Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!Copyright 1985-2016 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.
(****, M/f, Intense, nc bath brush spanking)
A girl is spanked. (Approximately 781 words. Originally published 2017-12.)
The head of the bath brush was a perfect circle, just like each of Charlie's buttocks. The flat wooden surface caressed each cheek for a moment, rubbing her warningly, and she stiffened with dread. Then the first blow fell and the spanking had begun.
Spankings were like a story: they began with a gradual introduction of the characters, got interesting with a dramatic plot, and finished with a tremendous climax that always left Charlie weeping and exhausted and yet somehow, strangely, satisfied.
The beginning was always rocky and torturous. The introductory spanks were not that hard but felt ten times worse as her body and mind tried to cope with the shock. The brush felt as heavy as a paddle and the ten inch handle gave it a wicked bite. She'd always have forgotten just how much it hurt. The stinging was so intense it amazed her, and half of her wanted to stand there and gawk in wonder. The other half wanted to run screaming from the room!
As the characters became more familiar to her and her bottom warmed up, the spanking entered a too-brief "not so bad" phase. This was just a momentary respite, an illusion caused by the relief of the first few smacks being absorbed and a relaxation by both the giver and the receiver. Then the story got going as the spanking picked up momentum. Suddenly any relief she'd felt was gone and in its place was unendurable agony.
Charlie had to react -- she couldn't help herself. The story was too powerful, too intense. She had to wiggle, to shake her pompoms, to give voice to her anguish and let the world know that she was suffering. Soon the spanking entered the next phase of the story, the one with exciting twists and turns and pulse-pounding adventure. A hand gripped her waist to minimize her writhing, while the heavy brush head continued to bounce across the balls of her butt. The cheeks, once an ivory so white it was like fresh dairy, now are burnished crimson and growing darker by the second.
This was the worst of the spanking, the endless middle, where there was nothing but agonizing pain. The paddle-brush ruthlessly reached every corner of her backside, reddening the crowns of both buttocks, the backs of her thighs, the tender undercurve of each meaty cheek. It worked on the outer edge of her hips, and when her frantic squirming widened the crevice between the mounds the wooden implement was able to apply pink color to that vulnerable inner flesh.
Charlie wept and wailed. She kicked her heels and sang her tales of woe. She sobbed like a baby and was reduced to an infant's mindless mind, collapsing in exhausted despair. This was when the hard paddle drove into the climax. It roared ahead, spanking furiously, taking advantage of the girl's weakened state to really pummel the sore and blistered cheeks. The round head flattened the bulbous tush repeatedly, rising and falling in a lightening blur. The spanks were awesomely hard, so sound it was a wonder the bath brush didn't snap in two. Even Charlie marveled at how she could endure such strict discipline, for she was out of tears and too hoarse to cry. The paddling rocked her entire body, and she grunted at the force of each awful spank.
Then, suddenly, the story was at the end. The spanking ceased, leaving behind a ravaged bottom burned eggplant purple and covered with crimson blisters. The brush head gently caressed the once-smooth rounds and even that mild action brought forth whines and tears from the well-spanked soul.
"Have you learned your lesson?" came the stern inquiry, and Charlie sobbingly confirmed that she had. In fact, she went further, promising not just regret for her actions, but flawless behavior for the eternal future.
But there was still the denouement to go, and the brush whacked down hard several times on each cheek, making her howl it shocked so badly after the pause, and then she was dumped off the lap and dragged to her feet and hauled to the corner, where fresh smacks to her chubby bottom reminded her to put her hands on her head and press her nose into the corner and not to touch her screaming bottom, no matter what.
"Stay and think about your behavior and the consequences it has earned you!"
Tearfully Charlie nodded, the pain behind still raging white-hot, but promising to ebb into warm relief. She could breathe again, so she panted and sighed, and slowly cherished the incomparable experience of a soundly spanked bottom.
The spanking story had come to a well-deserved end.