Story By Helier

WARNING

This story contains scenes 
which are clear descriptions of 
spanking and other sexual activity.
Personally I don't find them at all
offensive but I'm willing to 
believe that some people might.

Could I therefore recommend
that this story is only read
by adults who are entirely 
convinced that they can 
read such material with 
equanimity.



SUNDAY AFTERNOON   by Helier   (M/FF  semi-cons  present)

It is the quiver that does it.   That delicate quiver of the buttocks as she
strides past.    Imagine doing that.    Imagine walking past my chair on a
Sunday afternoon in a red silk dress with nothing but a g-string
underneath.   Whatever happens this afternoon is her own fault
entirely.

Letitia's rear is consuming my attention;   I can't concentrate on
anything else.   It's the way the g-string pushes her buttocks slightly
apart and gives that irresistibly delicious quiver as she walks.    Nothing
could be more calculated to make me think of all her misdemenours of
the past week than that.   She's been quite wicked and she knows I
know that, but more to the point there's no way she can be allowed to
get away with such flagrant provocation in the middle of a Sunday
afternoon.    Certainly not in front of my sister.    However the truth is
there's something awkward and rather important I have to talk to
Tamara about and I could do without Letitia choosing this moment to
act up.

She's coming back.    I can hear her coming because she's got stilettos
on now.   Stilettos on a Sunday afternoon at home!    She walks past
again with a sniff in my direction.    How dare she sniff at me.    I can
feel my steam rising and Tamara is looking questioningly in my
direction.   The stilettos have made Letitia's superb bottom stick out,
tight and round, stretching the silk almost to bursting point.   That's
what stilettos are for, of course, to make women's bottoms stick out; 
they replaced the bustle in that respect.

I know what she's doing - she's bringing the coffee.   That can be
moderately complicated, pouring coffee:   plenty of room for trips,
splashes and spills there.   One slip and I'll pounce.   She comes in.  
She knows I'm watching her every move even though I'm pretending to
be working.   She's got it all on a tray.

Damn.   Not even a tiny slip.   She did it perfectly - the whole thing.   
Setting down, pouring, sugar, giving out the cups.    She settles back in
her armchair with hers.    I can see a triumphant glimmer in her eyes
and I know Tamara's beginning to smirk.   I never did like that girl.    I
know she's my sister but, really, she can be so trying sometimes,
especially with what she's been up to recently.

Now they're making small talk together - how galling - passing each
other biscuits.    Tamara reaches across with the plate offering it to
Letitia.   Letitia stretches forward to take one.    Her heel slips - whoops
- there goes the coffee.    All over the parquet floor and some over the
white rug.   Tamara settles back comfortably raising one eyebrow at
me.    Carpe diem - not a moment to waste.

"Letitia!   What do you think you're doing?   Look at this mess."

She knows she's made a fatal error.   She stands up looking pretty
sheepish and a bit ridiculous now in her finery.    I send her to the
kitchen to get a cloth and a bowl which she does, head bowed.

Tamara looks contemptuously in my direction.

"Would you like a biscuit, dear brother?"    I could scream at Letitia.   
She is in my power but only because my younger sister has delivered
her to me.    How humiliating.    Tamara will make damned sure I don't
forget that in a hurry.

Letitia comes back with the bowl.    At a growl from me she's quickly
down on her hands and knees rubbing the floor assiduously, cleaning
up every splash of coffee and rolling up the rug.   As she rubs, Tamara
and I watch her bobbing, quivering bottom, spellbound - that interest at
least we share.

Letitia finishes and stands up, clutching the bowl in her hands with the
rolled up rug under her arm.    She hesitates, expecting me to send her
up to our bedroom so that I can follow her up later for her punishment.   
I decide to push my luck a little.    I say nothing until she starts towards
the kitchen.

"And on your return perhaps you would like to bring a box of rice,
Letitia."

She stops, frozen.

"Oh, no, darling.    Please ... not here.   Not the rice."

"Are you arguing?"

"But ... but ..."

She's looking towards Tamara but I'm not even a little bit interested.

"The rice, Letitia."

She goes with a tiny dry sob.    Tamara seems to be pacified for the
moment.    There's even a little suggestion of respect in her eyes as
she ponders the significance of the rice.   Letitia returns and stands in
front of me with her box of rice.    I let her wait while I catch up on this
narrative then I glance up distractedly into her downcast, misty eyes.

"That corner, I think, Letitia."

She gives me one of those soulfull hurt looks to let me know she's
more scared of the humiliation than the pain.   She gets no sympathy
so she goes reluctantly to the indicated corner and spreads a little rice
on the floor.    Tamara catches on quick.

"Oh, I think a little more than that, don't you?"

Why can't little sisters mind their own business?

"Yes, a little more, Letty."

She glances round in resentful surprise.    Her humiliation already has
her on the brink of tears.    She hates Tamara being here.    She hates
the feeling that my spiteful little sister is laughing at her.    She wants
me to delay her punishment until Tamara has gone - maybe I will.   She
scatters more rice in the corner and very gingerly kneels down on it.    
It really hurts her knees, her fingers clench and I can hear her fighting
back the tears.   She doesn't want to let herself down in front of
Tamara.    I will let her off and punish her later but in return she will
have to do a bit more now.

"Now, Letitia, it's these silly clothes you've decided to wear this
afternoon that have got you into this trouble.    While you are kneeling
in the corner thinking about your mistakes perhaps you'd like to hold
your dress up so that we can see what a foolish girl chooses to wear on
a Sunday afternoon."

I can feel how brave she's being, swallowing hard trying not to cry.   
She unclenches her fingers and they alight on the sides of her dress.   
Slowly she pulls the skimpy fabric up until it has half-uncovered the
roundings of her pretty buttocks.

"Higher, I think, Letitia."    She does it reluctantly, exposing her bottom
all the way up to her waist.    I thought so.   The g-string she is wearing
is the intricately-made, almost sheer, red lace one I bought for her 23rd
birthday earlier this year - the last garment she would want to expose
herself to Tamara in.    Good.    I think that's about as much as Tamara
can expect for a public humiliation of my wife.   The rest can wait until
she's gone.    She will get bored after a while and Letitia would rather
kneel on rice all afternoon than be punished in front of Tamara.

"Aren't you going to punish her?"

Doesn't that girl ever shut up?

"Later, Tamara."

"I thought you were going to spank her or something."

"That's none of your business."

"Well, you can't leave her kneeling there all day.    I think you should
get it over with."

"It's okay", says Letitia, anxiously.

"Quiet, Letitia."    I can feel I'm getting myself into something of a 
corner now.   "I'm ... er ... I'm busy."

"Then you should let me do it."

Tamara is taking my breath away.    She's impossible.   Does she
seriously think ... ?

"Don't be ridiculous, Tamara.    Kindly go and amuse yourself
somewhere else - this is none of your business."

"I think you're not punishing her because you're afraid to."

I hear a sharp intake of breath from Letty.    For the first time she knows
she's in danger - Tamara is touching a sensitive nerve.    I'm on the
horns of a dilemma.    Letitia won't speak to me for a week if I let
Tamara spank her but, if I don't, Tamara will tell everyone I'm a weak-
kneed husband.   Brotherly love is fast icing over.    A particularly nasty
plan is forming in my mind for Tamara.   I decide to give her some more
rope.

"I do not believe, Tamara, that you have any idea what you are
suggesting but, very well, you may attempt to administer Letitia's
punishment."

"No!"  A huge cry of dismay bursts from the corner.    Letty drops her
silk dress and turns, squealing with pain at the rice under her knees.

"Please, please, no.    Don't let her do it.   No," she wails.   "Don't make
me ... "

"Quiet, Letitia.   You will do what you are told."  

"No, no ... "    She is crying aloud now.

"Letitia, you will be spanked for your carelessness and I want no
nonsense - otherwise there are other little matters from this week that
Tamara could also deal with."

Letitia is magnificent.   Something in my voice has told her not to resist.   
She takes several deep breaths, controls her tears and lifts her lovely
head with all the tearful dignity of a princess consenting to be crowned.

"Yes, alright,"  she mumbles and turns towards Tamara.

"Come here, Letitia", says Tamara, failing completely to keep the glee
out of her voice.    At 21 Tamara is fully two years younger than Letty.   
She has always been jealous of her, envying Letty's natural elegance
and kindness, envying the fact that she is beautiful and everybody
loves her.   Tamara has often fantasised about humiliating Letty but
never in her wildest dreams did she seriously think she'd get a chance
like this. 

Letitia gets up, her head bowed and goes to Tamara who stands
waiting, her nose wrinkling in delight.    Letitia stands in front of her 
and Tamara smiles sweetly.

"I would like you to bend over, Letitia."

Letty puts on her humblest voice.

"Yes, I will, Tamara.   Over what?"

This throws Tamara a bit - she hadn't thought of that.   She looks
quickly around, including a nervous glance at me, and spots a chair.

"Over that," she says and makes an impulsive decision to try to regain
the upper hand.    "And, Letitia, I would like you to know that whatever
treatment you may be used to from my brother - I use a belt."

With that she unbuckles her own belt and draws it slowly from around
her waist.

"Are you sure?" says Letitia.    "It seems rather ... light."

Tamara stares at her in amazement.

"Just do what you're told," she snaps and pushes Letty over the arm of
the chair which tips dangerously.    

"Not really made for that sort of thing," I volunteer.    "Maybe it'd be
better round the front."

Stamping her foot with impatience Tamara waits while Letitia carefully
arranges herself at the front of the chair, bending over with her hands
flat on the seat.    She pushes her bottom out to make it specially round
for Tamara, who awkwardly tugs the red dress up to expose Letty's
lushious buttocks.    Instead of being content with what is offered she
then wrestles with the g-string for a moment, hauling it down to fall at
Letty's feet.

Now at last she steps back to survey her handiwork.    She picks up the
belt, hitches up her skirt, which is now unsupported and in danger of
sagging, and raises the instrument of Letitia's impending chastisement
high above her head.    For one breathless moment she feels the heady
thrill of one human being about to inflict serious discomfort on another
then she brings the belt whipping down.    Unfortunately it is too long 
- it insists on wrapping itself around the arm of the chair.

"Ouch", says Letty encouragingly.

"You could try winding it around your hand a bit."   I do my best to be
helpful.   "But it's really too ..."

But Tamara isn't listening.   She's wrapped it around her hand and
she's having another go.   The belt swishes through the air and lands
with a limp whack on Letitia's left buttock.

"Umm," says Letitia, a little unimpresed.

Now frustrated to screaming point Tamara casts her hopelessly thin
costume belt aside and goes for the hands-on approach.   She peppers
her target with the most fearful smacks she can muster, emitting little
cries with the effort.    But Tamara's inexperienced hands and
pampered muscles are no match for the wily contours of Letitia's oft-
paddled posterior.

"Well, what do you use then?"  she finally cries out, realizing that the
only discomfort her efforts are engendering is in her own tingling
fingers.

"Upstairs in the top drawer of the chest in our bedroom you will find
exactly what you are looking for."   

I can feel Letitia curling up inside at the thought of what she knows is in
the drawer but she has done well so far and she knows better than to
risk derailing a scheme of mine.

"It's a thick leather strap strengthened with whalebone," I continue.    "I
bought it off an old Scottish schoolteacher."

"Right!"    Confidence comes flooding back to Tamara.    She heads for
the stairs, pausing only to deliver new instructions to an anxious Letitia.

"And you, go and kneel until I get back!"

Tamara takes the stairs two at a time.   After a moment Letitia gets up
and pulls up her panties.  She looks at me with an unspoken question
in her eyes.    She is feeling I have betrayed her by telling my sister
about the strap just when she thought we were enjoying the joke of
Tamara's ineptitude together.

"Do as Tamara has instructed you, Letty."    Hot tears spring into her
eyes.    She bites her lip and goes, knowing resistance will be counter-
productive.   She kneels in the corner on the grains of rice and little
sobs punctuate the silence as we await Tamara's return.

The silence lasts rather longer than Letty would have expected but
eventually we hear Tamara's footsteps on the stairs.    She doesn't
bound down the stairs with quite the same exuberance as she mounted
them and when she comes back into the room she looks a little flushed
and worried but she does carry the wicked Scottish school strap.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

She ignores me.   Her voice is grim.

"Letitia, come here and get over that chair."

Letty ignores her.   Something in my voice has told her that Tamara is
finished.

"Letitia!"    Tamara is getting panicky.

"What else did you find?"

Tamara clenches her fists for a moment then turns to me snarling.

"Where did you get them?"

"They were passed to me by someone who apparently wasn't invited to
the party, Tamara.    She's quiet annoyed about it.    It seems that one
of the men involved was her husband and he was careless enough to
leave the evidence in his jacket pocket."

"Oh, God."

"Yes.    Well, worth blaspheming about.    Must have been quite a
party."

Tamara thinks quickly.

"I was drugged.    Someone put something in my drink.   I didn't know
what ... when I woke up ... "

"Shut up, Tamara.    Don't make it worse.   I think I can prevent
publication but ... "

"Publication!   What do you mean - publication?"   A note of terror was
entering her voice.

"She's sent them to the Gazette, my dear, of course she has - what did
you expect?   You've made yourself pretty unpopular in some quarters."

"You can get it stopped.   Promise me.   If Mum and Dad see these .... "

"Then you'd be in real trouble - quite.   Don't worry about that.   Worry
about this instead - it's time you grew up and I'm going to see you do.    
I will get it stopped but there is just no way you are going to walk away
from this, Tamara."

Tamara is going a little pale.

"What do you mean?"

I give her a few moments to let her sinking feeling sink in then I smile
and speak rather quietly.

"In the corner by Letitia is the box of rice, Tamara.   Perhaps you'd like
to fetch it for me."

Tamara's face is the stuff of dreams as full realization dawns.

"You can't!"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"    Letitia gives a kneeling leap of triumph which, given
the rice under her knees, she instantly regrets.

"No", wails my distraught sister, letting the strap slip from her fingers.

"As you can see, in spite of your ministrations, Letitia is still in need 
of a good spanking.   How fascinating it will be for you to find out how much
you have in common."

"You can't ... you can't do this to me."

"Well ... You do have a choice, Tamara."

She is trapped.   She is whimpering.  I begin to love her again.

"The rice, Tamara."

She just stands in the middle of the floor and sobs.   I  reach over and
pick up the strap.   Her eyes are round with fear.   She goes.

And this is how it went.

With Letitia's help she made two little pools of rice a few feet apart.   
Letitia knelt in hers immediately.    In fact I have never seen Letitia
approach a spanking with such enthusiasm.    She glowed with delight
as Tamara had to be told, after two failed attempts to kneel down, that
she would receive two extra strokes of the strap if she failed a third
time.

Next I had them lean together across the gap, their heads on each
others shoulders, their upper bodies pressing together.   In this
embrace both their hind quarters were pushed out - prominent, rounded
and very appetizing.    Moving into this position brought agonised
squeals from Tamara as her knees shifted on the rice and even Letty
had to bite her lip and take a deep breath.

I moved to a position behind Letty and gently lifted the red silk dress,
tucking it into the waistband of her g-string panties.     I left her 
g-string where it was - it had irritated me that Tamara had been so keen to
humiliate her older sister-in-law that she had failed to appreciate the
beauty of it.    The sight was breath-taking.    I could see Letty trying 
to glance behind her apprehensively so I sent a little shiver through her
body with a touch of the cold leather.    Knowing she was ready I drew
back and delivered two stinging strokes - one on each trembling
buttock.   She gasped and jerked convulsively with each stroke.  
Curiously it was Tamara who wailed, knowing that she would be next.  
Letitia wasn't trying anymore to conceal anything from Tamara - in fact
she was only too glad to enjoy her companion's mounting distress.  
However, instead of crying and pleading as she normally would, she
emitted a series of the most sensual moans I had ever heard from her.   
Two more strokes across buttocks and thighs and she was sounding
positively orgasmic, wailing and moaning right into Tamara's ear.   Her
hands were grasping the other girl's breasts and she was kissing her
neck and shoulders.

I was marvellously intrigued - was she really this turned on or was she
just putting it on for Tamara's benefit?    The more I spanked her the
more orgasmic she got until by the tenth stroke, in spite of floods of
tears, she was screaming for more.   I obliged with a couple across her
now crimson nether globes.    She either came or faked it, wailing
climactically for several seconds, then went limp almost falling over and
giving Tamara cause for another painful yelp as the rice ground into her
tortured knees.

After a few moments Letty, who must be the wickedest woman in the
universe, raised her tear-stained face to Tamara.   Her tongue was
between her open lips and her eyelids drooped in a warm post-
orgasmic glow.    She gave a slow sensual smile and murmured:   

"Your turn, baby."   

Then she kissed Tamara full on the lips.

My poor sister was now so confused she didn't know which of us to
fear most.    She was overtaken by silent sobbing which came from
deep inside and made her whole body shake.    Letty continued to kiss
and stroke her face, murmuring loving reassurances into her ear but
Tamara was now concentrating on me.

I wandered slowly behind her.   Her frightened sobs became louder as
she felt me delicately unzip her sagging skirt and let it fall to her knees.   
To her even more acute distress the next thing she felt was my fingers
in the waistband of her panties.

"No", she cried.   "Please not that.   You didn't take Letty's down ... "  
Her voice tailed up into a loud wailing.

"G-strings get pulled up - panties get pulled down,"  I explained.   
"Fundamental rules - attend your next spanking in a g-string."

I tugged her panties down to join her skirt, revealing her very pink
bottom and the even pinker little glimpse of her sex.    She cried loudly,
knowing she was completely exposed, and then even more loudly when
she felt the smooth Scottish leather caressing her most secret places.   
Thinking to do no more than warm her up, I gave her a couple of playful
swats across the buttocks and thighs - really the sort of thing that would
have brought no more than a sharp intake of breath from Letty.    Poor
Tamara, she wasn't used to this sort of thing.    She screeched and
leapt in the air, coming down painfully on the rice and collapsing
sideways in great anguish.

"Back up, Tamara.    Up immediately."

"No, I can't.   No!  Please don't make me."

"Tamara, you are going to be properly punished and this nonsense is
only making it worse for you.    Letty, deal with this girl.   Get her 
clothes off.   All of them"

Letitia hurried to Tamara's side and helped her to her feet.

"Come on, darling.   Let me help you out of these clothes."

Tamara cried harder but couldn't resist Letty who took away her skirt
and panties then helped her out of her blouse and bra.   When she was
completely naked Letty led her to the table.    With old stockings she
opened the trembling girl's legs and tied them to the legs of the table.   
Next she put a cushion on the table's edge and bent her over, tying her
hands to the other side.

"Thank you, Letitia," I said gently.    "Join her."

I thought Letitia was enjoying this just a little too much and would
benefit from  reinforcement.   She covered her bottom with her hands
for a moment and bit her lip.   Suddenly I knew that it had hurt more
than she had let on.   Tears filled her eyes but she turned without a
murmur, took off her dress and lay across the table next to Tamara.

There was something deeply sensual about the picture they presented.  
Two glowing bottoms, one already crimson and framed in a g-string, the
other trembling with a dark rosebud anus clearly visible and a little flash
of pink sex-lips.    With a deep sigh I raised the strap and brought it
down smartly on Tamara's soft thighs.   She howled and pulled at her
bonds which didn't give.   Again and this time on the thick under-flesh
of her buttocks followed by another in almost exactly the same spot.   
For variation I gave Letitia stinging strokes across each of her buttocks
and within moments both girls were wailing out loud and wriggling in
desperate agony.    I continued until both bottoms were equally red, the
Scottish leather warming to the task until both Letty and Tamara were
exhausted with crying.

When I felt they could take no more I stopped and let them rest while I
stroked away the stinging in their backsides.    As I expected Letty was
very wet and moaned as I touched her sex.   I continued to caress her
for a few minutes then I whispered to her to release Tamara.    She did
this, cutting the stockings with scissors, and gently we turned the
weeping girl over so that she lay on the table, staring at us with
frightened eyes, with the cushion under her sore bottom pushing her
sex out.

Letty got down on her knees and to Tamara's amazement she began
covering her downy thighs with soft kisses.    Soon Tamara was almost
involuntarily pushing her sex into Letty's waiting mouth feeling with
delight how easily the pain of her spanking translated to pleasure under
the influence of Letty's beguiling tongue.   Meanwhile I was perched
behind Letitia filling her supreme love niche and working her up to a
frenzy.   Only when we knew that Tamara was about to explode did we
finally let go, catapaulting all three of us to a whirlwind climax that
seemed to last for minutes.

Nobody spoke for a while after that.    We crawled on to the sofa
together and lay in each other's arms.   It had all been rather
exhausting for a Sunday afternoon.   Presently I got up and made them
a cup of tea.