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, Severe, non-consensual paddling, whipping)
Coming home late earns a teen a spanking. (Approximately 2,327 words. Originally published 1985-10.)
The girl stood outside of the house, and looked up at the high window. She glanced around and then climbed onto the nearby shed. She was very slender and nimble, and would have climbed easily except for the long dress she had on. She turned and looked out toward the street and watched the car of her date drive away.
It was his fault she was so late. And now her Father would be waiting for her. Why did he have to be so strict? But he was, and now that she was late for the second time this week, he would keep to his promise and punish her. Of course, he wasn't like most parents, who would just ground their sixteen-year-old daughter for a while. H had to do that and also give her something to remember. She hadn't forgotten, that was for sure. The last time she had gotten a whipping had been just 17 days ago. If she wasn't careful, she would get another one now.
She stretched up on her tip toes, trying to reach the window of her room. She finally grasped the end, and began to pull herself up. After what seemed like ages, she managed to get one knee on to the window sill, and then reached in with her hands. She tried to grab her desk, but something was wrong. Her desk was not where it was supposed to be. She fell forward and held in a cry of pain as her knee hit the window sill as it followed her in. She heard a sound and froze, wondering if she had made too much noise. She lay there, humped over the window sill, legs hanging out, dress fallen over her head, and her underwear-covered bottom exposed to the world. She lay in that awkward position for a long time, waiting.
She did not hear any more sounds from below, and was about to move, when wham! something smacked onto her bottom with a painful blow. She gasped and almost cried out when another spank came down, and then another, and another. It took her a moment to figure out that it was her dad paddling her, but when she did, she leaped into action. Pulling away from her dad, she tried to move to the other side of the room. Her dad grabbed at her and ended up with her dress. He held that and it ripped right down the back.
He stood holding the torn dress in his hand and snarled, "That'll be the last dress you ever buy." And then he threw the dress down and darted after her. Rebecca, meanwhile, was trying to find something to put on. A bra and underwear were no protection from her father's paddle. That thing was an inch thick and made of hard oak. It sure hurt, too. Her rump was still stinging, and her father had just begun.
She turned, and slipped over to the other side of the room, but her father was right behind her. She had a big room, but not big enough for this type of chase. So she tried to slip past him and almost made it. The thin shirt she had slipped on in an effort of protection proved her undoing, as her father caught a hold of it as he had her dress.
Again as she fought to get away, the material tore. This time her father was trying to grab her, and managed to get a hold of her bra strap as the shirt ripped. The bra snapped and she slipped away, only to be caught by her underwear. This was too attached to her and would not rip. She was desperate and so dove to the ground and wriggled off her panties. She was stark naked, but didn't care, as long as she escaped from her dad.
She leaped up and ran for the door. It was locked. She struggled with it, but couldn't open it, of course. Her father was there in an instant and grabbed her. "Think I'd leave the door unlocked for you to get away by? I locked it as soon as I heard you come climbing up." He flicked on the light.
Rebecca looked at her room and saw that her father had moved everything away from the window. He had locked her closet, and her dresser was nowhere to be seen. He was standing there, breathing heavily, but with a pleased, successful smile on his face. "Well, I was going to strip you away," he said, pulling her over to the bed and sitting her upon it, "but since you are already nude, I don't need to."
She sat on the bed, waiting for the lecture sure to come, and the even worse punishment to follow. She felt uneasy sitting there totally naked, even though it was just her dad there. It still was uncomfortable. Which was probably what her dad wanted anyway.
"Now listen," he said, forcing her to look into his face. "I am going to have to spank you. I told you the other day that you were not to come home late again this week. I am going to ground you from visiting anyone or going out on dates for one month from today. But to help you remember, I will give you a spanking."
Something inside Rebecca revolted. "Dad 1 would you stop treating me like a kid? I'm sixteen. I don't need to be spanked! That's for little babies!"
"Look, I know you're sixteen. That is why I spank you harder than I used to."
That is for sure, thought Rebecca.
"And don't talk back, either, or I'll give you a few extra."
Rebecca frowned and tried not to look concerned, even though she really was. All of a sudden, she realized she was cold. The window was wide open, and come to think of it, her father must have opened it, since she didn't. Also, she was naked, and she was now freezing. She got up and went over to close the window, when her father jumped up and escorted her. "Just making sure you don't try to jump out, you know. Although that would make a pretty sight, seeing you run down the road without a stitch of clothing on!"
Rebecca didn't say anything. She didn't think it sounded funny, though her dad must have from the way he was laughing. She reached up to pull down the window, but it was stuck. She had to stretch as high as she could to reach the small piece of wood that was blocking it. As she did so, she heard laughter from the ground, and looked and saw about five guys cutting across their lawn. At first, she was going to tell them to leave, but because the street light was shining directly at her, she couldn't see if they were friends or not. Then Rebecca realized that she was making a perfect picture for the guys, standing nude in a window, arms stretched high, with a street light outlining her perfectly.
She gasped and folded her arms across her chest, hiding her round and perfect breasts. Then she moved her right leg to cover up her lower body, but in doing this discovered that she revealed the shapeliness of her legs and her butt.
She was used to guys ogling her, but only a few times had she been seen nude. Once when the boys raided the girls' locker room at school she had found herself in the same predicament, as she had been without a towel, and had no means of obtaining one as the boys stole them. Several other times when during gym or track she had been "pantsed" by some guys.
Finally she gained enough presence of mind to close the curtain, but even then she was pitifully aware of how thin and wispy the drapes were. She convince her father to close the window for her. He teased her and said that the window wasn't stuck, but that she had just wanted to be seen longer by the guys. Rebecca just glared at him, but was quiet. He seemed so fatherly at times like that. She wanted him to be fatherly, but she couldn't because of their differences. If he would just stop this stupid spanking bit. It was all right when she was a kid, but now it was ridiculous.
Rebecca's father turned around. Looking at her, he said, "I suppose we'd better started." Rebecca paled as he pulled out the heavy and hard wooden paddle, and felt like pleading and begging with him. But she knew it wouldn't work, and if anything, would only cause him to increase the amount.
"How many times?" she said tentatively.
"Only 15 or so," he said, "depending of course on how you behave and cooperate." He smiled. "Turn around and lie over the chair."
Rebecca sighed, and very nervously got into position. She ended up in approximately the same position she had been over the window sill, with her head and arms and upper body hanging down on one side of the chair, with her legs on the other. Her round, smooth, and shapely rump stuck up high, right where her father could whack it.
She waited, knowing that waiting was the worst part. The only thing she was glad about was that she was only getting fifteen hits. Normally she received 20 to 30. But the reason she was getting less, was probably because she was naked, and had no protection, and was getting paddled on bare skin. So that probably evened out the advantage of less smacks.
Wham! The first hit came down with such force it pushed her butt down into the chair, and she gasped and a cry came from her lips. She would get an extra one for that. Her buttocks were stinging and burning, and she could feel how hot they must be. The tears poured from her eyes, and though she tried to stop them, she couldn't. They ran down unto the carpet and were absorbed.
The second hit was worse than the first. She had relaxed after the first one, and now her whole seat end regretted it. Her butt was burning and she wanted to grab it, and hold onto it and somehow stop the burning pain, but she couldn't, She squirmed and wriggled, but it didn't help.
The third hit seemed to be the end. The pain was so intense she felt like screaming. She had tensed up this time, and now the pain was not only stinging, but also a soreness of the muscles themselves. She wriggled some more, trying to find the least painful position.
The fourth one came down mostly on the right buttock, and she almost fell off the chair. She grasped the legs and held on tight, gritting her teeth against the severe pain in her right backside.
Her father must have noticed he hit her more to the right, cause he told her to stop wiggling. "Stop wiggling, or I'll cane you!" As soon as Rebecca heard that she froze in horror, because the only thing worse than her dad's paddling was her dad's caning.
The next few came in rapid succession, and seemed to be dealt even harder. But the pain had reached as sort of peak and could go no higher. Rebecca lay across the chair, trying not to wiggle and not to cry out.
Then her father put down the paddle and Rebecca saw it was covered with blood. She looked back over to her backside, and discovered it was all bloody. She thought it was all over, when her father came back with a short horsewhip. It was a plastic rod about 2.5 feet long, flexible, and very whippy.
She leaped up in horror, and her father switched her a good one across the back of her left thigh. She grabbed her leg in pain and saw a long thin red streak across her leg. It burned with fire and tears poured down her face. It hurt to walk, as her butt was very tender and sore, and every step caused it to rotate. But she hurried across the room, away from her dad.
But he came after her, warning her that her behavior was going to cause him to give her extra. He swished the short plastic whip again and again. And every blow cause Rebecca agonizing pain. Her legs were crisscrossed with red strips, and still the whip came down. Rebecca turned in an effort to block the next blow, and the whip descended upon her already punished rear end.
The pain caused her to yelp, and she jumped forward, turning around. The next blow was even harder, as her father was angry because she had cried out. The whip came around and flashed across her two smooth, perfect breasts, and left a red mark stretching across them both. Rebecca almost screamed in pain, and clutched her chest. The next one caught her cheek, causing it to bleed.
Her father stopped. "Rebecca my dear, I didn't mean to hit you there. He pointed at her breasts and cheek. I'm really sorry." He picked her up carefully and laid her on the bed. "That is why I don't like you to run around like that. Things like this happen."
He sounded so sincere, but could Rebecca believe him? She wanted to, oh, how she wanted to. "Look," he said, "this is the last time. I will never spank you again. I promise."
Rebecca looked at him. "Do you really mean it?" He nodded, and she laid back down. She was happy now. Her father loved her a lot, she knew that. He just had a different way of showing it. "Do you have a washcloth?" she asked smiling.
"Sure," he said, and went off to get one.