rubbed the sting away from their palms and reached for the wooden hairbrushes that had been lying in wait. The brushes were dense, heavy and would soon be transformed into a heavy paddle, dispensing a severity that would leave the boys sobbing. 

As the brush strokes began to rain down, a shared sob burst forth from Connor and Marcus, their masculine pride crumbling beneath the shame of crying like little girls. The tears flowed freely now, unrestrained by any pretense of bravado. 

When the spankings ended, Connor was dispatched to the corner of the room, head bowed and hands clasps behind his head. Meanwhile, Marcus was sent outside to retrieve the object of his earlier transgression - Cassandra's tantalizing panties. He traversed the distance to the pool house completely nude, sporting a very red bottom. Once he secured Cassandra's underwear, he scurried back to the privacy of the main home and into a powder room where he was previously instructed to report. 

With deliberate slowness, Bella's hand extended, beckoning Marcus closer. The panties, still clutched in his trembling fingers, were gently coaxed by toward his nose. "Sniff deeply, dear boy." Bella murmured, her tone husky and sexual. 

His nostrils were awoken with the musky scent of Cassandra's arousal, his erect penis now twitching in Pavlovian response. Bella grabbed his wrist, directing his hand toward his cock. "Stroke yourself, Marcus. Show me how much you crave your cousin." Her grip tightened around his wrist, forcing his fingers to close around his shaft. 

After several deep inhales to the gusset of Cassandra's panties, the humiliating prop was set aside as Marcus began to vigorously masturbate under Bella's strict guidance. 

The toilet bowl yawned open before him, the water a cruel mirror reflecting his debasement. With each downward stroke, she coached him, her language filthy and graphic. "Feel your spunk building for Auntie, boy. Imagine Cassandra's juicy pussy, soaking through her little panties." 

Marcus' hips bucked erratically as he obeyed, lost in the vortex of depraved fantasy. Just as he teetered on the precipice of orgasm, Bella leaned in to grab his cock and aim it at the water . "Now, Marcus. Cum for Auntie. Fill that toilet with your shameful load." 

The evidence of his humiliation splashed into the water in thick ropes. Bella's hand instinctively reached for the toilet handle, flushing the mess into porcelain void. The swift motion was almost merciful, sparing him the agony of beholding his own ejaculate. 

No sooner had the echoes of the flush faded than Cassandra materialized in the doorway. Dangling from her elegant fingers, like an ornament of humiliation, was a sleek male chastity device - a cold, unforgiving testament to Marcus' current predicament. 

Once he was locked away, he was escorted by Cassandra back to the living room. As the game of musical chairs unfolded, Connor's crimson posterior was ushered out of the timeout corner, his naked form replaced by Marcus, who adopted a similar stance of abject submission. 

Cassandra escorted Connor into the bathroom where Aunt Bella awaited. The coveted panties, dangled once more in Bella's grasp. 

"Imagine the way her sweet pussy would feel, squeezing that cock of yours." Bella's coaching echoed through the small space as Connor buried his nose into the crotch of Cassandra's panties. His strokes gained urgency as he finally succumbed to the intoxicating blend of shame and arousal. 

After Connor experienced the indignity of cumming into the toilet like a common animal, Cassandra, right on queue, appeared with a second chastity cage. 

As the last vestiges of daylight surrendered to the evening's gentle hush, the two boys stood in silence, facing the corner for the next hour. Reddened skin glowed like embers on their bare bottoms, a poignant reminder of their behaviour. 

Cassandra and Bella were quite pleased with each other. 

Chastity cages, metal and inescapable, imprisoned their desires, rendering them impotent against the sensual presence of the two Goth women. One hour would pass in slow, agonizing increments, leaving Marcus and Connor plenty of time to think what fresh indignities and punishments await them. After all, they were staying at Auntie's for a week!

Mistress Andrea

xoxo 

Continued in: A Rose by any other Name