Yes

“Deal,” you say, so grateful that she doesn’t want to kick you in the balls again.

“This time, I’ll go first,” she says, undoing her short skirt, and slowly slinking out of it. She’s now down to a pair of black stockings, a blue lace bra and a skimpy black thong that leaves little to your imagination. She looks at you as you look at her, your eyes taking in her sexy curves while you feel Lois’s hot half-naked body pressed against your back. “Glad you like the view,” Lucy says, running her finger along your erection. “I like my underwear black and blue, like I like my men. That reminds me, it’s time for your part of the deal.”

Lois momentarily releases you from her grasp and turns your body around, still in complete control of you, as she bends you over at the waist. You now find your head stuck underneath her arm, down by her side, your ass sticking out ready for whatever punishment Lucy's ready to inflict on it. You look to your side at Lois's firm butt and then down to the back of her long legs, and just as you imagine touching them, you feel Lucy’s hand slapping your butt, hard. Then she does it again, and again, over and over, her hand beating you ln sync with the drums on the radio, though every so often she’ll miss a beat or add an extra one just to catch you off guard.

“There, it’s going nice and red,” Lucy says, as your ass feels like it’s burning.

“I thought you said a really good spanking,” says Lois.

“Haven’t finished yet,” she says, and then moves on to your thighs, slapping them over and over, until they sting and burn, no doubt as red as your bottom.

Finally, Lois flips you around, holding you once again in a full nelson, and Lucy stands in front of you, blowing on her tired sore hands. You’re grateful it’s finally over, your back bottom half still aching from the relentless slaps.

“Still not a really good spanking,” Lois says.

“Saving the best for last, sis,” she says, and falls to her knees in front of your erection. With both Lois and Lucy to look at and think about, it just refuses to go away, despite the pain.

Lucy starts slapping your balls with her hands, not holding anything back. You wince as you look down at her, seeing her hair and cleavage bouncing as she rocks her body to the beat of the music, while playing your balls like the bongos.

“Soon he’ll have red rocks,” she shouts to Lois.

“Red rocks? They turn Clark into a bad boy.”

“Won’t have any effect on us, we’re already bad bad girls.”

The two laugh as she continues slapping away at your balls, and as much as that makes you squirm and jerk, Lois holds onto you tightly, keeping you firmly in place.

“Oh, I think the poor boy’s crying,” Lucy says finally. “Hope he doesn’t give up before I’m naked. At least his cock’s still happy to see me.”

And then she gets to her feet and it’s back to the dancing that makes you want her so bad, charming your throbbing cock, making your aching balls ache even more. As she sways to the music, she slowly runs her hands through her hair, messing it up, and then over her hot hard half-naked body, running her fingers along its soft curves, feeling herself the way you want to feel her. She slowly runs her tongue along her bottom lip, giving you the sort of come hither look that could raise the dead, teasing you relentlessly just because she can.

“Stockings next,” she says as she lifts one of her shapely legs up high and perches her foot against your chest. She leans in closer. “But what can you do in return?”

“Time for the combat boots,” says Lois.

“If you insist,” says Lucy, taking her foot off your chest and heading back to the car.

Your balls are still aching from the spanking, and you struggle to try and get free of Lois’s grasp, but she just laughs and tightens her grip. “Be a man,” she says. “Or would you rather be a maid?”

Before you can answer, Lucy is dancing back, her combat boots dangling from her hand by the laces.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to wear them,” she tells you. “I’m taking things off, not putting them on. Hmmm, maybe you should put them on. How about that? Maybe you’d understand me more if you get to wear my shoes.”

You look at the boots, but you’re not sure they’ll even fit.

“Sure, they’re going to be tight, but I’m sure they’ll fit,” she reassures you, almost reading your mind. “I promise not to hurt your feet in order to cram them inside, or put anything yucky in them before you wear them.” She smiles sweetly. “Deal?”