Aunt Sylvie's sexual somnambulism continued. One night I awoke to find her standing by my bed in the darkness, naked except for a black collar. In her hand she held a whip.
I thought she must be awake, but when I spoke to her she was in a deep sleep. The whip and collar may have been souvenirs from her life with Uncle Jack. It seemed that in her sexomniac states Aunt Sylvie acted out fantasies that kept her relationship with Uncle Jack alive, at least in her dreams. I got out of bed and whispered in Aunt Sylvie's ear:
"Hand me the whip!"
Aunt Sylvie stretched out her hand obediently and I took the whip from her. There was some climbing rope in my closet. I grabbed it,
"Come with me!" I commanded Aunt Sylvie.
I led her down to the basement where there was a steel hook in the ceiling. I threaded the rope through the hook and tied the ends to her wrists. Now Aunt Sylvie stood helpless and unconscious in the middle of the basement, her arms tied above her head and her big breasts, juicy white ass and pale shaved mound presented temptingly. I whispered in her ear:
"You have been a bad girl Sylvie."
Sylvie dropped her face to the floor submissively.
"You behaved shamelessly with your nephew. You teased him with your body and let him use you like a slut. You tempted him to commit incest."
I slid my hand between her thighs and fingered her damp, swollen slit. She was aroused by my litany of her sins, and probably by the anticipation of her punishment. I decided to begin with a light spanking. Too much pain too soon might wake her.
I spanked her cheeks until the blood came to the surface and my hand left red palm prints. At each slap, Aunt Sylvie flinched a little but she stayed asleep. It was time to try the whip. I whispered in her ear,
"Now I am going to punish you properly."
I took a step back and lightly cut the whip across her buttocks. When she didn't wake up, I whipped her harder by degrees until there were red welts on Aunt Sylvie's fine white cheeks. Now and then the whip slipped lower and bruised her thighs.
Aunt Sylvie's full breasts were bouncing temptingly as she jerked and twisted under the whip. I turned her body towards me and whipped her tits, lightly at first, until I left a criss-cross pattern of pink welts.
Then I improvised a spreader with a broom stick and some rope. I spread her legs wide and tied them so she couldn't close them. As I whipped her clit and pussy lips, Aunt Sylvie began to moan. I paused and fondled her clit; it was very swollen and aroused. She moaned and I slid my finger inside her; she was open and dripping wet. I slid the whip handle inside her and she pushed down on it and rode it like a dildo. I let her do this until she was on the verge and then I whipped her erect clit to a massive, shuddering orgasm.
When her spasms abated I untied her and led her back to bed. I laid her on the bed and looked at her bruised, submissive body. I was so aroused that I couldn't resist fucking her. I pulled her thighs apart and entered her. I fucked her hard, sucking on her stiff nipples. The feeling of fucking this bruised, sleeping woman was indescribably hot. I almost came in her, but at the last minute I pulled out and shot my load on her thighs. Without cleaning her off, I pulled the sheet up and left her soaked in cum. I wanted her to wake up and see that she had been well used and abused in her sleep.
The next day Aunt Sylvie said nothing about the preceding night, but as she served me dinner that night, she winced slightly as she bent over the table.
"Are you ok Aunt Sylvie?" I asked innocently.
"I have some pain in my lower back," she said, "Let me show you."
Aunt Sylvie unzipped her form fitting dress right down the back. She wasn't wearing any underwear and in one movement she slipped it off and stood naked before me. The effect was dramatic; her ass and thighs were covered in purple bruises and when she turned, her tits were marked in the same way.
