Uncle Ned (need 1M)

pj38

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Roxy smacked her gum and directed her steely glare off into the distance. "I'm sorry dear," her mom had said, "we just don't know what to do with you anymore." Roxy winced with pain and anger. Then she slung her bag over her shoulder and stormed off into the house. "Ned, we think your influence will be good for the girl," Roxy's mom had said as Roxy marched off, "she just needs a little of your discipline."

"Uh, yea," Ned squinted, "discipline." He started to smirk, then caught himself. His cock twitched again, and he leaned forward hoping it wouldn't show. Roxy had luscious tits and a creamy ass, and she liked to show them off to the boys.

"You understand that she's not coming her willingly," her mom continued, "and she'll be oppositional around you, just as with us." Ned scratched his two-day whiskers as he muttered, "Yea...yea...she'll be, uh, fine here."

Roxy had failed all her classes in her first semester at college, due to partying. She'd moved back home but was too wild for her parents. Ned lived alone on a remote suburban road, and they knew he needed the money they'd send for her upkeep.

They drove away, and Ned came in to find Roxy on the couch. She'd ditched her shoes and bag in the middle of the room. She'd found soda pop and potato chips. As Ned approached, she looked away and brushed the crumbs off onto the couch.

[OOC Roxy needs some lustful discipline from a guy to play Ned. No rules, I guess.]
 
Ned stood looking at the young woman, and wondered what the fuck to do next. She was certainly an A1 cock tease, but now she was going to be living here, in his house. This could either be a good thing or a hell of a frustration.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he offered. This failed to elicit more than a humph from Roxy.

"So much for that," he muttered.

He spoke more firmly, stepping closer, "Alright Roxy, looks like you are going to be staying here a while, whether you like it or not. And in this house, we have rules. Number one is we clean up our own messes. The broom and the sweeper are in the closet over there. I would appreciate it if you would clean the couch."

He watched her as he spoke. She was breathing deeply, her chest rising and falling, her big jugs rising and falling. When she failed to move, he said more loudly, "well? You deaf?"
 
Roxy kept looking away, but she could see her uncle's evil squint locked onto her. She felt vulnerable and exposed, undressed by his gaze. She shivered as she saw him looking at her breasts.

She wondered what her options were at Ned's house, whether she'd have a private room even. She really couldn't go back home, she knew her parents were desperate. She'd heard them talking about calling the police at one point. But she couldn't let Uncle Ned know that. All she could do was put up a strong front and resist any control he tried to exert over her.

"Clean it yourself," Roxy sneered. "It's your house, I don't live here."
 
"Oh really now," he jeered back at her, "Your ass is sitting on the couch. You are eating the food. Your clothes are on the floor. Your bedroom is upstairs. So, it looks like you are living here."

He reached down and grabbed her arm, pulling her off the couch and dragging her to the closet. With his other hand, he jerked the door open, "there's the sweeper. I'm not going to tell you twice."

He stared down at her, looking pissed. He would have been more so, but those damn big jugs kept distracting him.
 
Roxy was shocked with disbelief. No one had ever treated her that way. Ned had even hurt her a little as he pulled her off the couch. She thought of resisting, but she was certain he meant business. A tear welled in her eye as she took the sweeper.

She cleaned the couch, leaving a few crumbs in protest. She could feel her tight shorts ride up as she bent over, and she was sure his leering eyes were on her. She finished and put the sweeper away, but the hose flopped down and came to rest in the closet doorway so that, she worried, the door wouldn't shut. She left it there and left the door open.

Then she went to get her things to go upstairs. She didn't know where to go, but neither would she give him the pleasure of telling her. She started up the stairs with her bag flopping behind her.
 
He had watched her clean with a mixed expression. Irritation, mixed with voyeristic lust as her ass came more into view. Damn, she was built! When she finished, she put the sweeper back. The hose fell down. It always did that. He couldn't blame her for that. Besides, he had won thier first confrontation.

He watched as she grabbed her bags, her full chest swaying as she moved. She walked up the stairs. She would figure out which room was hers, and if not, he would make sure she remembered. He called up after her, "dinner is at six."
 
Roxy found her room and flopped her stuff down on the floor. She sat on the bed and looked around. The roomed looked like it had been crudely furnished with thrift store furniture. Everything was old and bumped and dented. Nothing matched.

She looked at the door. No lock. She sighed, wondering if that was going to be a problem. She knew she'd sleep better if she knew that creepy uncle couldn't get in.

Roxy sat and brooded until the clock reached 6:00. She waited until 6:05 and then headed down the stairs. She pulled back a chair in front of an empty plate and flopped herself down. She was hungry. She wondered if he really knew how to cook, and if he would withhold food if he was angry at her.
 
"Hope you like ribs," he said, as he pulled a rack from the oven, "they were havin' a sale down at the market, and I never pass up ribs." He pulled a pan of cornbread from the oven as well. He cut himself a section of the ribs and cornbread, and spooned himself some beans. He looked over at her sitting at the table, and commented, "come and get it. We serve buffet style round here."

He sat down with his plate and watched her get up, finding himself hungry, and getting hungrier.
 
Roxy eyed her uncle carefully. He hadn't scolded her for being late, or for leaving a few crumbs on the couch, or for leaving the vacuum hose in the doorway. What was he up to?

"Yea, ribs are good."

She was starving. She put a sizable portion of ribs on her plate, a helping of beans, and a good chunk of cornbread. She sat down and began to eat. She was silent while she ate, except for all the smacking and licking with the ribs. She looked at him a few times, and when she did he was usually watching her.

Roxy had determined not to speak to him, but the silence got to her.

"I mean, what am I going to do here?"
 
He had watched her as she ate, her lips and mouth working the bones of the ribs. He wondered how well she sucked cock and his rod swelled at the thought.

When she finally spoke, he answered, "Well, til you figure out what you're gonna do with your life, you're gonna help out around here. I have a couple different businesses going and I am sure you can make yourself useful. As for this evening, I cooked, so you get to clean up."

It was a vague answer. He hadn't thought about it. He did have some lustful ideas, but held his tongue, for now.
 
The food had made Roxy feel compliant. But she was basically imprisoned in her uncle's life, whatever that was. No parties. No friends. No booze or drugs. No sex. That was what her parents and all the authority figures in her life wanted for her. That drab room upstairs and her perv uncle staring at her.

She started the dishes, fighting back tears. In a half hour they were piled up in the drain clean. What to do now. She started towards the stairs and thought of that horrible room. So she turned toward the couch. There was TV so she turned it on, sat down, and started flipping through channels. Her perv uncle didn't even have cable, so she got through them all with a few clicks. She sighed in resignation and disbelief. Once she'd been around the channels, she just left it on, watching the program that she started on. A game show of some kind.
 
Ned wandered by, seeing his neice sitting on the couch, the light from the TV playing over her body. "Yeah, not a whole heck of a lot on," he drawled, "and nothing going on at the grange hall tonight either."

He didn't get a response, but hadn't expected one. He continued, "nights like this, I have a sip of moonshine. Was fixing to get some now. Want some?"
 
"Moonshine? You've got to be kidding." She rolled her eyes. Her situation could not get any more perverse, she thought.

"Sure, what the hell," she sighed. That must be what it takes to live in this rat hole, she thought, moonshine.
 
"Ha!" he said mockingly on his way to a cabinet, "while I am sure you got used to fine cheap beer in your college years, you have never had anything like this. The family that makes this has been doin' it for a hundred years. Its smooth as silk and will knock you on that cute ass of yours."

He poured them both several fingers from a ceramic jug. Walking over to the couch again, he handed her a glass, not overlooking her cleavage as she moved her arm to take it.

He flopped down on the couch and took a sip, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
 
Roxy's face wore a defiant sneer as she took a ample sip, almost a gulp, from the mug. Suddenly her throat was gripped by an agonizing burning. She set the mug down and ran to the faucet, coughing and gasping all the way. Leaning over the sink, she drank from the faucet until no more comfort could be had from it.

Then she turned back toward the couch. On the way she bent over, resting her hands on her knees, and gasped and coughed. Ned, amused at the whole scene, had a direct angle to gaze at her cleavage as her breasts bounced and swung. Finally she swallowed hard and went and sat down on the couch.

Roxy was ok, but she had never had liquor that strong. She steeled herself, picked up the cup, and drank a much smaller sip, showing no emotion as it also coursed down her throat.
 
"Ah, there's a coke in the frig, if you want to mix it," he offered, "told you it was strong."

He had greatly enjoyed watching his niece's big tits rocking while she coughed. He wondered how long it would be before he could see them bare. The bathroom had a few holes in the walls, and she would take a shower eventually.

He sipped his moonshine, and felt the warm glow of a buzz descend on him. "So tell me, what do you want to do with your life? he asked.
 
"I don't need a fucking coke," Roxy snarled. She took another big sip and stared at him as she swallowed it without flinching. In her haste to prove herself, she'd drunk twice what he had. Suddenly the first hint of alcoholic haze drifted into her brain. When he asked what she wanted to do with her life, her attitude had mellowed.

"Shit, I don't have a clue." She looked up at him, "That's what they told you to ask me, isn't it? You're to keep me in this rathole until I figure out how to answer that."

"Maybe I want to do the same fucking thing you do." She picked up the glass and waved it in front of him, then she took another sip.
 
"Like you have a clue as to what I do," he shot back, "and don't you dare judge me. You have no fucking clue about my life."

He was getting pretty irritated. Cute little brat, probably thinking he was trash. She would learn, one way or another. He watched as she swallowed more 'shine, and snorted, "Oh, and you think you can outdrink me too? You learn that in college. Well, the jug is over there. Don't fuckin drop it."
 
It was true. Roxy didn't know anything about Uncle Ned except the way is place looked. But admit she was wrong and her whole world would crumble. She just couldn't do it.

Her mug was almost empty. She picked it up, guzzled it, and swallowed. It burned just like the first gulp, but she didn't let on. She got up to get the jug, her steps already unsteady. She brought it back and poured another inch in her mug. She took another sip. This was the only thing she could do.

"Ok, what happens now?" she said
 
He could see that she was well on the way to being drunk. She got up and poured more into her glass and asked him "what happens now?"

"Well," he said slowly, "you could pour me a bit more."

He smiled unevenly as his niece tottered back over to him. Stopped and swayed a little. He reached up and took the jug. "Maybe you should just sit down, before you fall down," he suggested, pouring himself some more.

Roxy almost fell onto the couch, her breasts threatening to bounce out of her top. Ned sipped at his glass. He didn't bother to hide the fact that he was watching her now. She was too drunk to notice.

"OK," he continued, "we just keep talking and drinking. So, your mom says you've been raising hell. What's the wildest things you've done. And don't worry, what happens here, stays here."
 
"Shit Ned, I've done some stupid fucked up shit. That's a contest you'll never beat me at. You know these frat guys, they give you all the booze you want, free, and food, and music, and all. Then when you get loopy they line up to get their dicks sucked. Now that's some nasty shit you've never done."

"And when you're dancing, there's all kinds of groping, they want you to take stuff off, show your breasts, and the like. Riding in a car, they want you to flash you breasts, show 'em to people in other cars."

"And I can't tell you how many guys I woke up with who I didn't remember ever talking to. God knows what I did with them."

She paused.

"All because of this stuff." She raised her glass. "Now what's a perv like you going to do to me. How the hell do I know?"
 
"Yeah," he agreed, looking at his glass, "most of the time, this will screw you big time..."

He looked at her hungrily, "but not always."

"So with all those guys, were any of them good? How many of them made you cum? How many did you want to fuck the next day?" he asked.
 
"I don't know. Sometimes I would cum, if it felt just right, or if that's what the guy wanted. But you gotta understand, most of those guys could care less, it was just sport for them. And sometimes when I felt bad, like if my parents did something to me or if I got a bad grade or didn't have any money, well, the whole drama of it, being treated like a toy, degraded, and so on, that felt good in a healing sort of way."

"Yea, the morning sex, that was good sometimes. But hangovers, alarm clocks, roommates, all that stuff could get in the way. But morning guys treated me better definitely."

She paused, deep in thought.

"You know getting fucked when I was drunk or high, it has its own sweetness. It's all passive pleasure, it's all a blur that just happens. It was mostly nice unless the guys were just being total shits."

Roxy took another sip. She looked in her mug, second helping almost empty. She wasn't sure she wanted to pass out.

"Hey, how come you're asking so many questions? What do you want to know about this for?"
 
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"Just tryin' to get to know you better," he answered easily. He looked at her, marveling that she could be such a slut. She had the body for it, but then again, she could have had anything.

He shook his head at her. "Pretty thing like you could have any guy you want, anything you want. You can do better than bein' a slut."

He saw her drain her glass and could see her thinking about more. He grinned, "unless you want to sleep on the couch her tonight, you might want to stop. This stuff catches up with you."
 
Roxy took the last sip from her mug and set it down. Why was he taking care of her like that? She kept letting her guard down, and that made her uncomfortable. She didn't want to drink anymore and was thankful he didn't encourage it.

"I've slept on couches before. It ain't that big of a deal."

She wasn't sure if she could walk upstairs without falling anyway. She wouldn't pass out, and the hangover wouldn't be that bad. But her head was in a dizzy, alcoholic blur.
 
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