I lived at 22 Firth Road. Trouble lived at number 24.

The trouble was the sisters, Darlene and Octavia, though I’d lived next door to them for a year before I knew anything about them beyond the simple fact that two pretty girls lived next door. They were half-sisters, really. If I’d thought about it I’d have guessed that the man who’d named 24-year old Darlene, couldn’t be the same man who’d named Octavia, born three years later.

Darlene was honey-blonde, bosomy, a girl who got a lot of attention when she walked past in her spray-on jeans. Octavia was darker, slimmer, and fit, with buttocks like muscular apples, which I admired when she walked past my office window in the short, tight dresses she generally wore. Her breasts were smaller than Darlene’s, but perfect, in one of the many ways in which breasts are perfect.

Their mother, Linda, was a dozen years or more older than me, though I’d always thought she was attractive. Some of her was present in both daughters. I knew I hadn’t seen Linda in a while, but it didn’t occur to me that she’d gone until the sisterly wars started.

There were screaming matches, Octavia’s voice lower than Darleen’s but both loud, interrupted by crashes of cutlery dropped or crockery thrown. I expected to hear Linda stomp down from her office, threaten penalties and quiet them both down. But it never happened.

Linda had once flirted with me, because she’d heard my girlfriend screaming her orgasm, through the kitchen window. She (her name withheld, and anyway there are already too many names in this story) was deeply submissive, and so it was sometimes my duty to make her bend over the kitchen table and take the cane to her bottom and upper thighs.

She’d generally take her strokes reasonably quietly, though I’d make her count aloud and thank me for each, but when we fucked, generally with her still over that same kitchen table, seconds after her punishment had ended, her orgasmic screams were loud enough to rattle windows, make cats run for their lives, and, apparently, catch the ear of my neighbor, especially when she wailed the word “Master”.

The neighbors never learned my name because of the sex I was having, but they did learn that I was mildly kinky, and my role. Linda teased me about being able to hear my slavegirl in full orgasmic voice, from my house to hers, and she told me that she’d once had a Master herself, years ago. She seemed a little wistful about that, but she had a boyfriend and I was busy with my girl, so nothing ever came of it.

Now she and her current man were spending most of their time at his house in the country, leaving the sisters together. Their screaming matches generally resolved – eventually – back into sisterly solidarity and love.

Soon afterwards I had my own life-shaking crisis. My love won a scholarship to study at a well-known university in another state. I couldn’t leave my job and she couldn’t turn down the opportunity, so, although we sometimes met up, I was a single man again.

But one day, after I’d been on my own for about four months, my front doorbell rang. It was Darleen, in jeans and a Spongebob t-shirt. She said, “Hi.”

I said, “Hi,” puzzled.

She said, “Um, hello.”

So I said, “And hello, of course. I’m Peter.”

“Darlene.”

“Pleased to meet you, Darlene. Can I –? I mean, would you like a coffee?”

“Oh no. But thank you. Really. I came to … apologize.”

I frowned. “Why? What for?”

“For the noise. I mean, we … Well, I make a lot of noise sometimes. You must hear it. The shouting. I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Oh. Well, thank you, but it’s fine. I haven’t heard any shouting.” She looked at me, skeptical. “Maybe I have, just a little, but it’s no bother.”

“Um. You’re not upset?”

“Of course not.”

She dithered. There had to be something else. But eventually she said, “Well, we’ll try, I mean, I’ll try not to disturb you any more.”

“Oh, ok. That’s fine, really. Um, coffee is easy to do?” Because Darlene is pretty, and I hadn’t been visited by a pretty girl in nearly a month.

“No. Thank you, though. I’d best be…” And she trailed off. Then she smiled at me, and left.

So I went back to my office and work. I was making an index for a medical textbook. It was headache-inducing stuff, because there are too many unfamiliar terms that start with the same letters, and you have to get it exactly right. But perhaps an hour passed and my front door bing-bonged again. I sighed, and went down to open the door. It was Octavia.

So I said, “Well, hi! Octavia, isn’t it? I’m Peter.”

“I know. I –”.

“Would you like a coffee? I was just about to make it.”

Her perfect brow wrinkled for a second. “You know, that’s a great idea. Yes, please.”

So I ushered her inside. I was up to the letter T in my index, and this was my second visit from a pretty girl in a single day, and the first to cross my threshold in too long. So I happily put together coffee, and while we waited for it to boil we sat at the kitchen table together. Octavia chose the very spot that my girl used to bend over.

“Darleen came over, an hour ago?”

“Yes, she did.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she was sorry she was making so much noise. When you’re having your rows.”

Octavia nodded. “Did she say anything else?”

The coffee machine whistled and I turned the element off and poured two small, very strong cups. I gave Octavia hers. “This needs lots of sugar. Even if you don’t usually take sugar.” She helped herself to four heaped teaspoons. Then I remembered. “No, I don’t think she said anything else. No.”

“Ah. I didn’t think so. You know, Peter, you should probably sit down.”

So I did. “I’m all ears.”

“Well, Darlene was supposed to invite you over. And she was supposed to ask you to give her a spanking.”

“What?”

“Look, we wouldn’t ask most people. But that pretty girl, who used to come round…”

I gave her name.

“Yeah. You used to spank her, didn’t you?”

“Um. More than spanked her. But yes, I did that too.”

“Well, Darlene agrees she needs a spanking. A hard one. Stingy. I can’t do it. She’d never… But you, you’re, well, experienced. So she was supposed to come over and ask you. But she lost her nerve. So I’m asking.”

I could see that this might be a way of restoring peace between the sisters. But I can’t pretend, seriously, to have had altruistic motives. Darlene looked great in tight jeans, and I was sure she’d look even better without them. Of course my main reason for agreeing was sexual. I knew that if I stood up that’d be obvious. So I sat, trying to will my cock down. “All right. Yes, Darlene can get, well, she’ll get a sore ass. Over my knee. Ah, when?”

“Why don’t you come for dinner tonight? You can spank her, then we can have dinner together.”

There were things, expressions of utter bewilderment, that I wanted to say but didn’t. So I said, “Ok. I guess I’ll bring a bottle of wine.”

Octavia drained her coffee, then grinned at me. “You could bring anything else you needed, too. A paddle? You used to cane that girl, didn’t you? Mom said.”

I said, “I’m sure, for a first time, my hand will do fine.”

“Well, it’s up to you. Thanks for coffee. Six o’clock?”

“I’ll be there. With wine. And no paddle.”

“Well, that’s up to you. But I’m sure she’ll be relieved to hear it.”

I stood, and my arousal was obvious. Cocks aren’t good at hypocrisy. She couldn’t help noticing but she pretended not to. But at the door she inclined her cheek for me to kiss, making sure my body didn’t come into contact with hers. I closed the door, and leaned against it. I hoped this would lead to sex, because otherwise I’d be in for an extremely frustrating time. Then I wondered which sister it was most likely to lead to sex with. I thought about both of them at once, of course, but that was unlikely. So I went back upstairs and back to work.

I was up to the late Ys, and had only Z to go as six o’clock approached. I knocked on their door and Octavia answered. She smiled and this time kissed me, not fussed about our bodies touching. She said, “The spanking man cometh.”

“And he always rings twice.” That was it, for literary references. I stepped in and closed the door behind me.

Darlene was in the dining room. She was wearing short pajamas. She was pale, and looked very nervous. Octavia kissed my cheek again and went into the kitchen.

I said to Darlene, “Look, Octavia said you want a spanking. Or at least you agree that you need one. But there’s no deal, unless I hear it from you.”

She nodded. “Yes. It’s – Peter, you have no idea how embarrassing this is! But yes, I do think I need to be spanked.”

“Ok. Darlene, I’d like to hold you for a moment. I mean, a spanking gets very intimate, and I think it’s best if we’ve had some contact first. Is that..?”

“Yes, you may hold me, kind sir, if you please.”

So we hugged, her breasts and thighs warm and delicious against my body, and I stroked her back. My cock was hard, pressed sideways by my underpants, but she pressed her belly against it. I stroked her back, calling her a good girl very quietly, over and over until she relaxed. Then I let my hand slide lower, to her bottom. She was glorious, womanly and apparently not embarrassed by my touch. I slid a finger between two firm buttocks, and she opened her mouth and kissed me. Then we broke the hug and looked each other in the eyes. She nodded. I probably did too. We were going to fuck, for certain, after her spanking was over.

“Come on, you two. Dinner’s nearly ready.”

“And I’ve got business to see to first.” So I handed Octavia the wine, and told her to pour three glasses.

“Three? I thought Darlene’s in disgrace.”

“She is. You are, Darlene. But you could probably do with a glass of wine first. Settle your nerves.”

We gathered at the dinner table, which I was amused to see was very like mine. Octavia handed Darlene and me our glasses, and we looked at her and raised our glasses in salute to the others before drinking. Darlene downed hers quickly, so I took her empty glass from her, and said, “We begin now.”

Darlene looked at me. “Can I keep my jammies on?”

I looked at Octavia. She’d sat herself down, apparently not inclined to miss a thing. I smiled at her, and she smiled back. Then I said, “This is a first offense, so you can keep your top on.”

“Thank you.”

“But for a second offense, whatever it is, you won’t be so lucky.”

She swallowed. “Oh. And my shorts?”

“Oh, you can wear your shorts!”

She seemed surprised. “Oh! Good!”

“Round your ankles. They’ll get in your way if you start kicking, so that’s where they go.” Octavia laughed, briefly. Darlene stared at me, then nodded. She put her thumbs under the elastic, but hesitated.

I pulled out the chair from the head of the table, and sat down. “Shorts down now, Darlene, and get over my knee.”

Octavia scraped her chair while Darlene obeyed, shimmying out of the shorts, She had a short, neatly trimmed patch of pubic fur, and an immensely pretty pussy. I wanted to tell her that, but intimacy is a weird thing. I was about to have hands-on experience of her mostly naked body, but we didn’t know each other well enough for me to think it was safe to make a sexual compliment. Octavia had moved her chair so she was a little further from the table and her view was unobstructed, and she was closer to me.

I rubbed Darlene’s bottom happily. She was a beautiful woman, and her ass was peach-like, sacral-dimpled perfection. I pushed her top up so most of her back was bare, as was the underside of her breasts. “Have you ever been spanked before?”

“No, um. Should I call you sir or something? While you punish me?”

“Sir is good. And giving you your first spanking, Darlene. It’s an honor. I’m really …”

“Turned on,” said Octavia.

“Proud. Well, honored that you’ve got this much faith in me. Now, you relax. Don’t clench your bottom, because it won’t really protect you, and anyway, I’ll only give you extra smacks on the backs of your thighs if you do. Don’t get up till I say you can. And… well, that’s it, for now. Ok?”

“Yes.” Her voice was a squeak. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” I put my hand back on her bottom, beautifully bare and girl-shaped, and let her wait. At last I lifted my hand and brought it down, hard, for the first spank of her life, on her left cheek. She was shocked, and called, “Yarr.” Then, while a pink handprint was still forming on that cheek I give her the first on her right. This time she said, “Oh!”

So, keeping the smacks hard, slow and regular, I gave her twelve, then paused, while she lay still, her head down, her hair, fingers and toes on the carpet. I stroked between her thighs, and encountered wetness. I got two fingers wet and then held them to her mouth. “Who’s a bad girl, then? Or a good girl. Either way, I see I’ll have to go a little harder, Darlene.”

I looked at Octavia. She was engrossed but blushing, her face a brilliant red. I was sure that if I gave her the same test she’d pass it, or fail, depending on your point of view. I made a decision then, that I’d announce during dinner.

But Darlene must have felt me distracted by her sister, so she made an uncomfortable sound, the little hypocrite, and said, “Yes, sir. Harder if you must.”

I grinned, but resumed the spanking. These smacks were harder, and there were at least three dozen of them, plus a few extras on the backs of her thighs. Her thighs were a light, bright red, but her delicious ass had taken on a darker, tomato color. I said, emphasizing the words with extra smacks, “From now on, Darlene, you will be nicer to your sister. And you will not start screaming matches. Like some … spoiled, little, GIRL!”

Darlene writhed on me, so that her pussy pressed against my hard bulge as much as possible. She said, “Yes, sorry! Yes! I’ll be good! Sir! Please!”

I stroked between her pussylips some more, so her head drooped and she only said, “Mmm.”

Then I put my hand back on her warmly glowing ass. “You’ve got six to go. Count them out loud, Darlene. And thank me for each one.”

“Hmmpff?”

I remembered she was new to this. “You say, ‘One, thank you, sir,’ ‘Two, thank you, sir.’ Got it?”

“Yes! Yes! Thank you sir!” I hadn’t started the six yet.

But when I did start I made them the hardest spanks she’d received so far, and her counting and thanking had an air of desperation to it. But though her eyes were wet she hadn’t spilled a tear.

At last she said, “Six! Thank you, sir!” and I let her relax on my knee, reaching back to stroke and rub her bottom for comfort.

Eventually, when she seemed recovered, relaxed and horny, I said, “You’re a good girl, little Darlene. And you’re very brave.” Darlene isn’t really little, but anyone who has just voluntarily taken a spanking is called “little”. That’s just one of the rules.

Octavia said, “Oh god. That was … amazing. Honestly, I felt –” She stopped. What she’d felt was too personal to say, just then, though I knew what it was. She said, instead, “I hope you’ve learned your lesson, Darlene. But I’d better get dinner.”

Darlene said, “Sir? I should help Octavia. Can I pull my shorts up?”

“Of course not. You can’t take them off, either. They stay right where they are while you serve.”

So I watched Darlene hopping to the kitchen behind her sister. While they were gone I took what I guessed must be Darlene’s chair and removed it from the table, putting it against the wall. Dinner was an Italian beef stufatino, with broccoli. Octavia carried the beef while Darlene carried potatoes and broccoli, waddling with her feet wide to keep the shorts on.

Octavia set three places, and ladled food onto plates. Darlene looked at her chairless place, and then at me. I said, “You eat standing up, Darlene. And bare-bottomed.”

She blushed, though not as red as her bottom. “Yes, sir.” Standing put her at a slight disadvantage from a conversational point of view, and that was good.

Octavia and I were eye to eye. She said, “That was very impressive. And honestly Darlene, you’re my sister and all, but that was incredibly hot.”

I looked at her. This was the decision I’d made before. “Yeah. So will your ass be, when I spank you.”

She looked away, then back. “No way! You aren’t spanking me tonight.”

“No. I’m not spanking you tonight. But when you’re having your screaming matches, I hear two voices. Your voice as much as Darlene’s. The next time it happens, it’s you over my knee. Or both of you, but definitely you. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”

She frowned. To this day I have no idea whether she’d expected this. Sometimes I think she planned it. And sometimes not. ”Um. Well. Well, since you put it that way, I suppose it does. Sound fair, I mean.”

“Good. That’s settled then.” Then I smiled at her. Octavia was still blushing, but she smiled back, a little uncertain. Then we talked about, of all things, politics and movies, and Darlene joined in. They were in perfect sisterly harmony. But at last we’d finished, and Octavia and more awkwardly Darlene cleared the table.

But Darlene came out of the kitchen first, skipping, with the pajama bottoms on one foot. I stood up, and she pushed herself into my embrace. She said, “I’ve got a very nice, um, collection of Tibetan flags. In my room.”

That was probably true, though I never did pay them much attention. I bit her lower lip. “I bet you’ve got a very nice bedroom.”

She said, “Hang on, I’ve got to tell Octavia.”

“You do?” But she skipped away, still wearing her pajama bottoms on one ankle, into the kitchen, where she talked to Octavia. Octavia didn’t emerge from the kitchen. But Darlene did, and she took my hand, and raced up the stairs, with me holding on.

In her room I ignored lots of things, like the Tibetan flags, paintings on the backs of the coats that old men wear, a collection of masks and much more. Instead we kissed, and she undid buttons and took my shirt off, then my pants and my socks and then, with kisses and praise to my cock, my underpants.

I pushed her down – she had a single bed, the first I’d seen an adult own in a long time – put on a condom and climbed up after her so I was between her palely perfect thighs. I bit her pussy, very gently, then bit and licked her again with more focus and less gentleness. I slid my hands under her buttocks, still noticeably hot from my spanking, and she yowled, or growled.

I stayed, tonguing her, until her stomach muscles were taut and hard, and she clutched at her thighs and at folds in the lower sheet, and then, when I’d put my fingers into her, she focused on me more purposefully, and suddenly she gasped and released, and my face was wet, and so was the sheet.

I said, “Good, oh good girl, Darlene, good you,” and I moved up her body so my cock was about where it should be, and slid into her as we moved together and closed with each other. But on impulse I withdrew and pushed her so she turned onto her stomach. I fucked her from behind. Her hot, colored behind. She reached and found my hands on the sheet and held me hard as we pushed and plunged together. She cried out, and came with me in her, lustily, urgently.

When we’d come, and relaxed, we realized we’d been in danger of shouting the house down. She turned her head and looked at me. Her breath caught and she laughed. “Jeeze,” she said.

I said, “If I was next door right now, I’d be banging on the wall.”

She took a few seconds to work that through, then grinned. We moved together slowly, urging each other on till we made those noises again, or worse, and then we lay still, exhausted.

There was a long silence after our second orgasm. We were both sated, it seemed. Darlene said, “What a weird day. I didn’t wake up expecting this. It’s going to happen a lot now, isn’t it?”

“God yes. As often as possible. If it’s up to me at all.”

She accepted kisses. For a long time we were silent. At last she said, “Poor Octavia, she’s downstairs. She’s heard us. And she’s all alone. Would you…?”

“I don’t think I can tonight, Darlene. You’ve worn me out. But… I don’t know. If it was ok with you, she’s the one, next time?”

She smiled. “Well, she’s my sister. Half-sister, really. Lots of this wouldn’t have happened, probably, if we were full sisters. But if you fancy her –”

“Oh yes.”

“Well, if you did. Then I wouldn’t compete. Next time. The time after that, that’s mine. And so on.”

“What about both of you at once?”

“Oh god! Don’t be embarrassing!”

“Right. Sorry. Just a thought.”

“Well… maybe. We’d have to talk about it first. I mean the sisterhood. Not you. We know what you want.”

“I want you. Yeah, I want your sister too. That’s ok, isn’t it?”

She sat up suddenly. “Come on! We’re going downstairs to look after Octavia.”

I shook my head. Not in disagreement. Just in something like awe. “All right.”

Downstairs Octavia was reading an ancient issue of Vogue. She looked up. I was mostly dressed again, while Darlene had only thrown on a robe. Octavia raised her brows. She looked at her sister, not me. “Was it ok?”

Darlene shrugged. “You know there isn’t a mark, above B+. After that it’s all just really good. So it was better than B+.”

I said, mildly indignant, “Thank you!”

“No, it’s a compliment. Really.”

I frowned. “If you say so.” But it seemed stupid to be sulky.

Anyway, Octavia was more impressed than I was. She said to me, “I’ve heard that I’ve been disturbing you myself.”

I nodded. “This is true.”

“Then you should really come back and deal with that. I’m sure I’ll listen to you. When you correct me.”

I shook my head, but both of them knew I didn’t mean no. I meant I was out of my depth. Neither of them minded that.

Octavia leaned back, arms on the couch. She didn’t shave her armpits. Darlene did. “So, tomorrow. Would you like to come to dinner? I think you have… matters to deal with.”

“You are both very bad girls. And wonderful. But Octavia…”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be here before dinner. You know why.”

Octavia smiled. It was Darlene who said, “Oh, she’ll be here.”

“Then so will I.” And, overwhelmed by many new events and new responsibilities, I went home. I went to bed, but I lay there staring at the ceiling. I did not sleep.

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