Cassie

 

 

Once upon a time Cassandra Williams’ life had been completely normal.  She lived in a nice house, in a nice neighbourhood with her nice mum and dad.  She was a nice girl, with nice friends.  She attended a nice school, with nice teachers.

 

But then everything changed.  For ever.

 

Cassie was twelve when her parents split up. It had come as a total shock to her when her mother had sat on the edge of her bed one evening and told her that her father had fallen in love with another woman, and that he would be leaving them to go and live in Spain with his new lady friend.  Cassie had been distraught.  How could her lovely daddy do this? And why was he going to live in Spain?  So far away.  She‘d never see him again.  She had buried her head in her pillow and wept as bitterly as a twelve-year-old can that night.

 

When she woke the next morning she had a headache from all the crying.  And her daddy had gone.  Her lovely, darling daddy, who always made her laugh, who was always teasing her and telling her jokes.  He had left without saying ‘goodbye’.

 

In the months that followed her mother had become increasingly depressed, losing interest in life.  She didn’t go out, discouraged visitors and she had started to drink.  It had been the odd glass of wine at first.  Then a full bottle every night.  Then she had started on gin and whisky.

 

By the time Cassie reached the age of fourteen her mother was a hopeless drunk.  She lost her job.  Then the house had to be sold because she couldn’t repay the mortgage.  They had moved into rented housing on a rough estate.  Cassie hadn’t fitted in with the local youths.  They had teased her, called her names, made remarks about her mother being an alcoholic.  When she could take no more and stood up to them they had surrounded her and beat her.

 

Her face, such a pretty face her daddy had always said, had been bruised and marked by the vicious assault of the gang. Her nose had been hit so hard it had bled profusely.  Cassie had been sure it was broken.  She had fallen to the floor and curled into a ball, hopeful that they’d leave her alone, would go and savour their victory.  For a few brief moments she had dared to hope that it had worked.  And then she heard footsteps approach, and a harsh laugh had rung out.  Then the hand of a stranger had reached out and began to roughly manhandle her body.  She had thought perhaps the owner was looking for cash or other valuables, but then she had been horrified to feel the hand grope her breasts.  An unfamiliar male voice had announced “Nice tits.  Come and have a feel.”  And then several more hands had joined the assault, mauling her tender young breasts.  She had tried to fight them off, but then someone had taken hold of her hair, pulling it hard, jerking her head back with such ferocity she thought her neck would break.

 

She had instinctively reached behind her head to try to release the grip on her auburn locks, only for hands to grasp her sweat shirt, pulling it up, exposing her simple white bra.  The sweat shirt had then been pulled up over her face completely, blocking out any further view she might have had of her assailants.  More hands had started to pull at the waist band of her jeans.  She felt them start to descend over her hips.  She had curled up tightly, trying to fend off her attackers, desperate to prevent them from removing her jeans.  Her ankles had been grabbed and her legs pulled straight.  She felt her jeans slip over her hips at the same moment that she felt her bra being pulled roughly up to expose her breasts.  There were cheers from the crowd which now surrounded her.  She knew that her breasts were exposed for all to see.  Hands grabbed and mauled them, pinching her nipples painfully.  Then more pulling and a tearing sound as her knickers were ripped away.  She felt cool air between her legs, and the cold of the concrete floor on her bottom.

 

She screamed in panic, twisting and turning, desperate to escape.  A hand had been thrust between her legs, rubbing at the tender lips of her secret spot.  Her knees had been grabbed and forced apart, exposing her completely.  Then a finger had been pushed into her.  She had screamed again, begging them to stop.  Her sobbing had become hysterical.  And then suddenly, they stopped.  The hands which had been restraining and assaulting her simply let go.  As she lay terrorised on the floor, she was aware of the sound of footsteps retreating, and the sound of a number of boys laughing.

 

She had gathered herself together as quickly as she could.  Pulling her sweat shirt down to cover her breasts, she could see that her jeans had been forced down below her knees.  There had been no sign of her knickers, which she realised had been taken as a souvenir.  She had quickly covered herself up and ran home as fast as she could.  When she had arrived home her mother had been too drunk even to notice.  Locking herself in the bathroom, she had showered, washing her young body repeatedly.  When she had looked at herself in the mirror, she had wept bitter tears, not only with the pain of her injuries, but also with the feeling of utter humiliation.  Her breasts had been bruised by all the hands which had grabbed and pinched them.  They had been sore for days afterwards.  Every time she thought of those fingers violating her most secret places she would feel the panic rise again.  She had cried herself to sleep so many times.  Cassie stayed in after that, not daring to leave the house except for school and shopping trips.

 

Finally, the local social services department had become involved.  A woman had visited them one afternoon and had been appalled by what she had found.  The house was dirty, despite Cassie’s efforts to clean it.  Dirty clothes lay in piles around the house.  Her mother had been unconscious with drink at four o’clock in the afternoon.  An ambulance had been called, and her mother had been taken to hospital.  Cassie had been placed with foster parents for three days.  When the visitor came to see her, it was to tell her that her mother was seriously ill.  Her liver was close to collapse, and she would need treatment for several months.  It was unthinkable that she would be able to cope with bringing up a daughter until her health improved significantly.  Arrangements had been made for Cassie to go to live with her uncle and his family until such time as her mother’s health had improved.

 

Cassie had received this news with growing alarm.  She had only met her uncle once before.  He had come to visit soon after her dad had left and Cassie had felt decidedly uncomfortable at the way he looked at her.  He’d made comments about her body, how she was ‘starting to blossom’, noticing her developing breasts and hips.  He’d insisted that she give him a kiss when he arrived and when he left.  When she’d reluctantly done so, he had grabbed her and pulled her into a bear hug.  As he’d been leaving he had dropped his hands and given her bottom a squeeze.  Cassie had been too shocked to complain.  She had never forgotten though, how he’d made her feel awkward and uncomfortable.

 

Now she was to be packed off to another part of the country, hundreds of miles away, to live with an uncle she had seen once, and his family, who she had never met.  The Social Services woman had suggested that she see her mother before she left and Cassie had agreed at once, hoping that she could change her mother’s mind.

 

The meeting had been a nightmare.  Her mother had been sedated and looked truly awful.  She was painfully thin, her skin had an unhealthy, yellow tinge. She looked a good twenty years older than she really was.  Cassie had been crying from the moment she entered the room at the hospital.

 

It had taken her mother some moments to recognise her.  When she finally had, she too had begun to cry.  “Cassie, I’m so sorry my darling.  Please forgive me.  I know you don’t want to leave me, but it really is for the best you know.  Andrew is a nice man, and his family will look after you better than I could, I promise.  It won’t be for long love, just until I can get myself better.  You’ll do this for me, won’t you my darling?”

 

“Yes, Mum.  Of course I will.  I want you to get better, Mum.  I want that more than anything else in the world.”

 

“I want that too, darling.  I know you’ll be looked after well, but you must promise to try to fit in there.  Remember that it’s their home.  Please try to get on with them.  Uncle Andrew is in charge of you now.  You must do as he says.  You will do that for me, won’t you darling?”

 

“Yes Mum.  I will.  I promise.”

 

Andrew Walker was not in a good mood.  A couple of days ago he had received a phone call from Social Services telling him that his idiotic half-sister Amy had been taken into hospital, almost at death’s door.  She had drunk herself almost to death, and all over that pathetic waste of time she had insisted on marrying all those years ago.  He’d told her at the time, of course.  He’d seen him for what he really was, a chancer. 

 

Andrew and Amy’s parents had died in a car crash when Amy was nineteen.  When the estate had been finalised Amy had insisted on moving two hundred miles away to be with her new-found love.  They’d kept in touch at first, and Andrew had found the man she had chosen to be with shallow and annoying.  He was obsessed with money.  He knew the price of everything and the value of nothing.  Andrew could see at once what the attraction in Amy was; her money.  It had surprised him how long the sponging bastard had stayed around.  He’d fully expected him to disappear once the money had been spent.  Instead they had settled down in middle class suburbia, and Amy, who had always had ideas of grandeur, had revelled in the role of pillar of the community.  Andrew had despised it all.  Despised the ease of their life, the casualness of their spending, the lah-de-dah friends and lifestyle.  He had laughed out loud when she had phoned him to tell him of the arrival of their daughter, laughed at the pretentiousness of the name they chose; Cassandra.

 

In Andrew’s world there was no pretence.  He was a down-to-earth bloke, living in the real world.  No high flying for him.  He worked hard, bloody hard.  It had taken him years to build up his haulage business to the point where it was a success which gave him a comfortable, but not lavish, life.  His wife Susan and two children, Michael and Peter, knew the meaning of the word 'work’.  Not like that precocious little bitch his sister had spawned.  Nothing had been too good for her.  The finest of everything for ‘darling Cassandra’.  Private education, riding lessons, violin and piano, elocution, foreign languages, the works.  It had irritated Andrew beyond belief when his ‘airs and graces’ sister had phoned to tell him how well she was doing with her studies.

 

And then wonder-boy had left!  She’d phoned one night, in tears, telling him that he’d been having an affair.  He was leaving her for some bit of fanny who was probably as shallow as he was.  Poor little Amy was on her own again, just as he’d said she would be.  Only now, she had a daughter to bring up.  He’d visited, just to show he cared, and had been intrigued by the vivacious twelve-year-old who had greeted him at the front door.  Her slim young body had aroused him in spite of himself.  Her budding breasts, her slim hips, her shock of auburn hair.  Yes, she was going to be a right little prick teaser when she was older, he knew it.

 

Now he was driving south to collect the little madam.  Her mother in hospital for God knew how long, it was down to him and his family to raise her stupid sister’s kid until she dried out enough to do it herself.  The thought of the daughter caught in his mind.  She was twelve when he’d last seen her.  He worked it out quickly in his mind; she would be fourteen now.  The same age as his eldest.  She had been a pretty girl.  He wondered to himself how she would look after a couple of years living with an alcoholic and looking after herself. 

 

He pulled into the car park of the hospital, made his way to the ward where his sister was being treated.

 

He was genuinely shocked at her appearance.  She seemed to have aged dramatically.  Looking at her, he thought it unlikely she’d last another week.  The doctors had told him otherwise, assured him that with proper care and treatment she could make a complete recovery.  He became aware of the daughter, sitting in the corner of the room.  Cassie had blossomed since he’d last seen her.  At about five foot three tall, a pretty face, with pale skin typical of red heads.  A liberal smattering of freckles.  Her auburn hair was cut in a ‘bob’ style.  She was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a sweat shirt.  Even beneath her casual clothes, Andrew could see her slim body had developed over the last two years.  Her breasts looked round and firm, quite large for a girl of her age.  Andrew guessed she was a ‘B’ cup.  As she moved to stand at her mother’s bedside Andrew immediately noticed how graceful her movements were.  He also noticed the shape and curve of her small young arse.  He felt his cock twitch.

 

They talked for a few minutes.  Amy making him promise that he would look after Cassie.  Making Cassie promise that she would behave, and would do as she was told.  Then a nurse had entered the room and explained that they would have to leave, Amy was becoming tired out.

 

Cassie and Amy had said their tearful farewells, Andrew watching, unable to feel anything for his half-sister besides contempt, and unwilling to recognise the growing lust he was feeling for his fourteen-year-old niece.

 

They had left the hospital and driven back to the house, Cassie said nothing apart from giving directions through the traffic.  

 

Andrew was truly appalled by the state of the house, and by the area in which it stood.  “Jesus Christ, how could she live like this?”  He asked himself.  He sent Cassie off to get her things together, and she reappeared ten minutes later with two bags.

 

He threw the bags into the back of the car, anxious to be away from the depressing area, wanting to get home.  Throughout the long drive Cassie said virtually nothing.  “Good”, Andrew thought.  “The last thing I need is a mouthy kid.  She’d better not try any of those airs and graces with me, not unless she wants her backside punished.”  The thought of spanking that tight little bottom appealed to him greatly.  He’d never been one to shy away from punishing his own children.  Both boys knew that incurring Dad’s anger often meant being unable to sit comfortably for a few days.  He had used his belt on their behinds on a few occasions.  Now they knew better than to argue with him.  It would be better for Cassie if she learnt quickly that she must do as she was told.  Andrew didn’t expect any problems in that department, Amy had made the little brat promise in front of him to behave.

 

They had arrived at her new home late in the evening.  It was a large, rambling sort of place, which looked as though it might have been a farm house at some stage.  She had been introduced to her Aunt Susan, who looked at her with barely concealed contempt, and then her two cousins, Michael and Peter had come into the room.

 

Michael was about the same age as Cassie, but much taller.  Already at fourteen he was almost as tall as his father, with the same broad shoulders and powerful build.  He barely acknowledged Cassie’s existence.  Peter was pretty much the same.  Although only twelve, he too was tall, a good four inches taller than Cassie, who began to feel very small and insignificant.

 

Her uncle turned to the two boys, “Get Cassie’s bags out of the car and take them, and her, up to her room.”

 

“Her room?”  Michael had echoed.

 

“Yes, her room. And don’t you speak back to me unless you want me to get my belt.”

 

Cassie was frightened by them both.  Her cousin’s indifference, bordering on hostility, and her Uncle’s aggressive tone.

 

The two boys disappeared to fetch her bags, her uncle left the room, leaving her alone with her aunt.  She was a wiry, stern looking woman, with dark brown hair drawn tightly into a bun.  Her face looked as though it had never learned to smile, and her pale blue eyes narrowed as she looked at Cassie.

 

“Listen to me, young lady.  You are a guest in my house, and you will behave accordingly.  We have no passengers here.  You will pull your weight, like everyone else.  And you will do as you are told.  Is that clear?”

 

“Yes, Aunt Susan.”

 

“None of your airs and graces here, my girl. You might think you are better than us because of your fancy school, but if I catch you trying any nonsense here, I will make your life a misery. Got that?”

 

“Yes Aunt Susan.”

 

“Right.  There’s some supper on the table for you.  Unpack your things, eat up and off to bed with you.”

 

Cassie glanced at the clock; it was seven-thirty.

 

“But, Aunt Susan, it’s only half past seven.  I don’t go to bed until much …”

 

Before she could finish her sentence her aunt had slapped her harshly across the face.  Cassie gasped in shock.

 

“I don’t care what you do at home.  You’re in my home now.  You will do as you are told, remember. Your mother may be a useless alcoholic who lets you come and go as you please, but I do things differently.  Unpack your things, eat your supper and get off to bed.  Right?”

 

“Yes, Aunt Susan.”

 

Michael appeared at the door.  “This way Cassarndrar.” He said in mocking tones, imitating her accent.  “I’ll show you to your room.”

 

Still shocked from the encounter with her aunt, Cassie followed blindly.  She followed Michael and Peter silently as they struggled up the stairs with her bags.  Half way up Michael turned to her, “Don’t expect this all the time.  I’m not here to fetch and carry for you, y’ know.  In future, you can carry your own fuckin’ bags.”

 

“I know.  I’m sorry.”

 

They reached a small bedroom, and her bags were thrown onto the small bed.  She could feel their hostility.

 

“We don’t want you here, y’ know.  Thanks to you, I’ve got to move out of my room and sleep in his.”  Michael said aggressively.

 

“Yeah, that’s right.”, Peter chimed in, “We both lose out ‘cos of you.  We don’t care about your drunk mum.  Just remember, this is our house, and you’re not welcome in it.”

 

After they had left her alone, Cassie sat on her bed.  Tears began to flow.  She was thinking of her mother, so ill. So far away.  How was she going to cope with living with relatives she didn’t know, and who already hated her?

 

Her thoughts were interrupted by her aunt calling up the stairs.  “Get down here and eat your supper; unless you want to go to bed hungry.”

 

She descended the stairs wearily.  She found her way into the kitchen, where al four of then watched her suspiciously as she ate some bread and drank some milk.  When she had finished, she was ordered to bed.  As she climbed the stairs, she could hear them talking, clearly discussing her and her mother.

 

She unpacked her few clothes and belongings, then undressed and climbed into bed.  She hadn’t remembered to pack a night-dress, so she slept in her

T-shirt and knickers.  Despite her misery, she soon fell into a deep sleep.

 

She was awoken abruptly.  Her aunt was standing over her bed and yelling at her.  “What do you think this is, a holiday camp?  Get yourself out of bed, at once and get downstairs and help with the breakfast.”  The covers of her bed had been pulled off, leaving her shivering in the sudden chill.  She had got out of bed as quickly as she could and reached for her jeans.

 

“No time for that, get down stairs now.”

 

“But, I can’t go down like this, I’m not dressed.”

 

Another slap across the face.  “Do as you are told.”  Her aunt yelled.

 

She hurried down the stairs, acutely aware of her state of undress. As she entered the kitchen she could see her uncle and cousins waiting for her.  She blushed with embarrassment as they looked at her.  Dressed only in a T-shirt and knickers, she felt so vulnerable.

 

“Right, now you’ve decided to join us, make yourself useful. First thing, make some tea.  Then get busy making some toast. After that, you can clear the breakfast things away.  Come on, get a move on.”

 

She jumped at the barked orders, then tried her best to follow them.  She hurried around the kitchen trying to prepare the breakfast as they sat and watched her.

 

Andrew was enjoying himself.  The little bitch was scurrying around trying to please, her tight little arse covered only by the thin white cotton of her knickers.  At times he thought he could make out her auburn pubes through the fabric.  Her tits jiggled appealingly as she busied herself. He looked at his boys.  They were enjoying the spectacle.  Good for them!  It was good that they learned young that these little bitches were to be kept in their place!  Susan looked like she was enjoying herself too. A sly smile crept across her face every time the little red-head made a mistake.  She was brutal in her criticism, making fun of every error, every spill.

 

By the time she had finished making breakfast, Cassie was near to tears.  Nothing she had done was right.  Her uncle kept barking orders, her aunt was scathing about everything she did, and her cousins were laughing at her openly.  She had felt uncomfortable about not being dressed of course, but that had only been the start.  They had yelled at her, criticised everything she had done, called her stupid and useless.  She had noticed how her uncle had looked at her.  She had seen him staring at her knickers.  She felt like her skin was crawling.

 

She had been denied breakfast herself, her aunt had been very firm about that.  “If you want breakfast, get up earlier.  It’s your job to get things ready for the rest of us.  We come first.  If you can’t get things ready for us, you don’t deserve to eat.”

 

She had been made to clear the breakfast things away, still hungry.  Finally she had summoned up the courage to ask a question.

 

“Can I have a shower please, Aunt Susan?”

 

“Well, I suppose you’d better.  You smell awful. Why did you sleep in your clothes?  Is that the sort of dirty habit encouraged in your family?”

 

Cassie ignored the insult.  “I packed in a hurry.  I forgot to put in my pyjamas.  I’m sorry.”  Already, she was beginning to apologise for just about everything she did.  She felt so miserable, nothing was good enough, it seemed.

 

“Right, well, I’ll find one of your uncles T-shirts for you to use until we can get you something better.  Now get off to the bathroom and clean up.  And when you come down I want you dressed properly.  I don’t hold with girls wearing trousers.  You’ll wear a skirt.”

 

“But you wear trousers.  Why can’t I?”

 

This time her aunt backhanded her across the face.  “I’ve had just about enough of your cheek, you stuck up bitch.  Do as you are told.  I won’t tell you again.  Is that clear?”

 

“Yes, Aunt Susan.  But I don’t have any skirts.  They let us wear trousers at school, and so I never have to wear anything else.  I’m really sorry, Aunt Susan.”

 

“You brought your things for school, didn’t you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well, don’t you have a games skirt?”

 

“Yes, but it’s for games. I mean, it’s really short. It’s only supposed to be used for games, it’s not really a skirt for every day wear.”

 

“It will do for now.  When you get dressed, put it on.”

 

“Yes, Aunt Susan.”

 

Cassie went up to the bathroom and closed the door.  She carefully locked it behind her.  She hadn’t lived in a house with so many males in it before, and she was nervous.  She ran the shower until it was warm.  The water wasn’t going to get hot, she could tell.  She pulled off her T-shirt, pushed her knickers over her hips until they fell to the floor, and stepped into the stream of luke warm water. 

 

She lost herself in the pleasures of washing, rubbing the soap into a lather and enjoying the cleansing feeling as she washed her young body.  She rubbed shampoo into her auburn hair, relishing the time alone.

 

Andrew heard the bathroom door close and the shower begin to run.  He knew it was the pretty fourteen-year-old in the bathroom.  His wife and sons had both washed already, as had he. Now the little bitch was cleaning herself.  He waited until he could hear her under the stream of water. She was humming to herself as she showered.  He walked to the bathroom door, then silently opened it.  He had fixed the lock many years ago so that it was inoperative.  This had given him the opportunity to ‘accidentally’ walk in on a number of visiting female guests.  Of course he had always apologised profusely, seemed to be more embarrassed than the victim of his intrusion.

 

Now he stepped inside the bathroom and closed the door behind him.  The little bitch was standing under the jet of water with her back to him.  He took in the view of her juvenile arse, so tight, so small.  He wanted to molest it there and then. Her body was slim, her skin smooth.  She was so close to him, he could just reach out and touch her.

 

And then she turned around.  Her eyes were closed to protect them against the shampoo foam which ran down her face. He caught his breath.  Her tits were round and firm, high on her chest, capped by puffy, pink nipples.  Her pussy lips were just visible under the downy auburn hair between her legs. She was unbelievably fuckable!  He wanted to take her, wanted to abuse that sweet body.  He imagined her face as he raped her, imagined the look of sheer horror.  He smiled to himself.  No need to rush.  She’d be his in days.  Why not have some fun with her first.

 

“Are you going to stay in there all bloody day, or what?”, he yelled.

 

At the sound of his voice her eyes opened wide.  She was shocked beyond belief to see him standing there.  Her arms immediately flew to cover what he had already seen. One arm covered her ample tits, the other clutched at her downy covered clam.  She screeched in alarm at the sudden intrusion.

 

She crouched down, trying to hide her nakedness from him, blinded by the shampoo suds. 

 

“I, er, I’ll be done soon.  I’m nearly finished.  I won’t be long, I promise.  I’m sorry, I thought I’d locked the door.  Could you excuse me please Uncle Andrew.  I’ll be right out.”

 

“Well, I need to shave.  You just carry on and finish.  We don’t have any secrets in this house, Cassandra.  No locked doors here.  Now get on and finish up quickly, you’re using up all the hot water.”  He ordered.

 

He stood looking at her, arms folded.  It was clear he wasn’t going to move.

 

She felt humiliated beyond belief as she was forced to finish her shower with her uncle watching her.  She finished as quickly as she could, of course, but it was still long enough for him to have seen every inch of her.  She stepped out of the shower, wrapped herself in a tiny towel which hardly covered her modesty, and ran to her bedroom in tears.

 

Andrew grinned to himself.  She was so vulnerable she could be manipulated into doing anything.  Yesterday, she had hardly known him.  Today, she was showering in front of him.  She didn’t like it, but what did that matter?  His boys would learn a great deal practising on her.

 

Cassie collapsed on her bed, distraught.  She had been forced to carry on showering in full view of her uncle.  With the exception of the assault some moths ago, she hadn’t been seen naked by a man since she was a small child.  Now she had been seen by a virtual stranger, who had run his hungry eyes over her entire body.  The panic she had felt whilst being violated had returned in full measure. She felt humiliated and ashamed.

 

She lay on her bed, sobbing her little heart out, for several minutes.  Then she was brought out of her misery by a voice. 

 

“You better get yourself downstairs quick.  Mum wants you to clean the stairs. She told me to come and get you”

 

She shrieked in alarm as the realisation hit her that she was stark naked.  As she grasped for the towel she turned and realised that Peter, her twelve-year-old cousin had been watching her for God knew how long.  He had a mischievous smile on his face as he watched his older cousin desperately try to protect her modesty, clutching the towel to her as if it was her life support machine!  He had already seen enough of her to know that he would enjoy having her around.  Her naked pink little arse had stirred his juvenile cock into a raging erection.  Now he enjoyed her misery as she tried to cover up her nakedness.

 

“I’ll be right down.” She stammered.  “Tell Aunt Susan I’ll be right down.”

 

“Maybe I should wait.  Make sure you’re not messing around?”

 

“No!  I’ll be there in just a minute.  Please go and tell her. I won’t be a minute.  Please Peter.”

 

“No.  I’m going to wait.  She told me to come and get you.  You’d better get a move on, or she’ll be angry with you.”

 

He stared at Cassie defiantly.  He was determined that he wasn’t going to go away. Her was looking forward to the show!

 

“Look, Peter.  I’m just going to get dressed, then I’ll be right down.  You can tell Aunt Susan I’ll be there in a minute.  Please Peter.”

 

“No.  She said to go and get you.  I’d get ready real quick if I were you.  She doesn’t like being kept waiting.”

 

With a half sob, Cassie got up from the bed and started to get her clothes ready.  She found a pair of knickers, a T-shirt and her games skirt.  Then she turned to her cousin, who was still smiling at her.

 

“Would you excuse me please, while I get dressed?”

 

He looked at her with an arrogance beyond his years.

 

“I’m not going anywhere.  If I were you, I’d hurry up. She’ll be waiting.”

 

Cassie swallowed another huge sob, and admitted defeat.  She tried to keep the towel wrapped around her as she started to dress.  As she stepped into her knickers, the top part slipped, exposing one breast.  She blushed, and covered up as best she could.  She managed to pull on her knickers with one hand, wriggling her hips as they rode up her thighs. Peter was still enjoying himself, smiling broadly.

 

“Why are you so up-tight about this?  We’re all family, just get your kit on and come down.”

 

Cassie ignored him.  She wasn’t about to dress, or undress, in front of a younger cousin. She finally managed to get her knickers on, not without giving him several glimpses of her breasts as the small towel failed to cover her modesty.  She turned her back on the boy for a second and looked around for her bra.  She was confused for a moment.  It had been there a moment ago.

 

“Looking for this?”  Her tormentor asked.

 

She turned to face him and saw him dangling the garment in front of her.

 

“Give that to me.”

 

“No.  I want to have a look at them first.”

 

She gasped with shock and outrage.  She held the towel tight to her body.

 

“Peter, give it to me.  Please”

 

“Let me see them first.  Then you can have it.  Mum’s going to be really angry with you for taking so long.  I don’t think you want to take much longer.”

 

The thought of incurring her aunt’s displeasure was a frightening prospect. Her head dropped in shame.  She was defenceless, unable to defy any of them. They had beaten her before the fight had begun.  Totally demoralised, she let the towel fall to the floor, exposing her breasts to the lecherous twelve-year-old.

 

Peter couldn’t believe his luck.  He had been sent by his mother to tell Cassie that she was to clean the stairs.  He had opened the bedroom door to find his cousin naked on the bed.  She had been lying face down, sobbing quietly.  He had taken his chance to have a good look at her arse before he’d delivered the message, then he’d just enjoyed watching her trying to cover her nakedness.

 

He’d been lying when he’d told her he’d been sent to get her.  He’d only been told to give her the message, but she’d believed it so readily. He’d found it amusing the way she had tried to get him to leave the room.  If she’d just told him to go, he would have done.  But she was so scared of them all, she didn’t dare.  Instead, he was able to frighten her into getting dressed right in front of him.  It had been fun watching her trying to pull on her knickers with one hand, the other clinging to the small towel.  His small cock had twitched when her nipple had peeped out of the top of the towel, and he had smiled at her embarrassment.  Then he had taken his chance.  Whilst she had been looking away he had grabbed hold of her bra.  He hadn’t expected her to give in so easily, but when he had threatened her with his mother’s anger, he had seen how easy it would be to dominate her.  His cock throbbed in his trousers as she had dropped her towel.  They were the first pair of tits he had seen, and he had almost climaxed on the spot as he stood staring at them.

 

“Cool!  You have to promise to let me see then whenever I want.  Otherwise, I’ll keep you here for ages, and she’ll kill you. Deal?”

 

She nodded her head, unable to speak.  Misery consumed her.

 

Peter threw her bra to her and left the room snickering to himself. 

 

She had taken a few moments to compose herself.  It had amazed her how much this family scared her. She had been with them for less than twenty-four hours, but already she was terrified of both her aunt and uncle.  He was so strong, so in control.  She was so hard.  So brutal.  She had hit her three times already.  Cassie had never been struck before, and the experience had shaken her to the core.  She felt as though she had lost herself somewhere.  She was no longer in control.  She had nothing.  She had promised her mother she would do as they said, but surely, her mother hadn’t meant for her to accept this kind of abuse?  She resolved to fight.  She wouldn’t let them defeat her.  Then she heard her aunt yelling up to her.

 

“Get down here, you lazy bitch.  There’s work to be done.”

 

Her resolve had evaporated at once.  She quickly put on her bra, followed by a T-shirt and her games skirt, and ran down the stairs, anxious to avoid further reprimand.

 

She had been given her orders.  She was to clean the stairs by hand, using dust pan and brush.  She had set to at once.  Her uncle and cousins came by from time to time to watch her.  They stood at the foot of the stairs, criticising. She knew that they could see up her short skirt.  Knew that was why they were watching her.  She couldn’t do anything about it.  As she bent over, sweeping, she could feel their eyes as they took in the sight of her thin white knickers under her grey skirt.  She felt dirty, but was powerless to do anything about it.

 

“When you’ve done that, you can clean the boys room.  Get a move on.”  Her aunt was proving a hard task master.

 

As she reached the top of the stairs, Peter approached her.  The others were downstairs, she could hear them talking.

 

“Let’s see them then.”

 

“No, Peter, please.  Please don’t do this.”

 

“You promised.  If you don’t keep your promise, I’ll get you.  Believe it.  I’ll find some way of getting you back.  You’ll be sorry.”

 

Instinctively, she believed him.  There was something about this family that frightened her to the core, all of them.  She wanted to run away, but she had promised her mother.  She was trapped.  Now this horrible boy was taunting and tormenting her. She was scared of what he might do if she defied him.

 

“Please, Peter.  I can’t.  Please.  Don’t make me do this.”

 

“I want to see them.”

 

A tear escaped from the corner of her eye, rolling down her cheek.

 

“Do it now.”  He shouted.

 

“OK.  OK.  Please keep your voice down.”  She said anxiously.  She hated to think what her aunt and uncle would do if they became involved.

 

“Well?”

 

She took a deep breath, then reached for the hem of her T-shirt.  Grasping it with both hands she quickly lifted it, exposing her bra to the amused boy.

 

“Carry on.”  He ordered.

 

She felt for the cups of her bra, then lifted them to expose her breasts once again to his fascinated gaze.  She looked at his face as he stood back to admire the view.  She closed her eyes in misery and shame.

 

“I want to feel them.”

 

“No!  No, Peter.  You can’t.  I’ve kept my promise.  That’s enough isn’t it?”  She quickly pulled her bra back into place and dropped her T-shirt.

 

“No.  It’s not enough.  I want to feel them.  If you don’t let me, I’ll tell mum you flashed your tits to me to get me to do your cleaning work..  She’ll believe me as well.  She hates you.  Well; what’s it going to be, then?”

 

Cassie suffered a life time’s agony in the space of a few moments.  She was truly frightened of what her aunt would do to her.  She didn’t doubt what Peter had said was true.  Her aunt did hate her, and would believe anything Peter said against her.  She felt her lower lip tremble as she bowed her head.

 

“Get them out then.”

 

She began to cry as she lifted her T-shirt once more, then she pulled her bra up over her breasts and let her hands hang limply by her sides.  She closed her eyes as her younger cousin stepped closer.  Then his hands were squeezing her breasts.  It reminded her of the assault.  Then it had been total strangers, now it was a member of her own family, someone she knew, would have to face time and time again.  It was infinitely worse.  She felt panic and shame rising in her.  Then he started to pinch her nipples.

 

“Owwww! Stop Peter, you’re hurting me. Oh! please stop.”

 

She looked into his face, a malicious smile had spread across his young face.  She could see that he was not only enjoying feeling her breasts, he was enjoying humiliating and hurting her too.

 

After what seemed like hours, but was in fact only a minute or two, he stopped.  By now her face was tear stained and her nipples were throbbing painfully.  “OK, you can put them away now.  But next time, get them out right away when I tell you.  Got that?”

 

When she didn’t answer at once he grabbed her nipple and twisted it causing hot pain to shoot through her breast.  She gasped with the pain and almost cried out.

 

“Ahhhh.  Yes, Peter, yes.  I’ll do what you say.  Please stop.  Please let me go.”

 

He pulled at her nipple, then let go suddenly.  She put her hand over it protectively, biting her lip in pain and anguish.  Then she heard footsteps on the stairs below them and she quickly pulled her bra and T-shirt back into place.  She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, and tried to look busy.  Peter grinned at her, winked, and said “See you later.”  Then ran downstairs.

 

The footsteps she had heard belonged to her uncle.  As he drew level with her he looked at her with contempt.  Noticing her red eyes and tear stained face he barked “What’s the matter with you then?”

 

“Nnnnothing.”  She stammered.  “I’m just finishing here.”

 

“Good.  When you’ve done that, you can clean the boy’s room.  Get a move on then.”  And he gave her a crisp smack to her bottom.  She squealed in alarm, dropping the dust pan and it’s contents on the floor.

 

“You clumsy bitch.  Clean it up. Now.”

 

she immediately dropped to her hands and knees and began to sweep the dust back into the pan.  As she did so, he was rewarded with a clear view of her small white knickers as her short skirt rode up over her tight little arse.  He stood and watched her for several minutes, enjoying the view, and smiling to himself at her evident fear of him.

 

“Get your jobs done quickly, or I’ll give your backside something to think about.”

 

“Yes, Uncle Andrew.  I’m sorry.” She sniffed.  She kept her head down, working as hard as she could to clean up the mess, hoping he would leave her alone.

 

Eventually, she had finished clearing up, and he had left her alone at the top of the stairs.  Her heart was racing.  Everything was terrifying and intimidating to her.  She wondered what they would do to her next. 

 

Her aunt gave her a vacuum cleaner and told her to clean Michael and Peter’s room next.  She struggled up the stairs with the heavy device, and went into the room.

 

“Hey!  Fucking knock before you come in here bitch.”  Michael was lying on his bed, wearing just his underpants and a T-shirt. 

 

“Sorry.  I thought you were downstairs.  Shall I come back later?”

 

“No.  Get on with what you’ve got to do, just be quick about it.”

 

She started to clean the carpet, aware of his malicious eyes on her at all times.  She was trying to get the job done quickly but his scrutiny made her nervous and clumsy.  She knocked over a small table, spilling a selection of magazines onto the floor. Without being told she immediately dropped to her knees and began to pick them up.  When she saw the subject matter of some of them she blushed with shock.  Her cousin’s collection of porno mags were the first of their kind she had ever seen.  She stared at them in surprise, unaware that her skirt had ridden up again, and her cousin was enjoying the same view as his father a few minutes before.

 

Michael felt his cock twitch as Cassie bent over to pick up his magazines, inadvertently displaying the crotch of her knickers to him.  Absent mindedly he began to rub his cock, imagining what her pussy would look like, how it would feel, what it would be like to fuck her.

 

At that moment both Cassie and Michael were startled out of their private thoughts when Peter burst into the room.  Peter stopped for a moment and took in the scene.  Cassie was on her hands and knees staring at some magazines on the floor, Michael was being treated to a view up her skirt.  He grinned to himself.

 

“What the fuck do you want?”  Michael demanded.

 

“Nothing.  Mum and Dad have gone off to the shops.  They said they’ll be back in about an hour.  Hey! Wanna see something really good?”

 

“What?”

 

“OK Cassie, get them out.”

 

Cassie instinctively folded her arms across her breasts, got quickly to her feet and tried to make for the door.  As she approached Peter he swung his hand, catching her across the face.  She gasped in shock and pain and staggered back.

 

“You don’t fuckin’ listen, do you.  I said, get them out.”

 

“What the fuck are you doin’, idiot?”  His brother snapped.

 

“Just watch.  Get on with it then.” He barked at Cassie.

 

She slowly got to her feet, scared.  She wanted to cry, but she knew it would do her no good.  Instead, she pleaded, begged, whined.  Peter wouldn’t relent.

 

“Do you want me to knock you about some more?”

 

“No!  No, please Peter.  I’ll do it.  Don’t hit me again.”

 

“Do what?  What’s she going to do Pete?”

 

“Show Mikey.”

 

Cassie’s lower lip was trembling.  Her heart was beating fast.  She stood, rooted to the spot and very slowly took hold of the hem of her T-shirt.  She began to lift it, higher and higher.  As her bra was exposed, Michael let out a hiss of tension.  “Fuckin’ hell.”

 

She paused as she bunched the T-shirt up round her neck.

 

“Get on with it.” Peter shouted.

 

She closed her eyes, bit her lip and lifted her bra up and over her breasts in one movement.

 

Michael sat completely still on his bed, stunned and fascinated.  He stared at Cassie’s  tits, round and firm, with puffy pink nipples.  He was amazed when his kid brother calmly walked over to her, stood behind her, then reached round and began to cup and fondle the pink globes.

 

“Good eh?”  Peter asked.

 

“How the fuck did you get her to do that?

 

“Easy.  She’s just a little slut really.  Likes getting them out and showing them off.  Right, Cassie?”

 

His fingers had closed on her nipples. She remembered how he had pinched and twisted them so painfully earlier.  She knew if she didn’t humour him, he would do the same again.  She nodded, silently.

 

“Well, I think I’ll have a go as well.”

 

Michael walked over and began to grope her tender breasts.  He teased and tickled her nipples, and she felt them getting hard.

 

“She’ll get them out whenever you like.” Peter said, happily.

 

“Cool.  What else does she do?”

 

Cassies eyes opened in fear.  Michael was looking at her lecherously.

 

“Dunno.”

 

“Well, why don’t we find out?  Right, bitch.  Come over here and give me a hand job.  I think you owe it to me for getting me so horny.”

 

Cassie looked confused.  “I don’t know what that is.”  She confessed.

 

“Come over here and I’ll show you.” Michael grinned.

 

She didn’t feel as though she had a choice, so she followed him over to his bed.  He lay down on it and motioned for her to lay beside him.  She shook her head vehemently, her jaw clamped shut in fear.

 

“I wont tell you again.”  He growled.

 

With her breasts still exposed, she reluctantly lay down next to him.  He took hold of her hand and pushed it down the front of his underpants.  She tried to pull her hand away.  He quickly caught hold of her round the throat, his face close to hers.

 

“Listen bitch.  Do this, or I’ll hurt you real bad.”

 

She let him push her hand into his underwear again.  He made her wrap her fingers around his cock, which was now hard and throbbing. She had never even seen a cock before, let alone touch one.  She felt sick.  The shaft felt hot to her touch. Then he began to pump her hand up and down.

 

“Keep doing that until I come.” He instructed.

 

She kept on wanking his hard cock, tears falling from her eyes. He began to stroke her breasts again, then groaned with pleasure.  She was suddenly aware of a hot sticky fluid spurting from his cock.  She knew about sperm from her biology lessons, and she had heard other girls talking about it, but she was still unprepared for the sensation of the cock in her hand pulsing and spurting over her skin.

 

After a few moments, he put his hand over hers, making her stop.  She let go of the now shrinking organ and pulled her hand away.  She looked at her hand.  A pearly-white liquid was sticking to her skin.  She shuddered with revulsion.

 

“Fuckin’ great!  Do me, do me!”  Peter was shouting as he unfastened his trousers and went over to his own bed.  Cassie reluctantly got up and walked over to him.  She lay next to him, and without further urging she put her hand into his underwear and found his stiffening cock.  She started to wank him, squirming as he began to play with her breasts.  After just a few moments, he too climaxed, shooting more of the sticky liquid onto her hand.

 

As his breathing slowed, a smug grin spread over his face.  “I think I’m getting to like having you here.  You do have some uses then!”

 

She was too miserable to reply.

 

“Well, you know what to do next time I want a hand job, don’t you bitch?”

 

She nodded.  She felt defiled.  She couldn’t believe she had been made to do that.  She knew she was too scared to refuse them in future.  There was no telling what they would do to her if she did. 

 

“Can I go now, please?”

 

Michael considered her request. 

 

“Yes; but lift up your skirt and show us your knickers first.”

 

She felt numb.  She was too stunned by the events of the afternoon to argue.  As if in a dream she stood up and raised her skirt, exposing her small white knickers to the two boys.  Her face flushed with embarrassment.  She was ordered to turn around slowly so that they could have a good look. As she did so she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.  Her breasts were still exposed, her face bright red and she was holding her skirt up high for the amusement of her tormentors.  She started to sob, then ran from the room with their laughter ringing in her ears.  She threw herself on her bed and sobbed bitterly.

 

Some time later she heard her aunt and uncle returning.  Her aunt called out for her at once.

 

“Coming Aunt Susan.”  She called as she ran down the stairs.

 

“Get out to the car and bring in that shopping.” Her aunt snapped.

 

She went out to the car and began to unpack the shopping bags.  Her uncle stood nearby, talking to another man.  Cassie had to bend and lean forward to reach the shopping bags, and she felt the cool breeze catch at her skirt and lift it.  Unable to do anything about her shame, she turned with hands full of shopping and was dismayed to feel the wind lift her skirt again.  She knew that both her uncle and the other man were watching, and enjoying her embarrassment.

 

She made several journeys to and from the car, and knew that almost every time her white knickers had been displayed to the all male audience.  She almost didn’t care any more. After the ordeal her cousins had put her through, accidentally showing he knickers briefly to two adult men was no big deal, but she felt her face blush, and hurried to get inside as quickly as she could.  As she lifted the last bags from the car she heard her uncle call to her,  “When you’ve taken those in, come back out here to me.”

 

“Yes Uncle.”

 

She deposited the bags and returned to stand in front of her uncle and his companion.

 

“Like showing off you knickers, do you?”

 

She blushed again.  “I’m sorry Uncle, the wind caught my skirt.  It was an accident.”

 

“I can’t feel any wind, can you Phil?”

 

The other man grinned at her mischievously.

 

“Not a breath of wind all day, Andy.”

 

“No, I agree.  This is the one I’ve been telling you about.  All airs and graces. Thinks she’s better than the likes of us.  Does nothing around the house unless you call making a mess being useful.  Struts around with that tiny little skirt on, showing off what she’s got to anyone. Came down to breakfast this morning without even that on.  Flouncing around in her knickers, brazen as you like.”

 

“That’s not true!  Aunt Susan made me come down like that.  She wouldn’t let me get dressed. And then she made me wear this skirt.  It’s the only one I’ve got, and I know it’s too short, but it’s a games skirt, it’s meant to be short.”

 

Her uncle’s face darkened at her outburst.

 

“So it’s all your Aunt’s fault is it?  You ungrateful little bitch.  She’s never even thought to say thank you to us for taking her in, you know.  Not a word of thanks, after I drove hundreds of miles to bring her here.  And you should have seen the squalor she was living in, Phil.  Jesus Christ, I wouldn’t keep a dog in those conditions.  And when she gets here all she does is swan around the house doing bugger all.  Then it’s all Susan’s fault.  I’ve a good mind to teach you a lesson you won’t forget.  Come here.”

 

And with that he grabbed hold of her arm in a painful grip and began dragging her towards the house.

 

“All my sister’s fault, this Phil.  She was always a bit posh. Always thought herself better than the rest. Time we taught her a lesson then.”  

 

“Want to see the stuck up bitch taken down a peg or two Phil?  Follow me.”

 

Phil followed eagerly.  Cassie tried to resist.  She tried pleading.  She tried apologising.  All to no avail.  Her uncle dragged her into the house, with Phil following close behind.

 

The noise of all the shouting brought Michael and Peter running down the stairs.  Cassie was dragged into the kitchen, where her uncle sat in a high backed wooden chair and pulled her across his lap.

 

“I’ll teach you to be more grateful, you little tart.”  He growled.

 

Cassie’s hands were held together high on her back, forcing her head down towards the floor.  Then she felt her skirt being lifted.  She suddenly realised what was about to happen and began to wail miserably.

 

“No, please Uncle Andrew.  I’m sorry.  It won’t happen again.  I’m sorry I was rude to you, I really am, please Uncle.  Let me go, oh!, please don’t hurt me uncle.”

 

Her words caught in her throat as she felt her knickers being pulled down. Her bare bottom was thrust up as her head was pushed down.  She started to kick with her legs, writhing around desperate for escape.

 

“Michael, get hold of her legs and keep them still.”  Her uncle ordered.  She felt strong hands grab her ankles, forcing her legs straight.  And then the blows started.

 

The first one made her scream loudly.  It stung her little bottom.  Then she was being smacked repeatedly.  She felt her skin start to burn. The pain and humiliation was almost unbearable.  She lost count of the number of smacks she received.  After a while she was too ashamed and exhausted to scream.  She whimpered after each blow, sobbing quietly to herself the rest of the time.

 

At last, he had finished.  The hands holding her legs and her arms released their grip, and she fell to the floor, still sobbing.  Instinctively, she reached down and began to rub the cheeks of her sore bottom.

 

“None of that.  Get in the corner, hands on your head, and stay there until I tell you you can move.”

 

She climbed wearily to her feet and shuffled over to the corner.  As she did so, she reached down and started to pull her knickers back up.

 

“Oh no you don’t young lady.”  Her aunt barked.  “I’ll show you what happens if you don’t behave in my house.”  And with that, her skirt was lifted again, and tucked into her waist band.  Then her knickers were pulled down to her knees.

 

“Right.  Stay there.”  Her aunt snapped.

 

She could feel the heat from the spanking on her bottom.  She could also feel the burning of shame and humiliation on her face.  Tears ran freely down her cheeks.

 

They all stayed in the kitchen, carrying on as if nothing were unusual or out of place.  Her uncle and Phil enjoyed a beer, the two boys drank one between them.  After about ten minutes her uncle said, “Have you learned your lesson then?”

 

“Yes Uncle.”  She said in a quiet voice. 

 

“Come here.”

 

She shuffled forward and stood before her uncle.

 

“I think you owe an apology, don’t you?”

 

“Yes, Uncle.  I’m really sorry I was rude.  It won’t happen again, I promise.”

 

“I think you owe Mr. Jones here an apology too, don’t you?”

 

She moved to stand in front of her uncle’s companion, head bowed, and said “I’m sorry, sir.  I won’t behave like that again.”

 

“I should think so too.  You should be a lot more respectful to your aunt and uncle, after they’ve done so much for you.”

 

“Yes, sir.  I will be.

 

“I think you should make her stay like this for the rest of the day, Andy.  Just so she remembers in future.”

 

“Good idea, Phil.  You can stay like that, with your punished arse on show, for the rest of the day.  Is that clear?”

 

“Yes Uncle.”  She felt tears spring to her eyes again.  She sniffed them back, determined not to provoke him further.

 

“Well, you can’t wander around with your knickers round your knees all day, can you?”  Mr. Jones said with a chuckle.  “You’d best give them to me.”

 

The rest of the family laughed at her as she let her knickers drop to her ankles, then bent and picked them up before handing them to the lecherous Mr. Jones.  He calmly folded them in half and put them into his jacket pocket.

 

“Well, I must be going.  Thanks for the laugh Andy.”

 

“Any time, Phil.”

 

And with that, he left, still with her knickers in his pocket.  She wanted to object, but knew better.  Instead, she started to clear away the glasses which lay on the table.

 

Her aunt and uncle left the kitchen, as did Peter.  Before Michael left her to her tasks, he leaned in close to her, reached out and grabbed both breasts before saying, “I saw your pussy.”

 

“What?”

 

“I saw your pussy.  When Dad was smacking your arse, I held your legs, and I could see right up between them.  Nice ginger pussy.  Cute.  Mum and Dad are going out tonight.  I’m going to have another look at it then.  Just so you know.”

 

Alone in the kitchen, she was over come with misery.  The abuse she had suffered showed no signs of relenting.  Quite the opposite, her cousin had just declared the intention of violating her further.  She knew there was no escape.  There was nothing she could do.  As if in a dream, she carried on clearing away and started to prepare the evening meal.

 

At meal time, she was made to serve the food, still with her skirt tucked up , exposing her bottom, which was still red from the earlier punishment.  As she served her uncle’s meal, he reached up and stroked her bottom, saying “Still sore, I see?”

 

She flinched but resisted the urge to move away,  “Yes, Uncle, a bit.”  She said in a small voice.

 

“Teach you to remember then won’t it.”

 

No one spoke to her throughout the rest of the meal.  After they had finished eating, they all left Cassie to clear away and wash up.  As she was washing the dishes Michael approached her again.  This time her ran his fingers over her sensitive bottom.  She didn’t move, all resistance was ebbing from her with each passing assault.

 

“They’re going out soon.  Once they’ve gone, I’m going to have another look at your little ginger pussy.  You’re going to have to show it to me, you know.  You’ll see.” 

 

She screwed her face up in misery and began to cry, quietly to herself.

 

Some minutes later Cassie and her cousins were summoned to the living room, where her uncle spoke to the three of them.

 

“Right.  We’re off out for the night.  You lot had better behave yourselves, or you’ll be sorry.  Michael, you’re in charge.  Anything goes wrong, you’re to blame.  And you two.”  He spoke to Cassie and Peter, “Any nonsense out of either of you and you won’t sit down for a month.  Is that clear?”

 

“Yes Dad.”

 

“Yes Uncle.”

 

“Michael is in charge.  If he tells you to do something, you’d better get on with it, or I’ll make you pay, right?”

 

They both nodded.

 

“We won’t be back until late, so I’ve asked Mr. Jones to look in on you later on.  Make sure you don’t give him any cause for complaint, or else.”

 

Michael and Peter watched from the door as their parents drove away.  Cassie waited silently in the living room.  She knew that the next few hours would be a torment.  The thought of what her two cousins would do to her was enough to make her shudder with fear.  She heard the front door close, and their footsteps approaching.  They both entered the living room, looking at her like she was a prize for them both to play with.

 

“You heard what Dad said, right?  I’m in charge.  You both have to do what I say, or you’ll get it from Dad tomorrow. Understand?”

 

“Cut the crap Mickey, let’s have some fun!”  Peter yelled.

 

 

 

$$

 

Michael grinned.  “Right then, bitch.  Get them out.  Only this time, take your top off completely.  I want to have a good look.”

 

Feeling like a cornered animal she started to remove her T-shirt.  She knew that if she didn’t comply with all their instructions, they would make up some appalling story to tell her aunt and uncle, which would see her humiliated further.  She dropped her T-shirt on the floor, then reached behind her to unclip her bra.  She let it fall also, then stood in front of them, head bowed, arms hanging limply at her side.

 

“Fair play, cousin, you’ve got a lovely pair of tits.  Now, I said I was going to have another look at your ginger pussy, so get rid of the skirt and let’s have a look at you.”

 

“Please Michael.  Please don’t make me do this.”

 

“Can you imagine what Dad will do if I phone him on his mobile and tell him you’re playing up already?  He’ll have the skin of your arse!  Do you really want me to do that, bitch?”

 

“No Michael.  Please don’t.”

 

“Then get rid of the skirt.”  He said calmly.

 

Tears started to run down her face again as she slowly unfastened the clasp of her skirt and let it fall to join the rest of her clothing on the floor.  She held her hands in front of her, trying to protect what little modesty she had left.

 

“Hands down, and come over to me.”  Michael ordered.

 

She dropped her hands and slowly walked the three or four feet over to him.  Standing directly in front of him she could see him staring at her pubic hair.  She felt sick.  Her heart was racing.

 

“Very nice.  Very pretty.  Go and show Pete then.”

 

She turned and walked over to her younger cousin, who was grinning openly.

 

They both took it in turns to examine her most secret place.  Then Michael made her lay across his lap, face up, and began to explore her virgin pussy.  She closed her eyes in dismay as she felt his fingers squirming between her thighs.  He made her open her legs wide so her could “See the lot.” 

 

Then he pulled her lips apart and put his head between her thighs, examining her inner pussy closely.  Her ran his fingers up and down her dry slit, trying to push a finger into her cunt, giving up when he found it too dry and tight.  Then he noticed her clit.

 

“Hey, what’s this?”  He said aloud, and began to tease and tweek the sensitive organ.  She groaned in misery. 

 

“What do you call your pussy?”

 

“I don’t have a word for it.”

 

“Yes you do.  I bet you do.  All girlies have a word for it.  Come on, tell me what you call it.”

 

“My foo.”

 

They both shouted with laughter.  “’Foo?’  What the fuck is a ‘foo’?”

 

She tried to blot out what was happening to her.  Unfortunately, Michael’s attention to her clit was starting to get to her.  She had played with herself on a few occasions, and knew how sensitive it could be.  Now strange feelings began to radiate from her clit.

 

“And what do you call this?”

 

“My button.”

 

“What is it?”  Peter asked, eagerly. He was watching what his brother was doing with fascination.

 

“Tell him.”  Michael ordered.

 

“My clitoris.”  She said.  She felt so dirty, as though it was her fault.

 

“What’s it for?”

 

“Watch this.”  Michael began to rub it slowly, pushing back the hood and concentrating on the super-sensitive head.  Cassie whimpered.  She put her hands over her face to hide her shame.

 

“Fuckin’ hell!  She likes it!  Let me have a play with it.”  Peter eagerly took his brother’s place, rubbing her sensitive bud.  His actions were fast and hard.  She heard a moan escape from her mouth, felt her breathing quicken.  She blushed deeply.  Michael began to stroke her breasts, paying attention to her nipples, which began to stiffen.  She couldn’t believe the feelings coursing through her body.

 

They changed places again.  Peter started to stroke her breasts, occasionally pinching her nipples.  Strangely, she didn’t find this as painful as before.  Michael ran his fingers over her clit in small circles.  Then he ran his fingers down the entire length of her slit.  Her slipped a finger into her hot hole.

 

“Fuck me!  She’s soaking wet.”

 

She felt shame burning her face.  Peter wanted to feel too.  Her pushed a finger deep into her, making her squirm around on Michael’s lap. Michael continued to torment her clit whilst Peter buried a finger deep into her.  And then she felt waves of pleasure crash onto her as she experienced the first orgasm of her life.  Both boys let go of her and watched, Michael with fascination, Peter with fear as at first he thought she was having some sort of seizure!

 

“What the fuck was that?  What’s wrong with her?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong with her, dummy.  She just got off, that’s all.”

 

Cassie had curled up into a ball, consumed with shame and humiliation.  She’d thought it couldn’t get any worse when they’d made her undress in front of them.  Then she’d been spread-eagled on Michael’s lap while he amused himself by playing with her most secret place and made her name it out loud.  But then her body had betrayed her, had allowed her to be tormented until she had suffered the ultimate shame.  She wanted to die.

 

“What a hot little bitch you are, aren’t you?  You really got off on that, didn’t you?  Didn’t you?”

 

Cassie sobbed some more.  Michael grabbed hold of her hair and yanked her head back cruelly.  “I asked you a question.”

 

“Yes.” She sobbed.  “Yes I got off on it.  You made me do that.  Are you happy now?  Will you leave me alone now?”

 

“Not a chance.  I haven’t had mine yet, and I may want to have another play with your pussy.  Get up and come over here.”

 

She lifted herself off the floor where she had fallen after her climax and walked over to Michael.  He had already opened his trousers, and his stiff cock was standing proudly.  He sat on a sofa, smiled at Cassie and said, “You know what to do.”

 

She sat beside him, reached out and took his cock in her hand.  The feel of it wasn’t such a shock as before.  She noticed how smooth it was, how warm and rigid.  She was fascinated by the way the foreskin slid so easily up and down.  She noticed how she could affect him by changing the speed or the depth of each stroke of her hand.  She noticed a small drop of clear fluid seep from the opening.  On an impulse, she ran a finger through it, then smeared it over the head of his cock.  Michael groaned with pleasure.  She held his shaft tightly, wanking his cock with long firm strokes, increasing the speed.  Suddenly, he gasped and shot stream after stream of sticky semen onto her hand.  She was suddenly aware of how hot it felt on her skin.  She began to squeeze his cock in time to the spurts.  He groaned again.  Finally, he subsided, and fell back onto the sofa, gasping for breath.

 

“Fuckin’ hell, that was good.”

 

She surprised herself by smiling at him. He smiled back, and suddenly, they were both laughing.

 

“What’s so fuckin’ funny?” Peter demanded.  This seemed to amuse them even more, and they both fell together, laughing hysterically.

 

“Hey, what about me.  I want mine now.”  Peter insisted.  Without complaint Cassie calmly seated herself next to Peter and began to wank him.  He lay back and closed his eyes, but Cassie kept hers on Michael.  He watched her constantly while she wanked Peter.  Suddenly, Peter groaned, and then he too shot streams of cum onto her hand.  When he had finished, she stood up.

 

“Where are you going?”  Michael asked.

 

“To wash my hands.”  She said.  They both burst out laughing again.

 

When she returned to the living room, they had both dressed and were sitting watching TV as though everything was normal.  She sat next to Michael, and was thrilled when he put his arm around her.  She was still naked, but felt no need to ask to be allowed to put her clothes back on.  She felt close to someone for the first time in ages, and for the first time since she had arrived at her aunt and uncles, she didn’t feel frightened.

 

After watching TV for an hour or so, Michael said that it was time she went to bed.  She looked at the clock; nine-thirty, better than her bitch of an aunt allowed.  She smiled again at Michael, picked up the clothes she had dropped earlier and went to her room.

 

She lay there for some time, trying to make sense of her feelings for Michael.  She couldn’t explain, even to herself, how she could feel anything but hate for the boy who had done such awful things to her.  The only thing she could think of in his favour, was that he hadn’t hit her or done her any physical harm.  Everyone else in the place seemed to take a delight in causing her pain and anguish.  Her pussy was still wet, she could feel it.  She started to slip her hand down under the covers, when she heard someone coming up the stairs.  She found herself hoping that it would be Michael.

 

She lay still as the footsteps approached her bedroom door.  The door opened slowly, she could just make out a head peering round the door, looking into the darkened room.

 

“Hello?” she whispered.

 

The light was switched on and she blinked in the sudden light.  When her eyes became accustomed to the light she saw that it was not Michael, or even Peter, but Mr. Jones.

 

“Andrew asked me to look in on you all, make sure you were alright.”

 

“I’m fine, thank you, Mr. Jones.”

 

“That was quite a spanking you received today.  How’s your backside now?”  His tone was one of concern, but there was something else in his voice which frightened her.

 

“It’s fine.  I’m fine, really.  Thank you Mr. Jones.”

 

“Maybe, I should take a look at it?  Make sure no harm was done.”

 

“No!, Really.  Really, I’m fine, er I mean it’s fine, no, I’m fine, thank you Mr. Jones.  I’m OK.”  She stammered anxiously.

 

“All the same, I still think I should take a look.  Can’t be too careful.”

 

He was advancing on her.  She started to panic.  Where was Michael, why didn’t he come and stop this.

 

“Where’s Michael and Peter?”

 

“Don’t worry about them.  They’re downstairs watching football.  I told them not to disturb us.  They won’t come up here.  They wouldn’t dare.  Now, let’s have a look at you, shall we?”

 

“No, please Mr. Jones.  Really. I’m fine, honestly.”

 

“Are you arguing with me?  Do you want your uncle to punish you again?”

 

“No Mr. Jones.”

 

“Then roll over on your front, and let me have a look at you.  See, I’ve brought some ointment to rub on you.  Takes away the sting, stops bruises.”

 

He held up a small jar of pale coloured cream.  She was frightened again.  There was nothing she could do to stop this strange man from assaulting her.  He moved to the side of her bed and pulled back the covers.  He grabbed her shoulder and forced her onto her front.  She pleaded one last time.  “Please don’t, Mr. Jones.”

 

“Now be quiet, or you really will be in trouble.”  His tone of voice had changed, it was now unmistakably menacing.  She felt him lifting the T-shirt she had been given to wear as a night dress.  He pushed it up until it was bunched in the small of her back.  She had put on a new pair of knickers before getting into bed, now she felt his fingers slip under the elastic and start to lower them.  She felt them slip over her bottom, then down her thighs, and finally down to her ankles.  He pulled them off her completely and dropped them to the floor.

 

“There.  That’s not so bad, is it.  I’m just going to examine you.”  He sounded like a doctor would, but his hands, when he touched her made her cringe.

 

He ran his fat, fleshy hands over both cheeks of her bottom.  Rubbing and kneading the flesh.  He put his hands on her thighs, gently easing them apart.  She cried into her pillow.

 

“Hush now, or I’ll give you something to cry about.”

 

He smeared something onto her skin.  It felt slippery.  Then he was rubbing it into her bare bottom.  He pushed a finger between the cheeks and found her tight little hole.  She cried out again as she felt his finger pushing painfully against her sphincter.  And then he had his finger inside her bottom. She gasped and moaned with pain at the intrusion.  She could feel his finger moving around inside her, it was the most uncomfortable thing she had ever experienced.

 

After what seemed like an age, he withdrew his finger.  She sighed with relief, but could still feel the pain and discomfort from his violation.

 

Then he forced her legs still wider apart.  He began to rub ointment into the skin of her inner thighs, getting higher and higher.  Then he put his hand on her pussy.  She cried out “No!”, and tried to get up from the bed, but he put his hand into the small of her back and forced her down.  She cried out again and again as his fingers found her slit and began to fondle it.  Then he slipped a finger between her lips and pushed it into her cunt.

 

“Well, what do we have here?  Proper hot little bitch, aren’t you.”

 

“Please don’t.  Please leave me alone. I won’t tell anyone, please Mr. Jones, don’t do this to me.  Please.”

 

“I don’t care if you tell the world about it.  Do you think anyone would listen to a silly little girl like you?  Don’t be ridiculous!”

 

His finger had pushed deep into her pussy now.  He was delighted to feel how warm and wet it was.  He wondered what had made her get so wet.  He knew it wasn’t him.  He’d done this to many young girls when he’d been head master of a special school for young tearaways many years ago. Always the same, get them on their own, then break ‘em in.  They were always dry the first time, then they’d get used to it.  This one though was wet already.  So much the better.

 

He opened his trousers and freed his throbbing cock. He hadn’t had one this young in many years.  He was going to enjoy this!  He pushed his trousers down to his knees and climbed between her spread thighs.  By the time Cassie realised what was about to happen, it was too late.  She screamed, but he put a hand on the back of her head and forced her face into the pillow.

 

She was fighting to breathe, but she was still aware of something pushing against the entrance to her pussy, something thick and blunt.  She felt her lips stretch to admit it, and then it was forcing its’ way into her.  She whimpered as she felt her tunnel being stretched and filled by the intruder.  He had released his grip on her head and she could breathe again.  She felt the weight of his hips on her pelvis, and then felt him start to pump into her.  He forced his hands beneath her and began to grope for her breasts.

 

He put his face close to her neck and whispered, “That’s better, isn’t it.  Now we’re all friendly.  Nice tits you’ve got.  Nice and firm.  I like ‘em firm.  Big for a girl of your age too.  Nice juicy tits.  Your cunt’s nice and wet.  What you been thinkin’ about to get it so wet then eh?  Hot little bitch.  You enjoyin’ this, are you?”

 

“No.”  She sobbed.  “Please stop.  Please Mr. Jones, stop.”

 

“What?  Just when we’re getting friendly?  I don’t think you want me to stop at all really. Just playing hard to get, are you?  Well too late!  You’ve been well and truly got!  I want you to thank me for doing this, bitch.  I want to hear you say ‘thank you uncle Phil’.  Say it.”

 

She felt his hand around her throat.  Terrified out of her mind she began to chant, “Thank you Uncle Phil. Thank you Uncle Phil.  Thank you Uncle Phil.”

 

“And now say ‘fuck my tight little pussy Uncle Phil’”

 

“Fuck my tight little pussy Uncle Phil.  Fuck my tight little pussy Uncle Phil.”

 

Suddenly, he pulled out of her.  He rolled her onto her back and forced himself between her legs again.  He positioned his cock at her entrance and drove in again.  He pushed up her T-shirt, exposing her mauled breasts.  He put his mouth over one nipple and began to suck on it.

 

“Now say ‘thank you for fucking me Uncle Phil’”

 

“Thank you for fucking me Uncle Phil.  Thank you for fucking me Uncle Phil.”

 

“Oh yes!”

 

He groaned and she felt a warmth spreading inside her.  He groaned again, and again, then collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath.

 

All she was aware of was his laboured breathing and her sobs.  He lay on top of her for minutes afterwards.  Finally, he lifted himself off her and got to his feet.  She started to straighten her T-shirt to cover her nakedness, but he wouldn't allow it.

 

“No.  Keep it up.  I want to have a good look at you.”

 

He then amused himself by running his hands over her young body.  He squeezed her breasts, pinched her nipples.  Her made her spread her legs as wide as she could so that he could examine her most intimate place.  He ran his finger along her slit, then pushed a finger inside.  He showed it to her, still slick with their combined juices.

 

“Lick it clean.”  He ordered.

 

She tried to resist, but he gripped her jaw painfully, forcing it open. Then he pushed his finger inside, rubbing it over her tongue.  Her released her jaw and made her suck the finger until it was clean.  She almost gagged at the taste of his semen mingled with her own juices.  Finally, he stood up and fastened his trousers.

 

“That was very nice, bitch.  I’m already looking forward to next time.  Sleep well now.”  And he chuckled to himself as he left the room.

 

Cassie cried herself to sleep.