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Part Three
Helen got up from the table and came round it to stand in front of me, still sniffling. She looked me in the face, anger and not a little contempt in her expression, and then without warning she grabbed hold of my limp cock. Immediately it started to grow, and she half turned so that her mother and sister could see it.
"See, Mummy," she said. "He's nothing but a pig."
I stood there naked and with my enlarging cock encircled by her cool fingers, her mother looking at me with interest and he sister with a sly mocking smile, and I felt two what I thought at the time were very conflicting emotions. The most humiliated I had ever felt, and at the same time the most excited. Like with her father the night before, when disgust and arousal had fought a battle in my mind and my body. I was to learn in time that humiliation and excitement, as disgust and arousal, were actually just two sides of the same coin in my case. But right then I was just confused.
"He's a man, darling," Mrs Trent said to her eldest daughter. "It goes with the territory. Your Daddy is one of the few exceptions."
She bestowed a regal smile on her husband, standing just behind me as his daughter fingered my cock. If I had thought this lot were weird before, then I was realising that I was going to have to soon be raising the bar on what I considered weirdness. The Trent family needed a definition all to themselves.
She let me go, but my cock refused to even waver from its rigid stand. "I want him spanked, Mummy," she said petulantly. "Spanked for being rude about you and Daddy, and being so horrid to me.
"Of course you do, darling," her mother agreed. "Who do you want to spank him?"
Liz immediately pout her hand up, a wicked grin on her face, but Helen was looking at her father. "I want Daddy to do it," she said.
"Helen," I said, "This is getting.."
She froze me with a stare. "You are sorry for being so beastly to me, aren't you?" she asked.
"Of course I am, but.."
"If you're really sorry, then you'll have to do a lot more to prove it to me than just coming in here waving your thing about."
With all their eyes on me, and Helen's still full of tears, it all seemed pretty much of a done deal. I glanced back at Mr Trent, so see him looking back at me benignly. In all of this he did at least seem to be the one person here on my side, willing me to get through this and be with my love.
I nodded. "Alright, Helen," I said. "If this will show you how sorry I am, then I'm happy to go through with it."
I got a little smile from her for that. Not much of one, but it was something. Mr Trent was already pulling out one of the kitchen chairs and sitting down on it. He looked up at me and smiled, and patted his lap. I went over to him, and there was a bit of an awkward moment as I tried to figure out how to do this. I heard Liz giggle behind me as I got down over his knees. I felt his bare thighs on my chest and stomach, his stomach against my arm. I had never been in this much physical contact with a man before, and it was freaking me out a bit. Then I felt something hard jutting into my torso, just where it crossed the gap between his thighs, and freaking out became too tame a word. But still through all this, my own body was betraying me. My own cock remained as hard as a rock, and my position was forcing it up against the side of his thigh. He couldn't help but notice.
He gave me a dozen slaps with the flat of his hand, alternating between buttocks. The three women, or rather the two women and the girl, stayed silent throughout, which made the sound of flesh on flesh seem all the louder in the small room. He went easy on me and it didn't hurt much. And I stayed hard all through it. It wasn't the pain, what there was of it. To this day pain has no power to turn me on, either inflicting or receiving it, and it certainly didn't then. And I didn't really understand the reason for my arousal at all, not until much later when I'd learned so much more about myself. Here I was stretched naked over the knees of my equally naked father-in-law being spanked like a naughty child while my bride, her mother and her young sister looked on. I should have been mortified, and my treacherous cock should have been the size of walnut and doing its best to retreat back inside my body. Not stiff as a rod and grinding into my father-in-law's thigh. And, of course, as I was to later realise, it was that humiliation that was turning me on.
When he'd finished, he lifted the arm that had been across my back to allow me to stand. Doing so, I caught sight of what had been trying to drill its way through my stomach. My father-in-law was not only bigger flaccid than me, but bigger erect as well. It looked enormous sticking up there, with the deep red head looking far too big for the foreskin that was stretched back around it. I felt mine begin to wilt a little at the sight of it.
"Daddy has a stiffy," Liz said chantingly. "And silly Simon is losing his."
"Yes, poppet," Mr Trent said to her fondly. "Daddy enjoyed that, but maybe Simon didn't."
"Turn round, Simon," Helen said abruptly. "Yes, nice and red," she commented when I had. "Well done, Daddy. Aren't you going to thank Daddy, Simon?"
I swallowed uncomfortably. "Thank you, Mr Trent," I said weakly.
"For what?" Helen snapped from behind me.
"Thank you, Mr Trent," I began again. "Thank you for spanking me, which I fully deserved."
"Don't mention it, my boy," he answered, grinning.
"Now go away," Helen said. "You can stay on in the cottage, but don't you go think I've forgiven you for what you said. Because I haven't. Not yet."
Mr Trent got up and went to the door, and beckoned me to follow him. He led me back into the front room, and I went straight over to my discarded clothes.
"Do you really think that's a good idea, son?" he asked softly. "After all, you've done so well so far. Come and sit down."
I went back and sat down on the sofa, and he took the armchair opposite. I found to my surprise that I was getting used to the nudity. It seemed almost natural, which I suppose in a way it was. And being without clothes gave a terrific sense of freedom, as if all your life you'd been in a strait-jacket without knowing it, and suddenly and without warning it was gone from you.
"You really upset my little Helen, son," he said. "I've never seen her so upset as she was when she came back earlier.
"I'm sorry, Mr Trent," I said. "I really didn't mean to upset her."
"Didn't you?" he asked, but not unkindly. "Saying we were strange, weird? You must have known that would be upsetting for anybody to hear."
"Mr Trent," I said defensively. "You have to admit that things are a little strange around here. Just look at last night in bed. Nobody would say that was normal."
He smiled. "Me having a feel of your bum, you mean?" he asked. "I don't know anything about normal, Simon. To me it just seems a word used to keep people in check. All I do know is that you do have a lovely little bum, almost girlish in its way, and I much enjoyed feeling it. And it didn't do you any harm, did it?"
"That's hardly the point, Mr Trent."
"Isn't it? A minor little thing that gave me pleasure and did you no harm. I don't see that anybody suffered in that, do you? Not me, certainly, a not you as you've already admitted. We were put on this earth to give pleasure and solace to each other, Simon, and you letting me have a little feel of your bum after I'd been good enough to give you my daughter's hand in marriage hardly seems a tremendous favour to ask. Well, does it?"
My head was spinning with his confusing words, and I rested it in my hands. He came and sat beside me, putting his strong arm around my shoulders. "I just don't know what to think anymore, Mr Trent," I said. "I really don't."
He patted my back. "I know, son," he said. "But you'll sort it. Helen and her mother are going shopping today, and Liz is off to visit with a friend who is holidaying nearby. You can give me a hand with my chores while they're gone. Nothing like a bit of physical labour to take your mind off your troubles."
And that's what I did. After they all left, we started in the garden. Feeling the breeze on my bare skin and the sunshine on parts that had never been exposed to its rays before reminded me of my nudity, but that soon passed and I quite happily went about raking up leaves trimming rose bushes with barely a thought for my cock flopping about with every move. There was a path at the end of the garden, beyond the low fence, but it seemed pretty much unused and nobody appeared along it while were out there. Then it was back inside and the washing up and dusting and polishing. The place looked pretty good by the time the sound of a car outside heralded the return of Helen and her mother.
"Come and help me with the shopping," Mr Trent said to me, going to the front door.
I hesitated at the door as I followed him. The back garden and the house were one thing, but ten metres away down the front path was a road. Not a busy one, mind, but still with cars passing at regular intervals. Then I saw Helen standing by the car watching me, and I screwed up my courage and went to help my father-in-law collect the bags from the boot of the car. Two cars passed as we did it, but neither slowed or showed any other reaction to two naked men unloading shopping from a car.
"Has he been good, Daddy?" Helen asked as I was lifting the last of them out.
"He's been a tremendous help to me, sweetheart," Mr Trent answered. "Really mucked in and got things done."
I actually felt quite proud of that commendation, though I wasn't sure why. .
We took the bags, which mostly seemed to contain clothes and shoes, up to the room that the two sisters shared with their mother. It was the first I had seen of it, and I noticed that it contained one very large bed. Presumably, I thought, they all shared it together. We left the bags on the bed, and went back downstairs to find Helena and her mother in the front room. They were on the sofa beside each other, both with their shoes licked off and their bare legs and feet stretched out in front of them.
"Make the ladies some tea, son," Mr Trent said. "They've had a tiring day."
Nothing had been said about tea for Mr Trent and me, so I played it safe and just set out two cups and saucers on the tray. When I came back, Mr Trent was in his knees in front of his daughter. He had one of her feet in his hands and was massaging it, and with a little bit of a shock I realised that her other was resting in his groin, the sole resting against his cock.
"Ah, tea," Mrs Trent said. "Good. Put it down here on the table."
I had stopped abruptly in the doorway at the sight that met my eyes, but now I quickly recovered myself and went forward with the tea tray. I put it on the table and then just stood there gormlessly wondering what to do. I couldn't stop my eyes from keep returning to the sight of my bride's delicate foot up against her father's heavy cock, and my own began to stir a little.
I realised that Mrs Trent was looking up at me, a little expectantly. And I realised why.
"Are your feet tired too, Ms Trent?" I asked.
"Very, Simon," she answered pointedly.
"May I massage them for you?" I asked.
She favoured me with a warm smile. "What a good boy you can be when you try, Simon," she said. "Very thoughtful. Yes, of course you may massage them."
I got down on my knees beside my father in law and Mrs Trent raised one foot so that I could take it in my hands. Unlike her daughter's, her feet were obviously those of a mature woman. But somehow I found them all the more attractive for that. I started to massage the sole with my thumbs, and immediately she copied Helen's pose by putting her other foot in my lap. Immediately my cock commenced to grow, and she laughed.
"He's very sensitive, isn't he, Helen?" she said.
"I wouldn't know, Mummy," Helen answered sniffily. "Mouth now, Daddy."
Mr Trent inclined his head slightly towards me and smiled. Then he lifted the foot he was holding and closed his lips over the big toe. That was just too much for me, what with the pressure on my cock, my mother-in-law's foot in my hands and all else that had been happening that day. I spurted. Not much, just the one, but it spattered all over Mrs Trent foot and ankle.
It was like time froze. All three pairs of eyes were on me, and all of them cold and disapproving. I looked down at the foot resting in my groin, the milky white cum in a long thin line stretching from the ankle to between the first and second toes, and felt thoroughly ashamed of myself.
"I'm so sorry, Ms Trent."
She wrenched the other foot from my hands and lifted the one I had despoiled.
"Clean off your mess," she ordered. "With your tongue, you filthy little boy."
I held the foot with the heel cupped in my hand and looked down at it. Despite my disgust, my own cum looked so tempting there glistening along her foot. Before I could give it any more thought, I dipped my head and licked it from around her ankle. It tasted slightly salty, but nothing like as bad as I had expected. And I hadn't felt the slightest urge to throw up. I continued along the foot, cleaning off my mess, and finished up between her toes. I thrust my tongue between them, getting out the last of it. When I looked up again, letting her foot go, they were all three still watching me intently.
"Now go to your room," Mrs Trent commanded haughtily. "I don't want to see you again before tomorrow."
Like a lamb, I did just as I was told. Upstairs I thought to put some clothes on, but when I looked in the wardrobe and drawers there was nothing there. Every stitch of clothing had been removed, and neither was there anything of Mr Trent's that I might have borrowed. I sat down on the bed, staring at the door, and wondered where all this could possibly lead.