Author's Note:
Please take note of this story's category and tags, in case the subject matter might not be to your liking. Also, please start with Part 1 of the series otherwise, some of this won't make much sense.
This is a work of fiction. The plot is fictional. The characters are fictional. It's
not real life
. Any resemblance to person(s) living or dead is purely coincidental. All fictional characters in this fictional story involved in fictional sexual activities are 18+ in their completely fictional lives. If you think you recognize a real-life someone in this story, you lead a more colorful life than the author. :-)
Lastly, and most importantly, I hope you enjoy the story!
-BizMe
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Mom, Aunt Clara & My Wandering Mind: Part 6
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It had only been a few days under Aunt Clara's care and I was still getting used to the new regimen, a course of therapy meant to address my absentmindedness and lack of confidence.
For sure, I was jerking off less often since I was only allowed to do so in the presence of a caregiver and, even then, only with their permission.
On a typical day, I used to get myself off
at least
twice--once in the morning, upon waking up, and again at bedtime during my evening shower. And usually once or more in between, depending on opportunity and what fed my fantasies that day.
But now that I was under the watchful eyes of a caregiver twenty-four-seven, the last good wank I'd had was the day Miss Swenson first came over and I was commanded to make myself cum on her skirt. That was
days
ago and I was in a world of hurt.
I knew better than to try to sneak away to rub one out secretly. If caught, I'd get even more severely spanked than usual, something I'd experienced only once so far, at the hand of Aunt Clara, when she used a hairbrush instead of her bare hand to administer my corrections. That was something I never wanted to experience again.
So, there I was, feeling so hot and bothered and in need of relief that I was about to go ask my stepmom for permission to jack myself off when she burst into my room in a fluster.
"Andy, I missed my alarm! Oh god, I'm going to be late for work if I don't hurry. You didn't masturbate, did you? Let me see," she hurried over to my bed and pulled back my sheet, exposing my morning wood which I, quite wisely, hadn't touched. "Well, no accidents, at least. That's good. And you clearly haven't taken care of it on your own. That's good, too."
"Yeah, about that... Mom, I really need to. It's starting to hurt, I need to so bad. Can I please, just this once..."
"I'm sorry, Andy. You know the rules. No touching and I don't have time for it. You're just going to have to hold off a little longer."
"A little
longer
? Mom, you're going to work. You expect me to be here by myself and not..."
"No, of course, not. Kari is coming over for the day, remember? You need to be looking for a job so you're not bottled up here all summer. That should take your mind off things. Besides, she can help if you need relief that bad."
"Miss Swenson?! Mom!" I whined. It was bad enough Miss Swenson had already witnessed me jacking off in front of her once. Now I was going to have to ask her permission and do it in front of her again? Not to mention, she was future mother-in-law, if things worked out as I'd hoped they would.
"No backtalk, Andy! You had a really good day yesterday and don't even need any corrections this morning. Don't blow it now."
"Okay," I grumbled. "Have a good day at work. I'll just be sitting here getting blue balls."
"Oh, stop being so dramatic," Mom groused. "Just ask Kari for permission. I'm sure she'll let you."
"Mm-Hmm," I grumbled, "and take pictures... and show them to Nadia... and ruin any chance of ever being with her someday. No thanks."
"I guess you don't need it that bad then. Now, come on. Downstairs with you. I probably shouldn't leave you here alone in that state," she nodded toward my crotch and my agonizingly turgid erection.
I rose from the bed and followed Mom to the living room, plopping myself on the couch, my unreleased hardon still upright and aching.
I was kept naked at all times while at home, per the guidelines Aunt Clara set and was slowly starting to get used to the sensation of my bare skin on the couch, the light breezes on my ballsack, the freedom from restrictive clothing. If I'm honest, it wasn't unpleasant.
The only real frustrations I had were not being allowed to jerk off privately whenever I wanted and the humiliation of being completely exposed in front of fully clothed, attractive women--related or not. Oh, and the daily corrections, of course; those were not exactly fun and, since the day Miss Swenson had come over, there hadn't even been any post-punishment caressing, much less any release from my pent-up sexual frustration.
Every morning, my corrections were faithfully administered by way of spankings which, curiously, Miss Swenson was almost always present for. It seemed that Aunt Clara made sure to schedule them either right before Miss Swenson went to work or right after she got home.
But once they were over, it seemed everyone had more important things to tend to and I was left wanting for release, an aching hard-on that I wasn't
allowed
to touch and no one else
would
. It seemed that they were trying to force me to
ask
for release instead of instigating it on their own.
As for Aunt Clara, she showed up at random times to check on me--sometimes during her lunch break, between her regular appointments at her University counseling office, and, of course, in the evenings when she'd come by to share dinner with Mom and me. After supper, she would review the day with Mom and decide her orders for the next day.
Speaking of orders, the only thing on the docket for this day was that I would spend it with Miss Swenson while Mom worked and that I had to obey her. In other words, an easy day... or so I had hoped until she showed up wearing a short pair of Adidas running shorts and an equally skimpy sports bra, covered by a loose fit, open back, Nike tank top.
"What a beautiful way to start a beautiful day," Miss Swenson sang as I opened the front door for her and welcomed her inside. Hurriedly, I closed it behind her in case someone walked or drove past and caught an eyeful--someone like old lady Perkins who religiously walked her dog every morning and night. Like clockwork, she would pass by our house at 8:05 AM and 6:05 PM, every single day.
"I see you still have your morning wood," Miss Swenson said joyously, jolting me out of my thoughts.
I quickly scanned the sidewalk and noticed old lady Perkins shutting her front door behind her and heading our direction with her lap-dog mutt pulling on her by its leash. I hurriedly slammed the door shut.
"He saved it just for you," my stepmom called jokingly from the kitchen where she downed one last cup of coffee.
"What? No, I didn't!" I balked. "I didn't, Miss Swenson! I never said anything like that. And I haven't been spying on you, either. I promise."
"Calm down. It's okay, Andy," Miss Swenson assured me with a smile before shifting her gaze back down to my hard-on. "I don't mind it at all."
"But I
did
