Originally published May 2017 as Smokey Saga #75
It’s been a good while since I published anything on Noveltrove (sorry ’bout that). So here’s a relatively recent one that didn’t really require any touching up. When the original “Art Of The Squeal” came out on its first home, the consensus was that a sequel be in order. So this one eventually crawled out of the woodwork. One reason it’s been a while on NT was that I just couldn’t seem to produce a desirable new image for this story. So I’m going to use the same one I used for its predecessor. Enjoy!
Home Away From Hell
Thursday, April 28th, 2016, 11:06 a.m.
Dawn, yet once more, had dawned. While still chilly here in the North Star State, each passing spring day grew lovelier—if a bit rainy here and there. Inside the stately Quibley manor now resided a 29-year-old strawberry blonde named Noelle Beckman, who in the past half-week had become one of the happiest young women on the kisser of planet Earth.
She slept in late and awoke for the fifth time, in her own immense room and correspondingly huge bed, laid with golden satiny sheets and pillows. She was stretched out on her belly in equally soft silk pajamas. It was all courtesy of her adopted “Aunt” Sylvia, who gave her the space and encouraged her to make it all her own. Sylvie would argue she was just as elated to have the girl in her home, if not more. While it had just been a couple days, Noelle thus far made Sylvia a great companion and playmate, someone with whom to have tons of fun together. She detected a knock on her door.
“Sweetie?” came the familiar voice.
Noelle smiled, keeping her peepers shut. “Mornin’, Aunt Sylvie.”
She heard Aunt Sylvia silently shut the door, shuffle in and over, and pet her mussed-up mane.
“How’d you sleep?”
“Mmm…” Noelle stretched out, rolling over on her back. “Fifth best night’s sleep of my life. I fuckin’ love it here so goddamn much.”
Sylvia’s heart swelled with pride and glee. Noelle’s guttery words aside, hearing her say such things made Sylvie so very happy. Now that she’d uprooted Noelle from that undesirable profession of hers—be it though the literal avenue that brought the two of them together—the girl’s demeanor had become only more and more delightful. As if while being a hooker, she had to maintain an air of acidity, toughness, and biting hostility. To avoid being taken advantage of or losing respect. Well, Sylvia hoped and believed Noelle knew that under her roof, she was treated with fondness and devotion. Noelle Beckman was her unofficially adopted niece now.
“Aw, babe…” Sylvia grinned. “You dunno how glad it makes me to hear that!”
She slipped her hand beneath Noelle’s jammie shirt and gave her a light raking tickle on the belly. Noelle chortled, wriggling on the mattress and reaching up to tickle her back. Before either of them knew it, Sylvia had climbed in with her and they were giggling like a couple of kids. When Noelle tired her out for the moment, Aunt Sylvie flopped over beside.
“Ah…” She kissed Noelle’s cheek and forehead. “No kidding, sweetie, I know it’s only been five days, but I love having you here too.”
They exchanged more honeyed pleasantries before letting calmness settle. Sylvie kissed her fingertip and ran it down Noelle’s nose.
“I know we gals aren’t supposed to like it when we hear this,” Aunt Sylvia said, “But that face really is so beautiful with a smile on it.”
“Aw…well, I could tell you wanted to make me laugh ever since you picked me up that night, the way, ever since, you’ve been telling me jokes and tickling me nonstop.”
Sylvie shrugged. “What can I say, I’m a big ol’ fun-lover. Speaking of which…”
She grinned, flipping her eyebrows at her.
“…Feel like a happy beginning, niecey?”
Noelle blushed, almost bursting out laughing. She knew what Aunt Sylvie meant by this. She was asking if she wished to start her day with a great orgasm, courtesy of Aunt Sylvie herself. She’d first sprung this proposition out of the blue on Monday. It was the second time they’d be intimate together. The idea was that Aunt Sylvia would give her a massage, led into by a wonderful climax (as opposed to culminating in a happy ending). Or they could just make her cum, skip the massage altogether, and go on to their next activity. And indeed, quite frankly, cushioned into a much less stressful life—to say nothing of practically sleeping on a cloud every night—Noelle didn’t really feel she needed the rubdown. She was really enjoying just hanging with Aunt Sylvie, watching TV, playing games, meeting and being waited on by the staff. Her new guardian angel hadn’t been kidding about the level of pampering she’d receive.
So Noelle rolled over, pulled open a bedside drawer, removed her swan-shaped viber, and handed it over. She then laid back nice and comfy, rested her head in the pillows, drew the cover to her chin, pulled the other end up to her waist, and slid her p.j. bottoms down. She left her white panties on for the time being, snaked her hands back under the blanket, and folded them on her tummy. Eyes closed, lips smiling, she let Aunt Sylvie begin.
She warmed Noelle up by smoothing and pressing her digits softly into her inner thigh. Just as with a paintbrush in them, the mature lady’s 47-year-old paws knew what they were doing. And just as on Monday, Noelle delighted in the sensation of auntie’s soft, warm hands kneading her supple flesh. The past several days had also made her question her sexuality. Indeed, up to and including that fateful Saturday night when Sylvia Quibley came to her streetcorner, Noelle had believed she was a hundred percent straight. But what happened later that night forced her to reassess.
A woman had sent her through a mind-melting, red-hot motherfucker of an orgasm…with no one else in the room. No gentlemen were present. It was complete and total girl-on-girl action, Noelle’s first bona fide lesbian experience. And truly, it intrigued her. It had been on her mind a lot the past half-week. She’d never so much as considered being with a woman before, because…she supposed, the opportunity was never presented—or more accurately, thrust—before this point. It just went to show, at the brink of her 30s, she was still discovering herself, and the facets of her true nature. All she knew was that feeling Aunt Sylvie pleasure her pussy felt amazing.
Sylvia shifted position beside Noelle’s thigh, licked her fingers, and softly rubbed between said thigh and pussy, just beneath the edge of the panties. She heard Noelle let out a first gasp. She slipped her other hand’s fingers under the top of the fabric and fondled at the anterior, mildly stimulating the clit through its hood. Dominant hand under the panties, Sylvia aligned her middle finger with Noelle’s dampening slit, her ring and index with the labia. She applied pressure, urging Noelle to slide her head further back and begin moaning. With the left paw, she tugged down Noelle’s panties side by side. Then she made an announcement.
“Now do let’s play a little game, what say,” she said. “Aunt Sylvie says…tweak your nipples.”
Noelle smiled, reaching up from her belly to obey. Sylvia nodded.
“Very good,” she praised, rubbing her cunt. “Aunt Sylvie says touch your nose.”
Her niece again followed the direction, as Sylvia got her undies all the way down. Her left hand’s next task was to pick up the vibrator and position digits for the first setting. She nodded back to Noelle again.
“Good. Tug your earlobe.”
Noelle tugged her earlobe.
“Ah—! Aunt Sylvie didn’t sa-aaaaay!” she chided, wagging a finger.
“Aunt Sylvie’ll have to forgive niece Noelle if her faculties’re a little fucking compro-miiiiised!”
“Fair enough. Aunt Sylvie says twirl your hair.”
Noelle did as told. Her pussy moistened on Sylvia’s fingertips. Sylvia rubbed deeper. Noelle groaned.
“Good girl. Kiss your hand.”
Her bebanged playmate reflexively began to obey, but caught herself.
“Verrrrry good…” she heard Aunt Sylvie purr, activating the vibrator. “Very, very good. Now listen carefully.”
Sylvia spread her open, and made contact with the toy.
“Aunt Sylvie says…
“Say, ‘I want you to suck my clitty, Aunt Sylvie.’”
Noelle’s libido went insane. Her aunt’s words and tone doubled the vibrator’s effect. A wild surge of pleasure tore her inside and out.
“I want you to suck my clitty, Aunt Sylvie!” she cried breathlessly.
Sylvia grinned, reaffirming her grasp on Noelle’s inner cunt lips. She culled them ajar once more until she could see Noelle’s stiffening clit peek out. She began to feel her own special zones twitching awake.
“’Atta girl. Here we go now; Aunt Sylvie says keep playing with your boobies…lie back…and let auntie handle the rest.”
Noelle did believe she could swing that. She returned her paws to her rising and falling tits, squeezed them, and shut her eyes.
The next several minutes took Noelle up a dozen plains before she approached the head-spinning euphoria. Sylvia rubbed the end of the vibrator up and down her wetter and wetter pussy, keeping her on its first setting until she felt Noelle was used to it. In between sucking and licking her clit, she put on her softest sensual voice and gave her some more “Aunt Sylvie says” commands, including purr like a cat, growl like a panther, and roar like a lioness. As Noelle was thinking Aunt Sylvie was quite an aficionado of the feline animal family, she felt the vibrator raised to its next setting.
Back went her head with another gasping cry. The passion began to sizzle and smoke inside her. She groped and grasped her tits. Her hands circled them repeatedly, one clockwise, one counter. Several of her sweat glands were activated, sticking her strawberry bangs sloppily to her brows. Her back arched, and her shaking feet stuck out of the ankle-pooled jammie pants, piggies curled over one another. Aunt Sylvie merrily poured on the pleasure, listening for each forthcoming sound of approval, wishing she had more hands so she could keep massaging Noelle’s thighs and palm her ass cheeks as well.
She felt the girl’s clit stiffen in her mouth, and her lips again curled into a smile, sucking harder. She heard Noelle croak out another familiar phrase, “God…fucking…” Sylvie shut her eyes fondly, remembering those two significant words the first night she’d taken the girl home, shackled her to her big leather mat, and gave her womanhood a taste of the tiny paintbrush. She didn’t want to do naughty things with the girl every day, which was why they’d skipped Sunday, and Tuesday and Wednesday as well. She didn’t want their intimacy to lose sparkle. So it was kept semi-sporadic, interspersed with activities that involved wearing clothes.
Noelle’s head burrowed further and further until it touched the headboard. She reached up and placed her palms against it, continuing to twist and writhe in throes of lust. She blazed inside and out, feeling her brain melt. Her Aunt Sylvie’s tongue technique altered between aggressive sucks and long, thorough licks ringing her doorbell. And Noelle thought she felt her flip up the vibrator to the next setting, and slip it further inside her—though that was tougher to discern by now. Her eyes rolled back, starting to see things in psychedelic technicolor. She began to want this orgasm, to the same level of desire she wanted most of them.
Sylvia carried on, slipping Noelle’s toy deeper inside all the while. She’d indeed taken it up several settings, and there was now only one left. Her niece was all but going insane, staying quiet if only to avoid drawing attention. A flattered Aunt Sylvie blushed, taking Noelle’s whisper-dulled howls as the compliments they were. She was equally pleased to look down and ascertain just how red and drenched Noelle was, the abundance of moisture all that kept her from bursting into flames.
Sylvie gently closed her teeth on her clit, making her lose it. Noelle grimaced and screamed. While thrilled with this reaction, her dear auntie couldn’t deny being a bit concerned as well. As enormous as the mansion was, a servant could still be passing by at any time. She didn’t want to stop, back off or tell Noelle to pipe down. So she decided it was time to bring the girl nigh climax and finish her off. She turned the vibrator to the maximum. Noelle spastically twitched and jerked, as if she were being electrocuted.
“OhhhhhgodFUCK!” came the next exclamation. Aunt Sylvie pushed up just a bit, straddled Noelle’s right thigh, and settled in to send her sublimely over the edge. Noelle flung tantrums and fists every which way, punishing the mattress. She flexed every muscle she could find, as she swore the bed and everything else disappeared, and stars started crashing all over her. It wouldn’t be long at all now. Her swollen, burning cunt clenched and squished on the vibrator, just about to discharge. Without even looking, Sylvia could tell her face was wordlessly crying out for release. It was time to give it to her. She held her clit in her teeth’s grip, smothered it in saliva and curled up the eponymous end of the vibrator to reach her g-spot. One poke at that fleshy ridge, and Noelle was off. Literally.
She felt the rocket light under her and blast her into oblivion. Forth spurted her cum, pelting all over Aunt Sylvie’s right paw. She looked down to see the fruits of her labor reaped, and both their days made. Noelle went on shrieking all the way to the end, until her coochie was drained, and the rainbow road to bountiful was traversed. Another trip to heaven and back, and beloved Aunt Sylvie’d once again coaxed her musty cum out. The equally beloved niecey’s shouts died down, as she settled in the afterglow, and almost fell right back to sleep. Sylvia removed the toy, performed some maintenance—feeling this cleanup job was more appropriate for her than for a maid or butler—blanketed Noelle’s bottom half, and crawled back in with her, lying beside for several wonderful moments.
“You’re welcome, sweetie,” Sylvia uttered over.
A lopsided grin crossed Noelle’s drooly lips. She reached around for a second, located Sylvia’s hand, and linked their fingers.
Have A Niece Day
Thursday, April 28th, 2016, 2:13 p.m.
The old(er) and new(er) ladies of the house had up and rinsed off, ready to find something to do today. On Sunday, Sylvie’d led her to the dining room for breakfast, finished giving her the grand tour, and sat with her in the living room for some TV and hands of cards (assuring Noelle there were no consequences for losing these). By the later afternoon, they were ready to get up and do something else. So Sylvia decided to take her out for supper. She volunteered furthermore to let Jenkins the chauffeur relax, and drive herself.
Noelle’d gotten to ride in the limo Saturday, and would certainly again. And cool as she felt the limo was, riding up front beside Aunt Sylvie in her Mercedes was pretty sweet too. Sylvia’d explained sometimes she wished to go out and be treated like any other person, so she dressed and drove relatively “normal.” She took them to the Blue Turtle, regarded by many in Juniper, Minnesota as the city’s finest restaurant. It wasn’t cheap, but money was less an object for Sylvia Quibley than most on this or any night. And Noelle’s breakfast wasn’t meager, but this dinner was her first chance to stuff her belly to max capacity and then some.
Monday morning progressed the same way Sunday had. Noelle was quick to learn that Aunt Sylvie’s chefs could whip up any breakfast they wanted, so she requested some eggs, sausage and French toast. After this equally scrumptious repast, Sylvia took her around the manor once more, this time to find each staff member and introduce Noelle. She could’ve done this yesterday, but the tour alone was its own event. And she wanted Noelle to be familiar with her new surroundings, not overwhelmed. Both agreed she’d get the lay of the land soon enough. Just an expression, of course. Sort of.
Noelle asked Monday afternoon if they could go shopping. She anticipated that now with these lavish meals and desserts, she could use some outfits in a size or two up. She frankly didn’t mind getting a little chubby. She was still cute, and considered herself well taken care of. And she needn’t impress gentlemen on the streetcorner anymore, which made her happiest of all. At the same time, Noelle didn’t really have apparel with her other than Saturday night’s hooker garb. So to the shops they went. Countless bags of new garments later, they returned home, and retired to Aunt Sylvie’s bedroom to hang out a while. Before much longer, the urge to be intimate struck again. So Noelle produced her swan vibrator for the first time, and they had some fun.
On Tuesday, they did something else they hadn’t yet gotten around to. Noelle took them to her small apartment (after stopping off at Public Storage) and they packed up and moved her belongings. This made Noelle a little nervous, but also quite excited. Thus far, she saw no reason living with Aunt Sylvie wouldn’t work out. But even if hypothetically it didn’t, she was certain they’d part on good terms, and Sylvia’d help her move back. But she hoped and believed she wouldn’t have to. She really really liked Aunt Sylvie to this point, and all evidence pointed to vice versa. Tuesday afternoon was thus spent in Noelle’s new room—which actually wasn’t that much smaller than her entire apartment—unpacking and decorating.
Now this started to look like home. After this miniature adventure, Noelle felt like a nap, which turned into a hell of a full night’s sleep. Wednesday was the first entire day they spent at home. She tagged at Sylvie’s side as today auntie tended to the servants, and their desired schedules. Noelle was presented with another example of Sylvia’s extraordinary generosity, as she handed out paid days off left and right. One young man coincidentally wanted to help his girlfriend move. Boom, Aunt Sylvie agreed without hesitation: paid day off. A maid wanted to make a doctor’s appointment and take care of some family obligations. Paid day off. More personal errands, vacations, miscellany…paid day off, paid day off, paid day off. The next thing Sylvie had to do was step into her office, open her employee database and put in all the requested time.
Hm, Noelle noted. So Aunt Sylvie in fact had her own bit of work to do. It was true, Sylvia told her. She was the very very last surviving Quibley of the entire brood. And this task was the only thing no one else could perform. Watching the effortless contentment with which Sylvie scheduled everyone’s time off awoke something new in Noelle. All together, Sylvia was giving away months of paid time off…every month. Noelle knew she had a ton of servants, and that she mustn’t underestimate her incredible wealth. And with that in mind…she developed a wonderful affection for Aunt Sylvie. She’d never met someone so giving, so charitable, so super-cool. The silver-maned lady was truly amazing. Noelle found herself wondering how Aunt Sylvia would awe her next.
She found out the very same day. Wednesday evening was particularly lovely, so Sylvie took her and the staff out to the congruently giant back patio for a tea party. An actual, legit tea party. With cups and kettles, scones and crumpets. Like Noelle and other girls used to have with dolls and stuffed animals. The staff, while mayhaps a little on the “stiff” side, catered to whatever Noelle liked, and regarded her as the princess she now essentially was. And even as it got dark, she could see everyone and everything in clear view with the lighted grounds and fountains. She was truly enchanted. She officially loved it here. It hadn’t even been a full week, and Noelle already couldn’t imagine living without Aunt Sylvie.
She went to bed Wednesday night walking on rich air. She put herself to sleep full of decaffeinated tea and biscuits, wondering what blessings Thursday might have in store. She awoke to the first, as Aunt Sylvie greeted her with her happy beginning. When her dear auntie asked what she wanted to do today, Noelle thought a moment, and suggested they visit the mall. Were it possible to ever break Aunt Sylvie’s bank—it wasn’t—Noelle wouldn’t want to hit the mall just to take advantage. But Sylvia’d already told her it was a privilege and a delight to be able to buy her things, and just to take care of her in general. So Noelle thought she may as well enjoy it.
They drove up into Bloomington to conquer the Mall of America. A first couple hundred bucks later, the dames had bags in their hands containing more new threads, shoes, books and toys, including A Workshop-Built Bear. Noelle felt like a kid again. She wanted to hold Aunt Sylvie’s paw and skip beside her. They chatted up a few kioskists and store workers, and Noelle was greatly charmed at the casual way Sylvia referred to them as aunt and niece. Without even mentioning the word “adopted.” As if related by blood. Her old life before Saturday began to feel like a surreal dream. This December, she’d hit her big 3-0. She could hardly wait. It would feel like a do-over. A clean slate. A fresh future. Her heart accelerated thinking about it all, as they entered the food court.
“So what’cha think, sweetie?” Sylvia asked her. “What looks good for lunch?”
“I think I’m gonna have to go with a BK Whopper.”
“Regal choice,” winked Sylvia. “The King it is.”
Several minutes and two trays of fast food later, the debonair duo chose a table. They gabbed and giggled in and around bites. It bore repeating just how elated Noelle was to spend every moment she could at this point with Aunt Sylvie. The old dame might’ve had to break out the green to sway her that first night, but now that they were getting to know each other, Noelle was finding out all sorts of interesting and charming things about her. She’d done a lot of traveling, dabbled in many varied hobbies—not the least of which was in fact painting—accumulated a vast wealth of knowledge, and fortunately retained most of it. And she greatly valued Noelle’s company in her life as well, Sylvia told her, taking the girl’s hand to give it a kiss.
Noelle snickered and again turned attention to her Whopper and fries. When she idly looked back up, something else caught her eye. Someone else, as a matter of fact…a few yards behind Aunt Sylvie’s left shoulder.
“Anyway, babe,” Sylvia was saying, “My birthday’s June 10th. So I hope it goes without saying I’d like you to do something with me. We could take a trip. Tell me, what city have you always wanted to see? I know there’s gotta be one.”
Noelle’s eyes widened at the figure she saw over Aunt Sylvie’s shoulder. She almost promptly dropped and shielded her face.
“Oh my god.”
While these words seemed appropriate, the tone and body language weren’t quite to Sylvia’s expectations. She furrowed her brows.
“I thought the idea of traveling somewhere’d at least get a smile outta ya.”
Keeping her face concealed, Noelle turned up to address her.
“No, um…I-I mean, uh…”
She gestured with a cock of the head.
“…That-that guy over there. Brown hair, green t-shirt, jeans. Don’t be obvious.”
Sylvie slowly and discreetly shifted around to look, and observed.
“Okay,” she murmured, matching Noelle’s still tone. “What about him?”
“I, uh…I met him about ten years ago. And…something, well…happened, between us.”
“Oh?” Aunt Sylvie arched her eyebrows. “…Should I ask what?”
“Well, I…dunno if I wanna get into it too much. But let’s just say there seemed to be some…trauma involved,” Noelle told her.
Alarm filled Sylvia’s eyes.
“Oh god. Did he…?”
“Um, not exactly—if you’re asking what I think you’re asking.”
“Are you sure you’re thinking what I’m asking?” Sylvie asked. “I’ll confront him, or bring him over if you want.”
“NO. No,” refused Noelle, raising her voice and shaking her head more vehemently. “Thanks, Aunt Sylvie, but I don’t think it’s exactly what you’re thinking. Why, uh…why don’t I tell you about it on the way home. ’Kay? Please?”
“Well, all right,” Sylvia agreed, willing to honor the girl’s wishes. “Shall we continue then?”
The ladies concluded lunch and navigated more of the mall, making additional purchases. Aunt Sylvie’s curiosity grew as she noted the spark had abandoned Noelle’s eyes and the bounce her step since she’d seen that young man in the food court. Though she’d denied it, Sylvia couldn’t help but wonder if her speculations were correct. It would explain her disturbingly abrupt change of mood. But she stuck to their agreement, and kept mum until they departed, and climbed back in the car.
“Whew. Okay. So…” began Sylvie, as they tossed their bags in the back seat. “…The, eh…guy in the food court?”
Noelle squirmed a little. It was clear discussing this made her uneasy.
“Uh, right, right. Can…Aunt Sylvie, can-can we take the long way home?”
“Well, we don’t have to go straight home. I’ll just drive around awhile if you need some time.”
“I appreciate it. Here’s the thing. When him and me were nineteen—we’re the same age—we went out for a while. And after a few months it started to get serious. And…it was a little weird at the time. He was different from other guys I’d met. He never really tried to grab me or touch me, which I’d…honestly started to get used to from other dudes. So at first, I liked that about him. But…well, four or five months later, probably, like I said, we’d gotten a little serious. And, he seemed to like kissing and snuggling me, but…not much else. For some reason. And it confused the fuck outta me. I always thought…”
She sighed. “Anyway, so, I always, um…went solo,” she cleared her throat. “But I was starting to wanna be…y’know, with him. But it just didn’t seem to be happening, on his end. So I at least wanted to know where he stood. It had almost been half a fucking year, for god’s sake. So one day I say to him, ‘You do like me, don’t’cha? You’re not gay, right?’ He says yeah, he likes me, and he’s not gay. So I’m like, then what’s the problem?…Then he drops a bomb on me.”
“Oh, goodness,” Aunt Sylvie jumped in, thinking she had it. “He was with another girl.”
“No. Actually, no, he wasn’t. And that wouldn’t have even been really possible, turns out. ’Cause the bomb he dropped on me was…he thought he was asexual.”
“Oh.” Sylvia reddened in a bit of embarrassment. “Well. Guess I called that one wrong.”
“’S okay. So, at the time, I…” This being where the regret started its way in, Noelle pushed herself to go on.
“…I just found that unbelievable. We were fucking nineteen, Aunt Sylvie. I figured, every guy’s in a sexual peak at nineteen, isn’t he? Well, that’s what I thought at the time. I thought he was making up a weird excuse to not have sex with me. And to be honest with ya, I was kinda pissed off. And a little insulted. I thought, what’s wrong with me that you don’t wanna…y’know. And he insisted, nothing, it didn’t have anything to do with me, it’s just the way he was. But I just couldn’t buy that. I couldn’t get my head around it. It…just had to be an excuse. So, um…I decided to…kinda…do something…to prove I was right.”
“Ruh-roh,” Sylvia remarked. “I get the feeling the plot’s about to thicken.”
“You could say that. So, uh…one morning, we were at his parents’ house, and I got up before him. And…” She sighed again.
“…Aunt Sylvie, please keep in mind I was nineteen. And dumb. Obviously. ’Cause…like I said, I was determined by this point to prove—to both of us—that whatever he said, he really did want me. So…this would be where I did something really stupid.”
“I decided to wake him up with a, uh…blow job.”
“So…I did. And even though he was still mostly asleep, I thought he’d at least…y’know, respond. So I…went for it. But after a couple minutes, I realized…this isn’t working. He might not be awake yet, but I’m getting nothing here. The show’s on, but the curtain won’t rise. At all. But I still don’t buy the whole asexual thing. So then I start to think, oh my god, he’s impotent. Well, that’d be one reason he’s not in a hurry to fuck. But I’d like to think I can still ‘cure’ that. So I kept at it. And, I was kinda liking it, even if his…you-know-what wasn’t. I was ready for him to wake up, and, y’know, and also wake up. So eventually, he does.”
“So, he’s like, what’s going on? And even though he still wasn’t…excited, yet, I look up and grin at him through it. So when he realizes what I’m doing…well, this would be the part where something else got blown: my mind. In a bad way.
“He freaks on me, Aunt Sylvie. He yanks himself outta my mouth and goes, ‘What the fuck?! What’re you doing?!’ So now I start to freak out too. I go, ‘…I was giving you a blow job! What’s the problem??’ And he’s like, ‘Didn’t I tell you I was asexual?!’”
She paused. Sylvia remained quiet.
“So…so, now I’m at a loss. Now I have no clue what to think. I’m like…I was so sure. I’m thinking…you really are? But how is that even…I-I just didn’t get it. But, Aunt Sylvie…till another minute later, I didn’t know just how big I fucked up.”
Sylvia heard her tone getting upset. One hand on the wheel, she took Noelle’s with her other.
“So next thing I know, he gets up, gets dressed, and tells me to get out. He said…”
Noelle sniffled. Tears pricked her eyes.
“…He said I’d violated everything we’d had together. He said I obviously hadn’t trusted him, and that now he didn’t trust me. He said he couldn’t even look at me anymore. He was so upset and so angry, and…and all I could say was…‘Dude, aren’t you overreacting a little? I was just trying to be romantic and sexy for ya! Okay, so maybe you are asexual. I mean, yeah, that’s kinda hard for me to swallow’—pun sadly not intended—‘but, but…I just don’t get the concept! Please, just…help me understand! I’m sorry!’”
Silence took over for a moment. Aunt Sylvie’s spirits sank along with Noelle’s as she heard her crying.
“That’s when he said what hurt the most. He turned his back to me, and just loud enough for me to hear, he goes…
“…‘Please just leave. I don’t ever wanna see you again.’”
Sylvia felt her heart crack. Noelle’s story was told, and her sobbing filled the silence. So now she knew.
“God…” She shook her own head. “I’m so sorry that happened to you and him, honey. If it makes you feel any better, we all do things we regret when we’re young. And I’m a firm believer that enough time fixes anything. I certainly understand now why you got so distraught when you saw him. Although it’s been ten years. I’m sure that if you tried to talk to him in the mall, he’d at least accept your apology, if nothing else. Not that we have to test that theory.”
Noelle wiped and swiped her eyes.
“If it’s all the same to you, Aunt Sylvie, I kinda just wanna forget about it. If I can’t go back in time and fix it, then I just want it back outta my mind. I’d totally put it behind me until we saw him today. Then it all came rushing back to me in living color. I just wanna get on with my life and let him get on with his, and he won’t have to be reminded I basically mouth-raped him. And I won’t have to be reminded that I was so petrified to ever meet another asexual guy, or be in a relationship after that…I became a hooker.”
“Oh, sweetie…you said yourself you were nineteen. And no, you can’t go back and undo it now. I’m sure that if you could you would, and there is your savory element. You see, you’re still a good girl. A few mishaps do not a bad person make. If you didn’t care or regret it, or if you weren’t sorry, then that might make you a bad person. But you did care, and you were sorry. And I’m guessing you haven’t done that kinda thing since then. Or’re planning to again.”
“I haven’t. And I’m not.”
“Then don’t keep punishing yourself. Look at it this way: it looked like he was there today with a couple friends, right? I mean, I just saw him the one time, but he looked like he was having a nice day to me. So clearly you didn’t traumatize him into never being able to have fun again. And I’m willing to bet you wish him well now, right?”
“Sure I do.”
“See? And you wanna know how I knew that? Because you are a good person, Noelle Beckman. We all mess up now and then. And we can always make amends. What we don’t have to do is keep paying the price for the rest of our lives.”
Noelle welled and swelled inside. She felt an impulse to say something to Aunt Sylvie she’d not said very many times in her life. She hugged Sylvia’s non-driving arm.
“Aunt Sylvie…can I please tell you something? Just…friend to friend? Niece to auntie?”
“Of course, honey. You can tell me anything you want.”
Noelle poured all the honesty and sentiment she could into the statement, meaning each word she said.
“I love you.”
Aunt Sylvia let out a small gasp, glowing all over with warmth.
“Oh, Noelle, baby doll…I love you too.”
Such, A, Sup-ple, Wrist!
Thursday, April 28th, 2016, 10:33 p.m.
One of Noelle’s favorite things about being taken in with Aunt Sylvie was that she’d no responsibilities or set beddy-bye-time. When she entered middle and high school, she had to be on campus and in her first classroom at 7:00 a.m. A nocturnal owl like Noelle Beckman was positively exhausted every morning. She and a number of classmates thought it pretty ridiculous. Lots of individuals who worked full-time for a living didn’t have to get up this early. Although she guessed her teachers did. And if students were paid to go to school, that’d be one thing. God knew it felt like work, and she gave enough of her time to it. Teachers got up at the same hour, did as much homework as the students did and had the same days off, but at least they got paid. Not much, but they did.
Noelle’s first job popped up when she was 16. She worked part-time at Claire’s in the Juniper Mall. The money wasn’t bad for what it was. Her free time was limited a fair deal more, but now she could buy fun stuff. At the same time, she was always rather jealous of neighborhood kids whose folks spoiled them, showering them with toys like every day was Christmas. And she was very jealous of those born into natural wealth. They didn’t have to work, they got to sit around while other people did everything for them, and they could do whatever they fucking well felt like in the meanwhile. What was there not to be jealous of?
After meeting and dating Mickey, the asexual gentleman they’d seen at the mall, Noelle entered her 20s. The situation with Mickey had indeed jaded and disoriented her on the courting/relationship experience. It was her first real romance with a guy, and had turned out to be hardly romantic at all. It didn’t seem fair. Other girls had guys begging them for sex. Hers literally couldn’t be less interested. He was fine with smooching and cuddling, and that was more than enough for him. For Noelle, not so much.
After college, Noelle hadn’t much trouble finding a professional full-time job. The problem was that it was a clerical desk job, and bored the living hell out of her. She couldn’t help but crave something more exciting for a living. On top of which, she remained on her own. And while making love to herself was fine, she was getting…tense. And craving some serious…tension-relievers.
She didn’t go into the prostitutional arts entirely of her own notion. One late autumn afternoon she was passing through Hemdale on foot, in a hurry to get back to her car, when someone pulled up beside her, called her babycakes, and asked what she’d do for a hunjie. Noelle’s gut reaction was to tell the individual to go pound dirt—but not in those exact words—and pick up her pace. So she did. But the more she thought about it for weeks afterwards, she wondered exactly how offended or disgusted she should feel. This man thought she was a hooker, which in and of itself was a little alarming. But that kind of thing was known to happen in Hemdale County. As Noelle processed and reprocessed it, he had wanted to have sex with her. And he was willing to pay her for it. This had never happened before. She might’ve actually just found her way onto something here.
Since Mickey, Noelle’s desires had morphed into a medley of physical and carnal delights, with little need for an emotional connection. She’d had enough emotion with Mickey. She wanted and needed some action now. It struck her that chaps who approached the SYLFs in Hemdale were after the same. Gents were apt to shell out some serious bucks, and it seemed more exciting than being chained to a desk. There were some safety factors to consider, but…had Noelle just found a possible new…career?
She had…but the trouble here was that the novelty of pay to dole sexual favors wore off quick. And that not all clientele were agreeable to her rates vis-à-vis services. Once she’d gotten used to asserting little phrases like, “Hunjie gets you a handy,” she was met with haggling. Working out negotiations wasn’t normally tough, but she was soon to discover her personality needed to be. Some guys that picked her up were rough around the edges. Others were nice, wanting to hang out with her or chat awhile before or after doing the deed. This was okay, Noelle supposed, as long as they weren’t looking to get attached.
Traditional sex was fine as long as protection was involved. She was game for most else, as she supposed hookers basically had to be, though she was most proficient in her aforementioned “handies.” It would seem she was born with an agile wrist, incredible dexterity and great rhythm. Perhaps she’d missed her calling as a professional musician. Or…foosball player. And when the realities of the profession materialized, and Noelle found that her “career” and streetcorner came with a severe price, she enjoyed it far less. It would appear she’d trapped herself. This wasn’t what she’d wanted after all. She still didn’t exactly feel the need for a relationship. But she questioned how much was worse than being forced through a series of one-night stands, or facing the consequences.
Nine tenths of the way through her 20s, Noelle Beckman was about as jaundiced as a grown-up kid could be. By the time the Sultry Spring of Sixteen arrived, and the lass started to wonder just how much more of this she could withstand…enter one Sylvia Quibley.
Before she knew it, she’d spilled it all for Aunt Sylvie on the rest of their way home. After telling Sylvia she loved her like the adopted niece she was, the rest just came gushing out. Well, said Aunt Sylvie, she wouldn’t have to worry about all that anymore. Things were going to be just fine. And that really was all Noelle wanted to hear. She was happy. And loved it in her Quibley castle even more now.
With no job, responsibilities or schedule to keep, the pair of night owls could do as they’d been the last several nights—i.e., whatever their hearts pleased. And Noelle’s tonight pleased to challenge Aunt Sylvie to another game. So it was back into the game room, where Noelle beelined to a very specific pinball table. It was an ’80s-themed machine, with the brightest colors and flashiest designs among its sibling tables, which Noelle’d wanted to play since seeing the game room. It was positively loaded with ’80s features and targets. And it was all free play, all the time. So Sylvia retrieved the key to activate it.
“Can I go first?”
“Of course, young one. I’d be happy to kick your butt in either order.”
“Ohhh, I wouldn’t get so cocky, old woman.”
So the machine flashed to life, beeping and flipping switches amid an electronic rendition of a-ha’s “Take On Me.” Player one’s first ball was deposited in the kickoff chute. Noelle pulled the plunger as far back as it would go, and let it fly. Her first ball propelled up and over, cheered on by the song’s dancing synth-melodies, and the game was on.
The first she hit was the cluster of Smurfs bumpers, racking up a few thousand points. The backbox rewarded her accordingly, informing her, “You’re the Smurfiest!” This sent her back down the fluorescent-rainbow playfield, bouncing off the bottom flippers’ targets, represented by He-Man and She-Ra. Noelle caught the ball with the left flipper and sent it careening back up, this time into a chute onto a habitrail called the Knight Rider speedway. A few more beeps and clicks, and the voice of the talking car spoke to her. “K.I.T.T. here. Well done, my friend.”
When the ball was sent down this time, Noelle threaded a perfect shot into another chute, and around the area designated ALF and E.T.’s hyperspace. The ball slammed against a dozen more targets, and another set of bumpers with Q*bert, Pac-Man, and their female counterparts. It tumbled down towards the drain again, but not before hitting a Hologram spinner and earning her a Jem jackpot.
“Truly outrageous!” the machine told her, as “Take On Me” kept playing all the while.
“Wow!” said Sylvia, dancing with the music behind her. “Nice shootin’, babe!”
“Thanks, auntie!” Noelle called, keeping her eyes on the ball. The next target she nailed was the Atari orbit. A series of pegs leapt up in the middle of the playfield to buffet and Plinko the ball for more bonus points. Finally, “Take On Me” ended. A female voice praised her, saying, “Like, totally awesome! Now Madonna says, get Into The Groove!”
The next song to play was self-explanatory. The ball caromed off the Transformers targets, and got stuck behind one of them. Noelle gave the table a nudge to jar it loose.
“Careful, sweetie,” she heard Aunt Sylvie caution. “Don’t tilt it.”
Noelle heeded the warning, but as the ball was sent back down towards her, it evaded both bottom flippers and drained. Her first turn was over. Some of the mechanisms stopped and reset, but the music went on playing. Noelle plunged her second ball.
This time she missed the Smurf bumpers, but ricocheted off a set of Rainbow Brite/Care Bears targets. The next chute she sent the ball up was the Thriller ride. This also chose and started playing the following song. She broke 400,000 points.
“Oh my god, Aunt Sylvie, this is the coolest fucking thing ever,” she shouted over it. “I was born too late for most of this stuff, but that didn’t stop me from checking it out online.”
Sylvia smiled fondly, resisting the urge to break out into the Thriller dance and doubtlessly embarrass them both—though they were the only ones here. “Online.” Gosh, to not know what it was like to live without their beloved World-Wide Web. She fought off another urge, one to say, “Y’know, kid, when I was your age…” She’d loved the ’80s finding her way through them firsthand, and knew she just had to have this table when she saw it. She’d never have guessed it was another thing that would bring her and Noelle closer together. Who knew. They really were like kindred spirits.
A hundred thousand points later, at the half-million point, Noelle got a Radical Replay. And so when her second ball drained, it was restored. She plunged again, crashing through a series of Purple Rain poppers, as “Let’s Go Crazy” coincidentally played next. Noelle loved this thing. It was a pinball table and a jukebox. She flipped and smacked the ball ever more enthusiastically, but at the same time, got a little excited and nudged too hard. It did tilt. Once more, the song kept going, but having tilted it, they heard—back to back—the Super Mario and Pac-Man death cues. Her flippers deactivated and the ball drained.
Oops. Wow, she thought in sheepish amazement. Even the “tilt” feature’s cool. She launched ball three.
The first new thing she hit this time was the Rubik’s rollover, for another substantial bonus. Her third ball lasted longer and longer as meager experience paid off. She couldn’t guess how much more time passed—though before ball three ran its course, she did also go through “Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)”, “Whip It” and “Girls Just Want To Have Fun.” Maybe her mind was being naughty, but suspiciously, in one way or another…just about all these songs seemed to be telling her to go off and have her naughty way with Aunt Sylvie. She guessed eventually she got a little distracted. The magic stopper keeping the ball from draining sunk back into the table just moments before she lost it. They gave a chorus of “Awwww…” as Noelle’s game ended, and a very Mr. T.-like voice informed them that it pitied her. With all the leftover bonus points added, her total score was 882,700.
“Okay!” said Aunt Sylvie, noting her score. She scribbled it down on a little notepad, and told the niecey, “Now do step aside, and let the old broad show you how it’s done.” She retrieved the key, reset it to zero, and “Take On Me” started over.
Sylvia launched her first ball, nailing a lot of the same targets Noelle had. The first new feature she hit was the Fraggle Rock ‘N’ Roll drophole. For this the machine rewarded her by singing, “Dance your cares away…” Not long after, she sent the ball up a chute Noelle’d missed, prompting it to jingle, “Every time I turn around…” and give her a Punky Booster. The song ended, and Noelle waited, thinking they’d hear “Into The Groove” again. But to her surprise, the soundtrack was changed up. A sharp, unmistakable A-minor chord sliced through the atmosphere, leading them into very possibly the greatest new wave hit of them all.
Noelle announced that she wanted to sing along with this one as Sylvia kept playing. So she did.
“You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar…” she crooned, bopping about just as Aunt Sylvie had done during her turn. “When I met you…I picked you out, I shook you up and turned you around…turned you into someone new…”
A few bars later, Sylvia sang along too. Again, Noelle couldn’t help but feel these songs were trying to tell her something. She began to feel the urge to be impulsive. As the chorus approached, she hugged Aunt Sylvie from behind.
“Ooh!” A bit startled, Sylvia was almost thrown off, but persevered. She tingled, enjoying the embrace. “That feels nice, Noelle.”
“Yeah?” the niece asked. “How ’bout…this?”
While holding her around the middle, Noelle’s right hand found Aunt Sylvie’s left titty, and gave it a grope.
Sylvie gasped, and temporarily lost her grip on the flipper buttons. Her first ball bounced off the end of the bottom flipper, and drained.
Noelle blushed. “Oops…” she confessed.
Before setting off her second ball, Aunt Sylvie turned to the innocently smiling niece with a smirk.
“You little devil,” she teased, tickling her underarms and ribs. “‘Oops’ indeed.”
Noelle hadn’t honestly meant to mess her up, but had to admit to a flattering ego swell at this development. Aunt Sylvie must’ve liked her quite a bit, to allow herself to be so distracted. “Don’t You Want Me” played on, easing the niece more and more into the mood. Noelle waited for Aunt Sylvie to kick off ball two, leaned up behind her, and exhaled in her ear.
“The music’s making me do it, Aunt Sylvie…” she proclaimed, as her auntie went on trying to focus. Noelle slipped the same paw out in front of Sylvia, between her and the machine, and rubbed her thigh.
“It’s not me. It’s the song.”
Aunt Sylvie gasped again, feeling a sizzle of excitement go through her. She almost lost the second ball as well, but managed to catch it at a standstill by holding up the flipper.
“N—…Noelle…honey…” she gently cajoled, trying to be patient. “This…now, this-this isn’t quite fair, you know…”
“Oh, really?” came the flirty voice behind her. Noelle burrowed her nose in Sylvia’s silver locks, holding her a bit tighter, keeping up the naughty thigh-rubbing. “Whyever could that be?”
Aunt Sylvie did her utmost to keep from moaning or sweating.
“Because, my dear, I think you’re aware of the sensual power you’ve got over me—that of course being one of the reasons I t—ooh!—took you home Saturday…and-and not that I’m entirely powerless myself, but…but…ohhh, my god…oh, Noelle, that feels good…”
“Yeah?…” Noelle reiterated, nosing her hair aside and kissing the nape of her neck. “Want me to go deeper?”
Yes. “Uh, well, per-perhaps we’d better just finish our game here, and…and-and go from there.”
“Oh.” Noelle removed her hands and lips, backing off. “Well, okay. Go ahead, Aunt Sylvie.”
And good fucking luck, old woman, she thought with sinister glee. Not that she expressly planned to seduce dear auntie into a totally flabbergasted loss. But a wonderful feeling of power had been unlocked in her. She loved this. She loved knowing she’d very possibly set Aunt Sylvie’s heart to quivering, libido to purring, and pussy to twitching with such a few skillful moves. And she loved that now, semi-abruptly taking her fingers and mouth off Sylvia’s skin, this likely made the silver fox want them back. She couldn’t blame the song anymore, as the music had changed to “Dancing In The Dark.” But taking a cue, she could let Aunt Sylvie go on playing…slip silently off to the corner of the room…and kill the lights.
Darkness didn’t also quench the fun of the games. The electronic mechanisms enabled them to glow, and even on a pinball table, one could basically see what one was doing. Aunt Sylvie chuckled through a scoff as she noticed what Noelle was up to now.
“Ho-ho…you really are a little stinker, aren’t’cha…” she called over her shoulder.
Noelle reapproached. Aunt Sylvie was still on her second ball, nearing the Radical Replay point of 500,000. Marveling how cool it was they could keep playing without lights, Noelle pranced to the other end of the game room, dragged over one of the trampolines, hopped up and started jumping.
“Y’can’t start a fire!…” she crowed along. “Can’t start a fire without a spark, this gun’s for hire…”
Sylvia smiled tenderly, just adoring what a great time her niece was having. This had turned into a little party with the heated game and lively tunes. The next one was “Ghostbusters.” It got underway just as Sylvie claimed her replay. They chanted together, “Who ya gonna call??” as Sylvia sent the ball through the Eurythmic orbit, the bonus-riddled Cheers bar, the Indiana Jones boulderway, and the Nintendo habitrail. As “Ghostbusters” ran course, a replica of Sting’s enigmatic voice took over.
“I want my MTV…”
“Money For Nothing” was up next. Still on her second ball, Sylvie was steadily gaining confidence, and as well on Noelle’s score. She broke 700,000. Points ascended with more momentum the longer a player went without losing a ball. And had she kept it up much longer, she might’ve reached Noelle on this same turn. But finally, it hurtled down the drain before she could catch it.
Ball three. Noelle stepped off the trampoline to relax and watch. She leaned on an adjoining table called Swamp Thing Thrill Ride. Where did Aunt Sylvie get some of these things, she had to wonder. Or perhaps an even better question: where did she get the idea to get some of these things? She looked back up in time to see Aunt Sylvie hit something called the Fast Times flasher.
“Hey, bud!” the machine chuckled. “Let’s party!”
“Ooh! Sweetie, look!” Sylvia called. “I got a Mondo Multiball!”
While, Noelle thought, there wasn’t really a big ’80s song about balls (well, “Balls To The Wall” came to mind, but), the next song the machine chose was pretty appropriate to the multiball achievement, and matched the energy nicely too. “99 Red Balloons.” Two extra pinballs shot out onto the playing field at the same time, tripling Sylvia’s bonuses and efforts. Noelle was impressed, and couldn’t help being jealous she’d missed this doozy. This song made her likewise want to dance, so she shimmied beside Sylvia, thrusting her pelvis, shaking her boobs…and still not really trying to be provocative, but succeeding. Aunt Sylvie kept up the craziness of three balls on the table simultaneously. She soon lost two, but climbed upwards of 800,000.
“Uh-oh!” said Noelle.
Sylvia took a spare second to grin at her, loving how they both enjoyed these spirited competitions. First foosball, now pinball, then really just anything that struck their fancy. They ought to go bowling, she thought, wondering how good a bowler Noelle was. Her next thought was, For a middle-aged lesbian, I sure as hell do like playing with balls a lot.
In the meantime, she had to admit, competitiveness was indeed getting the better of her. The pinball match was almost over. She was on her last ball, nearing Noelle’s score. This shouldn’t be too tough, she processed. Ignoring the first column of perspiration trickling down her face, she glanced alternatingly at her score and the table, back and forth.
“I Ran” by A Flock Of Seagulls took over. Noelle watched the digits keep climbing, starting to fear. She suddenly realized just how much she really, really wanted to win this. She wanted to turn the tables—no pun intended—on Aunt Sylvie, and pay her back for Saturday. Now armed with the knowledge that she could made the silver fox long for her sexual charms with just a touch, Noelle longed to restrain the old gal down and send her through a whirlwind of intense passion…and maybe overwhelm her too, just for a nice extra dash. Maybe put that clit pump to use on her and see how she liked it.
Nothing was really stopping her from hugging Aunt Sylvie again, distracting her once more and shifting the odds to her favor, but she didn’t want to do that. Well, she did, kind of, but…she’d rather win on the merits of her own skill. Aunt Sylvie had just cracked 850,000 points. Noelle reminded herself of her score. 882,700. She gulped, feeling her own sweat come on. Competition was gripping the better of her just the same. And a new scary thought suddenly occurred to her. If Aunt Sylvie did win this, too…
What sort of wild “punishment” would she have in store for Noelle this time?
This was scary, but also…turned her on. Aunt Sylvia had some sexual power over her as well. The way she wiggled that vibrator inside her and manipulated those control settings…made Noelle shiver. She was sure this wasn’t the last game or activity in which she and Aunt Sylvie would compete. And she was sure they’d both win whatever games they played in the future. But would they be able to keep upping the stakes on each other in the “punishment” round, now there was a question.
For tonight, Noelle grew more and more apprehensive. C’mon, lose! she thought. C’mon, please! I wanna win this!
Grab her, Noelle, the impulsive part of her brain commanded. Grab her pussy. Right now. Do it.
I…I just don’t wanna, she argued with herself. Yeah, it might win us the game, but it wouldn’t feel like a real victory! That’s…I mean, that’s essentially cheating, isn’t it?
On the one hand, maybe it is! On the other, who gives a fuck?!
Time’s running out, girl. You remember that foosball match. You know how agile auntie is. Do we wanna win this or not??
The impulse began to influence Noelle, as she pondered the numerous ways she could punish Aunt Sylvie. She took a step closer.
“Ooooh, c’mon, baby!” yelled Sylvia. “Almost there! Just a little further! Be good to Auntie!”
Noelle’s eyes popped open as a chill ran through her. 875,000. Aunt Sylvie hit a mini-bonus, and was now only seven thousand points behind. Oh, she so didn’t want to lose this. Sylvie’d already gotten to have her way with her; Noelle wanted to be in charge this time! She began to feel it necessary to abruptly grope Aunt Sylvie and fumble her. Noelle inched in, eyeing that ass. One little goose. All it could take. Her brain still wasn’t sure, but beloved auntie’s score wasn’t slowing down. Her paw decided to take action. It reached. Part of her still didn’t like doing this, but if the situation were reversed, she wasn’t sure she’d put a stunt like this past Aunt Sylvie.
Just a little further, her competitive side urged. Just reach out…and touch her. Just do it.
Sylvia’s ball rocketed straight back down from the Smurfs bumpers. “Eye Of The Tiger” cut through the audio system next.
Just do it, Noelle.
Noelle shut her eyes and winced.
JUST DO IT, NOELLE! JUST DO IT JUST DO IT JUST DO IT JUST DO IT JUST DO IT JUST D—
She never got the opportunity.
The ball plummeted directly down the middle. Neither flipper had a chance.
They gasped in unison, whipping their gazes to the backbox. The table added Sylvia’s leftover bonus points and showed her total score.
“Eight eigh—…eight EIGHTY!” Noelle bellowed, realizing she was victorious. “I WIN! FUCKING YEEEEEEEESSSS!!”
She cackled triumphantly, though her mind was blown. She’d come so close, and ultimately hadn’t needed to “cheat” at all. Sylvia held up one finger, indicating they needed to hold out for the “match,” to see if she’d be granted a free turn.
Oh, god-fucking…! That was right, Noelle remembered. Matches were rare on these machines, but still happened.
“60! 60!” Aunt Sylvie shouted.
“Anything else! Any-fucking-thing else!” Noelle countered.
Noelle screamed and pumped both fists in the air, as Sylvia let her knees give out, slumping over the table.
“NOOOOO-o-o-o-o!!” the silver fox wailed.
“HA ha ha ha ha ha ha!” the bebanged princess laughed wickedly. “In your FACE, old woman! In your fucking face!
“OH, does winning feel good!” Noelle celebrated, giving Aunt Sylvie a spank on the ass, rubbing her poor nose in it. Sylvia got to her feet and turned, forcing herself to be a good sport.
“A’right, sweetie…excellent game,” she congratulated, holding out her arms for a hug. “Good job.”
“Good job to you too, Aunt Sylvie!” rejoined Noelle, all ear-to-ear smiles. “Ready for your punishment??”
Sylvia froze mid-embrace. Her eyes shut in painful regret.
“Oh, god…I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”
Still arms in arms, Noelle nodded, kissing auntie’s ear and hair.
Sigh. “Oh-kay…” Sylvia broke the hug to look her in the eye.
“…What’re you gonna do to me?”
Let’s Make A…
Thursday, April 28th, 2016, 11:52 p.m.
After gathering the supplies, the ladies reconvened in Sylvia’s bedroom. The morning’s sexcapade had taken place in Noelle’s bed with her as the focus, so it seemed appropriate to conduct Aunt Sylvie’s in her own. Noelle’d begun by draping the large, protective dropcloth over the mattress. Sylvia had no reason to wonder what was going on after Noelle ordered her to fetch this, the watercolors and the palette. It was painting payback time. When this was complete, Noelle picked up one sizable pillow and gave her next command.
“Up and at ’em, Aunt Sylvie. Naked, on your belly.”
“On my belly?”
“Fuckin’-A right, loser.” Noelle slipped the pillow under the dropcloth and arranged it right in the middle, instructing Sylvia to rest her waist over it. Aunt Sylvie stripped nude, climbed on up and obediently did so. Already loving the view, Noelle dragged a limb to each corner and tethered with the four Velcro restraints they’d collected. Next came the blindfold, which was less necessary in the position she’d put Aunt Sylvie. But Noelle wanted her as helpless and vulnerable as possible. After double-checking that all was as it should be, the underwear-clad niece climbed up beside Sylvie with the paints. Aunt Sylvie heard Noelle’s voice drip over her like honey.
“God, you look so beautiful lying there, all nakies and tied up…”
Sylvia felt Noelle drape her silver mane forward over her head, so her nape was as exposed as the rest of her. Noelle felt this an innocent spot to begin and work her way down from. So she rested the palette on Aunt Sylvie’s shoulder blades, mixed some yellow and orange, and started with a gold lightning bolt on the back of her neck.
“EEEE khee hee hee hee…” came Sylvie’s giggle, muffled under the ball of fluffy silvery hair.
“Lie still, woman,” Noelle chided. She wanted to bring back all the elements she could remember from Saturday, and give Aunt Sylvie every taste of her own medicine. She chose and mixed colors, and painted all sorts of things. She put a flower on Sylvia’s right shoulder, a snaky ‘S’ on her side, a couple geometric shapes by her spine. An anatomically questionable animal on her lower back, some long, multicolored flowy lines along her ribs and breast—“since you’re a lesbian, Aunt Sylvie, there’s your rainbow flag”—an undefined creation on her arm, the word “auntie” on the other side of her back. Most of her artwork came out shaky and awkward on the ticklish “canvas.” Sylvia giggled and wriggled until tears came to her covered eyes. Her niece was exceedingly pleased.
“Wow,” marveled Noelle. “And I haven’t even gotten to your real sweet spots yet!”
She plucked Aunt Sylvie’s boob from underneath and painted a blue swirl around her nipple. Sylvia burst out laughing, thrashing, flailing, cracking Noelle up with her. Her top half was getting pretty buried in paintings, so Noelle shifted down.
“Well! So much for foreplay. Okay, Aunt Sylvie, how sensitive are ya below the belt?”
Sylvia whimpered and wept in response, slapping the dropclothed mattress with her palms. Noelle chuckled.
“I think that answers my question. Guess the quality of my artwork’s gonna suffer a little more. But…” She feigned reluctance, sucking air through her teeth. “…I’ll just have to live with that, now won’t I.”
Aunt Sylvie could just hear the sinister smirk in her inflection. Her roguish niece sat on her right calf, holding her down. Auntie’s next present was a butterfly on her ass cheek. A butterfly that came out very lopsided and crooked. After this, a series of branching squiggles where Sylvia’s ass crack met her lower back. Now she needed something for the other butt cheek. She guessed she shouldn’t worry about doing anything neat if Aunt Sylvie was going to wiggle around like that again. So she did as Rabbit did Winnie the Pooh, and put a big sloppy smiley face on the other cheek. Sure enough, Aunt Sylvie went nuts, whapping the bed and laughing like crazy.
Noelle mixed some black and white for a nice shade of gray—“hee hee, now all’s I need’s forty-nine more of these”—added some red, and painted flames down the backs of Aunt Sylvie’s thighs. These didn’t come out much better. Nor did the multi-toned bubbles Noelle added to her calves. Next came some cute spiders and ladybugs, which were downright unrecognizable. Finally, she made her way to Sylvie’s ankles. Still laughing like a hyena, Sylvie flipped her hair, whipping her face in the direction she thought was Noelle’s.
“Noelle, ple-e-e-e-ease! M—…m-mercy-y-y-yyyy!”
“’Fraid not, auntie dear. There was no such thing as mercy when I got punished. Hope for your sake your feet aren’t too ticklish.”
Sylvia dropped her face flat in the bed and sobbed. While the tears remained constant, the sobbing reverted to cackling as Noelle sat beside her leg, used one hand and foot to pin her ankle, and swished the tip of the paintbrush up and down her sole. Aunt Sylvie totally lost it, shrieking in hysterics, making two furious fists and mutilating the mattress. Noelle couldn’t think of what to illustrate on the bottoms of Aunt Sylvie’s tootsies, so she just wrote some letters.
“Let’s see, here we go…R!…” she hollered long and loud, to carry over Sylvia’s hilarious laughter.
“…I…G…H…T!! There’s the right foot! Now…”
She spun herself around and pinned the helpless auntie’s left.
“Aaaaaand, L…E…F…T!” she proudly announced. “There you go, Aunt Sylvie! Now you won’t mix up your shoes and socks!”
Sylvia was laughing and crying so simultaneously hard she was getting a headache. But she wouldn’t have to worry about that much longer, as Noelle explained, for it was now time for the coup de grâce, the pièce de résistance, and all those other fancy-ass phrases.
“Mon dieu,” said Aunt Sylvie.
“Oui, madame. You wet down there yet?”
“Certainly on my way, sweetie.”
Noelle’s voice deepened. She slid a fingertip up auntie’s pussy slit.
“You’d better be, dollface.”
Gasp. “Oh god.”
With her crotch elevated atop the pillow, Noelle had easier access. She mixed a surplus of red in with a little white, making bright pink, then mixed some more red in with that for a nice magenta-fuchsia hybrid.
“Now, before we do ‘Little’ Sylvie, let’s get some more wetness going on here,” Noelle told her. She sat the palette aside, slid down onto her own belly, leaned in, produced saliva, and tongued Sylvie’s cunt. She was now treated to the sound of Aunt Sylvie losing it, sans laughter. Her groans escalated. Noelle slicked and slicked, until her saliva sheen was nice and thorough. She accidentally poked Sylvie’s taint with her nose. The dear auntie squealed.
Like a…a…squealer, thought Noelle.
“Ooh! Like that, did ya?” she called up.
“Oh, that is my weakest spot!” Sylvia confessed. “Noelle, honey, my taint drives me crazy!”
“Ahhh…not sure you should’ve told me that little secret, Aunt Sylvie.”
“Oh god,” Aunt Sylvie repeated. “Why on Earth did I tell you that??”
“Yeah, why did you?” Noelle agreed. “Now I practically have to take advantage of that, y’know!”
She picked up the paintbrush, wasting hardly any moments or words, and rapidly swished the magenta tip around her perineum. Sure enough…out they came.
Squeal…after squeal…after raucous, tormented…SQUEEEEAL.
Noelle heartily laughed. “Taint-ed love…” she warbled. “Taint-ed love…”
So, she noted, it seemed both ladies had discovered just what made the other hellaciously SQUEEEEAL. In Noelle’s case, it was her erect clit driven crazy by these infernal bristles. In Aunt Sylvie’s, apparently the soft tender little spot between her asshole and squishy wet coochie. Sylvia lifted all four paws off the bed at once and pounded with them, over and over and over again. It was tough for both to discern if she was loving her punishment or hating it. But this was so much fun for Noelle, she was in no hurry to stop either way.
There was another idea. She could keep up the taint-painting, and try to lick at the same time. Noelle lay still on her tummy, dangling her feet in the air behind, turned her face sideways, and administered another good tongue-lashing.
Aunt Sylvia Quibley transformed into a wild animal, making it extra fortunate she was strapped down to the bed. Her howls turned violently nonhuman. She was instantaneously engulfed in such dense, merciless, unforgiving passion, she took leave of her senses. She couldn’t hear, she couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe. Noelle hadn’t asked her to fetch that clitty pump for these festivities, but didn’t need it. She could always see how Aunt Sylvie liked that another time. For now, she could stick to paint on the taint, spit on the slit, and a little fingertip massage to ring her doorbell. Sylvia screamed and swore, cringed and clenched, trying to grab Noelle’s tongue in her labia and keep it there. If she could’ve processed lucid thoughts, one of them would’ve been that finding and picking out Noelle to be her naughty playmate was among the best decisions she’d ever made.
She was going so beyond berserk, her cunt started to respond in Noelle’s direction. It would seem the niece was getting close to making her cum. Explosively. Again, lucky thing she’d Velcro on her joints holding her in place. God, tied-down Aunt Sylvie was sexy as hell.
Noelle went on vehemently teasing her taint, rubbing her clit between a couple fingers, and took one of Sylvia’s swollen red labia in her mouth. Keeping it loose enough to form coherent words, she threw Aunt Sylvie a strict command.
“Niece Noelle says cum for her!” she shouted, hoping to be heard over auntie’s caterwauling. “And do it now!”
“OHHHHHHHH!! AAAAAAHHHHHHH!! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FFFFFFFFUUUUUCK!!”
Screeching her lungs out till laryngitis was about to set in, Sylvia could at last do naught but as niece Noelle ordered. Her pleasure turned to a seizure, far too intense and overwhelming to take. She couldn’t bear or withstand it anymore. Before Noelle even realized it—but even though she’d just told Aunt Sylvie to do it—she’d indeed coaxed Sylvia’s own eager cum right out of her. Up in Aunt Sylvie’s pretty little head, her brain exploded. She never imagined she could achieve orgasm like this. Of course, it helped immensely that she adored Noelle so much already. Knowing Noelle was down there working her magic on her rocked Aunt Sylvie’s world.
I love this girl. Who knew? I actually love her. I have fallen…in unadulterated love…with my adopted niece.
She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what variety of love this was, but just being pure love was enough. They kept an unorthodox relationship, but were somehow exactly what one another wanted in a companion. They really did fit like perfect puzzle pieces. Later that amazing night, after Noelle made Aunt Sylvie cum like a sizzling volcano, she continued to enjoy the bondage by teasing, tickling and annoying her some more. And just for a sense of completion, she wreaked a little post-climax havoc on her by indeed painting her cunt. Finally, one long shower later, both were ready to surrender to sleep. They pulled the dropcloth off the bed and put everything away.
“That was really fun. Both the game and the…y’know…getting to ‘punish’ you.”
Sylvia sipped from a bottle of refreshing cold water to soothe her sore lungs.
“I couldn’t agree more, baby doll. Thanks for picking that pinball machine. It really took me down memory lane. I’m aware I can play the things anytime I want, but it’s so much more fun with a friend. The servants are super-loyal, but they don’t like to fraternize, little as I’d mind. Before you came along I used to ask them to hang out and play with me all the time.”
“Hm…well, y’know, Aunt Sylvie, I really do love it here so so much. I understand what you said this morning about my beautiful smile, and I want you to know how easy it is to smile under your roof. Or, roofs.”
“It just thrills me no end to hear that, sweetie.”
“…I’ve, uh…Aunt Sylvie, I’ve been thinking about a lot of the stuff you told me today, since we left the mall. And, eh…I think I’m gonna try and get in touch with Mickey after all, and just tell him I’m sorry for…back then, and that I hope he’s doing good now. I know what he said to me that last time, but, well, if he still doesn’t wanna hear from me, I’ll leave him alone.”
“I love that idea, Noelle. Best of luck to you.”
The bed was made. Noelle let a lull pass in the conversation, then spoke up again.
“…Would it be super-weird if I…asked if I could sleep with you tonight? I-I mean, y’know, go to sleep with you?…In your bed?”
Aunt Sylvie was rather touched by this.
“Not at all, Noelle, I’d like that.”
“Then…we could…maybe snuggle? And hopefully keep each other from getting nightmares?”
“Absolutely!” Sylvia drew back the covers. “Lovely idea! All set then?”
“All set. Can barely keep my eyes open.”
“Then Aunt Sylvie says do come to bed, my dear.”