Rate This Story:

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.

Purchase this story in print form!

Don't like reading on screen? This story is available in print form in Ultimate Archive: Volume 1 at the Flogmaster's Bookstore. Purchase your copy today to encourage the Flogmaster to write more cool stories.


(****, M/f, Severe, Teen punishment, sex, masturbation)

A girl gets excited at the concept of severe punishment. (Approximately 5,315 words. Originally published 1998-04.)

Julie couldn't believe how much her ass hurt. Her cheeks were dancing with fire and still that horrid piece of wood kept crashing down on her rump. She yelped loudly at a particularly vicious wallop and gripped the couch cushions tighter, praying the paddling would soon be over. It felt like she'd been bent across the sofa arm for a year. Her arms and back ached from the tension of remaining in position, but that pain, of course, paled compared with throb of her buttocks.

"How do you like that, eh, Julie?" asked her father, bringing the paddle across her bottom with all his considerable strength.

The fifteen-year-old shivered and began to cry. "Oh, please, Daddy, enough!"

"Bah, we've hardly started, girl. I'm going to blister your bottom until you can't sit for a week. That ought to teach you not to disobey your father!" The large man began a fresh series of hard blows, each drawing gasps from the struggling girl.

As much as poor Julie hated to admit it, the spanking was having its effect. She was already vowing to herself to never earn another, and promising she'd never, ever, be late again. Tonight had been the fourth time in a month she'd come home after curfew, and her father had finally had enough. At fifteen Julie had never expected a spanking -- surely Daddy had been kidding when he'd said he'd tan her hide. She was too old to be spanked.

But here she was, bent over the sofa, her bottom throbbing. Julie had long since lost track of the blows. When she had been little her father had spanked her with a dozen or so, but tonight she'd received several dozen at least, and her father wasn't finished yet. How much longer would this agony last? The only saving grace was that she had been allowed to put on her white bicycle shorts -- admittedly tiny and molded to her plump rear, but far, far better than being bare bottomed like when she was ten!

"All right, Julie," said her father sternly. "You may get up now."

Julie stood slowly, her hands clutching her bottom, tears dripping down her face. She couldn't look at her father.

"Look at me!"

Shamefully, Julie raised her face until she saw him, blurry through her tears. She felt her body grow warm. His face was stern but his eyes were loving and kind. Julie knew he loved her very much. Since her mother had passed away when Julie was six, Julie had been the center of her father's life. Julie felt ashamed at her rebellious ways of late and promised herself she'd obey her father.

"I-I'm really sorry, Daddy," she sobbed. "I love you very much!"

Mr. Greggory smiled. He pulled his daughter to him in a tight bear-hug, holding her for a long time. "I know, dear. I love you very much too. But you are growing up; you have responsibilities. I cannot let you run wild like a stray cat."

Julie nodded, unable to speak. He pulled her away from him and studied her face.

"When you were younger spankings seemed to work for you, and I hope this is the last one I ever have to give you, but if you disobey me again, you will get two paddlings like you just got, both on the bare bottom, I don't care how grown up you think you are!"

"Daddy, please!" gasped the teenage girl in horror. "Not on the bare bottom. You can't!"

"Not another word, young lady, unless you'd like some more hardwood." Mr. Greggory tapped the paddle meaningfully, and Julie shook her head frantically. "Simply stay out of trouble and you won't get your bare bottom spanked. It won't even be an issue."

Julie nodded numbly, but she couldn't help but wonder if she would be able to escape such punishment. The thought of baring her bottom to her father made her tremble, and the thought of the paddle connecting with her bare cheeks frightened her even more.

Kissing her father goodnight, Julie went to bed. Safely under the covers and in the dark, she slipped off her panties and played with herself. It was more difficult than usual because she had to lie on her belly since her posterior was so sore; she had to arch her back and thrust her rump skyward to gain proper access to her secret place. The position was so reminiscent of her recent spanking, she couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to be waiting like that, bare bottomed, for the paddle.

Scarcely able to believe her own daring, Julie whipped the covers off, the cool air caressing the hot cheeks of her bottom, her hand pumping frantically inside her, shivering with fear at what would happen should her father, for some bizarre and unprecedented reason, open the door.

The resulting orgasm nearly blasted the girl out of bed it was so powerful, and though she buried her face in her pillow to muffle her cries, a loud moan escaped her lips. In seconds it was over and Julie collapsed on the bed in exhaustion, panting heavily, feeling the throb of her buttocks in sync with the wild thumping of her heart.

She pulled the covers over herself, sighing with contentment. A rustle of the doorknob made the pleasure vanish as every nerve in her body froze in horror. The door opened a crack and her father's head poked in, his voice concerned as he asked if everything was all right.

"Yes, Daddy, I'm fine," Julie said, weak with fear at her near capture. Her sex tingled with excitement at the thought.

"Did I hear you cry out?"

"Oh! I just forgot and rolled over on my tush. I didn't realize it was so sensitive."

"Oh." Mr. Greggory's voice was awkward. "I'm really sorry, dear. But you know you deserved it."

"I know, Daddy. And in a way I'm glad you love me enough to spank me. I mean, I don't want you to spank me, but I know you just want me to grow up responsible and everything."

"I'm glad you understand. Now you'd better get to sleep. You've got school tomorrow."

The next few days flashed by for Julie, and by Friday the spanking was a distant -- though profound -- memory. During lunch she heard the rumors of a party at Danny McCormick's house -- his parents had been called out of town and the party was expected to be stupendous. Everyone the least bit popular was going to be there, and Julie ached to go, but knew her father would never permit her going to an unchaperoned party.

But thoughts of her father vanished when 17-year-old Jason Springfield approached her at the end of the lunch hour. She'd had a crush on him for months. Recently she'd let the rumor escape that she was interested in him, and to her delight he casually asked if she'd like to go to Danny's party with him.

"I'd love to!" Julie said without thinking, and only after lunch did she realize her mistake. How was she going to talk her father into letting her go? She quickly decided that he would never allow it -- she'd have to go without permission.

The thought of attending a party illicitly, with all the associated dangers and risks, excited the fifteen-year-old. There was a slight chance she'd get caught, and with her father's new discipline methods that surely meant a bare bottom spanking -- but the temptation of dating an older boy like Jason was too much. Julie was going.

As she helped her father set the table for supper that night, Julie, in her most casual voice, mentioned she was "thinking" of going to study at Melissa's that night.

"We've got a history quiz on Monday. Melissa didn't call, did she, Daddy?"

"Not that I know of," said the man as he spooned spaghetti noodles onto plates.

"I guess I'll call her after dinner. I'm not sure what she has planned."

Her father didn't seem the least bit suspicious. "Getting your homework done early is a good idea. Remember we're visiting Grandma on Sunday."

Julie nodded. "Well, I might be a bit late tonight. Melissa and I have a lot of material to go over."

"Just be home by 11:30," warned her father. "You remember what will happen if you're late, don't you?"

The girl's face turned pink and she looked down at her plate.

"I'm 100% serious on this, Julie. I mean what I promised. I will paddle your bare bottom if you misbehave again."

"Yes, Daddy," Julie whispered, the tension between her legs mounting. It was terribly embarrassing to be sitting with her father eating dinner and discussing a topic like bare bottom spankings!

"Good. As long as you understand that, I have no problem with you going over there."

After supper, Julie pretended to call Melissa but really dialed time. As she had the imaginary conversation with her friend, she wondered if she were losing her mind. Every time her father looked up at her from his easy chair where he sat reading a novel, she thought he was seeing through her little scheme, and that any second he'd be ordering her to bend over and take down her panties so he could blister her bottom. Thinking about it made her weak and nervous. She could feel her panties becoming moist as she kissed her father goodnight and left the house a few minutes before seven.

Outside the house, Julie slipped off the long skirt she'd put on and headed off down the street dressed in the skin-tight mini she wore underneath. Jason was waiting for her at the corner in his red Camero. She'd told him that she was grounded and would have to sneak out, and Jason was glad -- it saved him the trouble of meeting the girl's father. The dad's were always pricks.

They drove to the party, which was already a madhouse. There were about fifty kids there, loud music, a keg of beer, and even some pot, though Julie stayed away from that. By eight o'clock most of the rooms upstairs were occupied, and the swimming pool was birthday suits only. Jason kept trying to get Julie to go but she managed to get out of it by saying she'd go a bit later. As she wandered back from using the restroom, she bumped into a tall red-haired girl.

"Melissa!" she cried out. "I thought you weren't coming."

Her friend grinned. "Well, I wasn't supposed to get out of the house since I'm grounded, but I finally convinced my mom to let me come to your house to study."

Julie felt something heavy hit her chest. "You told your mom you were going to my house? But I told my dad I'm at yours!"

Melissa giggled. "That's funny!" It was obvious from the way she grinned that she'd had more than her fair share of alcohol already.

"No it's not. What if your mom calls my dad?" Julie was annoyed and a bit frightened. Her bottom felt suddenly a little too prominent in her mini-skirt. If her father found out where she was... oh God! The punishment for lying and sneaking out without permission would make her recent paddling seem like love pats. As she imagined her father's fury, Julie's knees weakened and the damp spot between her legs swelled.

Then Jason was there, drawing Julie toward the pool with heavy whispers. As Melissa faded into the crowd Julie looked at the pool and felt embarrassed. It was a wild, noisy mess of naked bodies, explicit lewd behavior, and impertinent underwater games.

"Let's leave," she whispered in Jason's ear.

"But the party's just getting going!"

"Why don't we go somewhere quieter, you know, just the two of us?"

Ah! Jason's blue eyes swelled with greed at the thought and without a word to anyone, he dragged her from the place at top speed. In the privacy of his car he put an arm around the teenage girl and pulled her against him. He headed for Westview Drive, the infamous "parking" spot that overlooked the town.

"It's a gorgeous night," he said.

"Oh God!" gasped Julie, pointing to the dashboard. "Is that clock right?"

"Yeah. It's only eleven."

"But I've got to be home in a half hour!" Julie's face flushed and her bottom tingled.

"You're kidding!" Jason shook his head. "God I hate parents. They think they know everything."

He stopped the car in an appropriately dark spot and turned off the engine. The motor had scarcely died before he had Julie in a liplock that wiped clean the young girl's memory. She threw her arms around him and sucked and tongued and squealed loudly when his hands found her supple breasts.

"Oh, Jason!" she cried, not even sure herself if her words were encouragement or reprimand.

"God, you're a hot babe," growled the boy.

He pushed his seat back and dragged the girl into the slightly less cramped back seat. In seconds Julie's top was missing and her bra was coming off. She protested slightly, but then it was gone. Jason's hands enveloped her pert flesh, squeezing it in ways that made Julie's body fill with fireworks. Her nipples were hard as bone.

Jason left Julie's breasts and began to struggle with removing Julie's mini-skirt and panties. Sighing dizzily, Julie glanced out the window and saw another car parked not ten feet away.

"God! Someone will see us!" she cried, tensing up and trying to catch Jason's hands.

"No one pays any attention. Come on, help me get these off."

As the last of her clothing vanished Julie couldn't help but wonder what she'd do if someone caught her. She was naked -- what kind of ordinary explanation would wash? "Oh, sorry, sir! It's not what you think -- we were just trying to get a bee that flew into my panties."

As Jason pressed her her down onto the car seat, Julie began to wonder if that the car was their neighbor's, Mr. Allenberry. Didn't he drive a blue Taurus? He would surely tell her father! And if her father found out, oh God, the spankings would be long and many!

Even as these terrible fears assaulted her, another assault was overwhelming Julie's feeble protests. The sparks going off between her legs as she felt the boy so near her, his hands all over her slender body, were distracting her. She knew, distantly, that there was something important going on. There was something she was supposed to remember. Something about her father _spanking_ her. But the thought of her paddling, how toasted her ass had been, and the incredible rush she'd felt in her bed that night, aroused poor Julie all the more, and she released herself to her wild feelings.

Suddenly it was much later. Julie lay in Jason's arms cooing softly, the glowing smiles on both their faces telling all. The car was warm and Jason rolled down one of the rear windows.

"I wish I had a cigarette," he said.

"You smoke?" asked Julie, tracing an outline on his bare chest next to her cheek.

"Not really. That's why I don't have one. Wait! Brad left a pack in the glove compartment the other day. Do you mind?"

Julie sighed. "Oh, don't move. Let's stay like this forever."

"I thought you had a curfew."

The words were like a slap. Julie bolted upright, terrified to look at the clock. Her heart swelled until her chest could scarcely contain it.

"Please don't tell me it's past 11:30," she said.

"All right, I won't," grinned Jason, leaning forward and nibbling on the delectable breasts dangling in front of him.

Julie glanced into the front seat and groaned. The clock glowed 12:10. Tears stung her eyes. "God, I'm late," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"Yeah, so?" mumbled Jason, his lips full of nipple.

"You don't understand what that means..."

"You're late. It's no big deal. You'll be grounded next week. You'll just have to sneak out again."

Julie didn't have the courage to correct the boy, but she did begin searching for her clothes. "I've _got_ to get home, Jason. I'm in _big_ trouble." Julie's naked sex throbbed as she tugged her damp white panties up her legs and over her hips. The thought that she'd be bringing them down very soon, for a painful purpose, made her shiver.

"Okay, okay," said Jason. He was in a contented mood. Whatever this girl wanted she got. He pulled his shirt on and climbed into the front seat and started the car. As he drove, Julie dressed. He stopped a few blocks from her house. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Jason. It was great tonight, really. Call me next week?"

"Sure, babe."

Julie slipped out of the car and watched as the glow of the tail lights faded into darkness. She was alone. It was dark and very late. Early actually. It was early Saturday. Depressed, Julie hung her head and walked. She was painfully aware of every aspect of her body as she moved. There was the slight ache between her legs where Jason had thrust into her, the cold dampness of her panties, and the mild tingling in her breasts as though he still fondled her. Julie blushed and grew warm thinking of her illicit behavior. If Daddy found out...


Julie knelt in the shadows and stared at the house in horror. The living room light was lit. That meant her father was waiting for her. She was going to get that double paddling like it or not. She could almost feel her panties coming down, the heavy wooden paddle smacking her bare cheeks, the sting even more fierce than her last spanking.

Julie rubbed her bottom ruefully, wondering how it would be feeling in a few minutes. A warm glow swelled between her legs and without really being conscious of it, she brought her hand to her front and rubbed. The warmth grew rapidly, flooding her with excitement. She eagerly lifted her tiny skirt and rubbed her crotch, her body convulsing with gradually more intense shudders. She could see herself, naked and bent over the kitchen table, her bare ass blister red as her father walloped her with the big paddle. She rubbed even faster.

Suddenly Julie's sex exploded with a flash of brilliance. Profound satisfaction coursed through her and she sighed so deeply it was nearly a moan of contentment. She realized with surprise she couldn't see very well -- it was as though the orgasm had blinded her. She remembered something about masturbation leading to blindness. But wasn't that just for boys? She took hesitantly her hand away from her sex.

Julie's dilemma vanished as she heard the distinct crunch of footsteps behind her. She whirled around, expecting the grim visage of her father.

It was not her father, but Michael Allenberry, the neighbor kid. He was grinning from ear to ear and waving a Polaroid camera.

"Have I got the shot!" he roared. "Oh, mama!"

"God, Mike! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, just out taking in the sights. You'd be surprised what happens in this neighborhood at night."

"Is that -- "

"You betcha," the kid grinned, holding up a square photo. "It's coming in real good. Wow, you can see your hand in your panties and everything!"

Dread kicked Julie in the stomach. She wanted to vomit. Mike had always been a prick -- twice she'd caught him trying to peep her. She knew the telescope at his bedroom window was pointing at the stars just for show.

"Please, Mike," she whispered, licking her lips and trying to smile in a friendly way. It was hard work. "Give me the picture."

"Hell no. I'm taking this to school. I bet a lot of guys would pay money just to look at this."

"No!" Julie hissed. She leaped forward, trying to grab the picture, but the boy was too fast, moving away and holding the picture high above his head.

"Hey! Take it easy!" he yelled. His voice dropped. "Do you want to wake up the neighborhood? I'd have to show your father the picture..."

The thought of her father seeing the print was the last straw. Julie felt her legs weaken and she fell to her knees on the grass and began to cry. Mike didn't say anything, but she could feel him watching her. Finally he spoke. His voice wasn't as mean as usual.

"Oh, all right. Tell you what, Julie. You suck me and I'll let you have the picture."

For sixty long seconds Julie seethed with inexpressible rage. Gradually the untenableness of her position penetrated her brain. She looked at Mike, thin, mousy-looking, young and arrogant, and she hated him. The thought of him having control over her was repugnant, but she couldn't let him keep the picture.

"Okay," she whispered.

Quietly, in the darkness outside her house, she crawled on her hands and knees to the teenage boy and unzipped his pants. It was over in seconds. He was hard when she reached inside. Her lips barely had to touch him before he spurted. Still, the experience made her desperately ache to rinse out her mouth.

Mike gave her the picture. Julie was a bit surprised. She'd have expected him to run off as soon as it was over, but apparently he'd been too overcome by the experience to do more than stand there weakly. She tore the picture into smaller and smaller shreds until there was nothing left. Then she rose and dusted herself off, and prepared to enter the house. Perhaps she could bluff her way through.

She opened the door softly. The living room was deserted. Feeling some hope, Julie closed the door behind her. Her body tingled all over -- she could scarcely breathe she was so excited and terrified.

Her father was nowhere to be seen. Julie forced herself to take a deep breath. He was most likely asleep -- he'd just left the light on for her.

Stepping into the living room, Julie froze. On the coffee table were three prominent items: the massive hardwood paddle Julie had learned to dread, the curled snake of her father's thick leather belt, and the long white nylon riding crop. Julie nearly choked. Black fear, cold and damp, seeped from her chest and filled her entire body. She couldn't move. Her tongue was dry and dead in her mouth. The paddle, belt, and crop danced before her eyes, taunting her -- there was no question what they were for.

"So you decided to test me, eh?"

Julie whirled around. Her father was sitting at the kitchen table, his head resting on his hands. He did not seem happy.

"Oh! Daddy! I'm sorry I'm late. Really I am. It's just that--"

"I don't want to hear it!" he roared, rising and walking toward her.

Julie wanted to shrink to ant-size. She began to cry and closed her mouth, trembling in fear. Her father was angry, angrier than she'd ever seen him. Instinctively she knew there was no escaping what he had planned.

"Didn't I tell you what would happen if you came home late?"

Julie stared at the floor. "Yes, sir," she whispered.

"You've got a minimum of two paddlings coming for that!" he growled. "Now I want you to tell me where you've been -- exactly -- and if you lie, you're definitely getting that crop over there."

It was all over. To Julie if felt as though the floor had dropped open and she'd fallen right into the pit of doom. He knew everything, naturally. When she hadn't come home, he'd called Melissa's house and the truth had come out.

"I -- I'm sorry, Daddy," she moaned, beginning to cry again. "There-there was this party at Danny McCormick's house and I wanted to go. I didn't think you'd let me, so I pretended I was going to Melissa's to study. I'm sorry."

"So you lied to me, and you went to a party. That's the belt, then. Why didn't you think I'd let you go to the party?"

For a long time Julie couldn't answer -- she knew her father wouldn't like the truth -- but finally she managed. "It was an unchaperoned party," she admitted. "Danny's parents are out of town."

"And I suppose there was alcohol?"

Julie nodded.

"Definitely the crop for that. But we're going to start with your first paddling. Fetch that paddle and get your ass over here. I want you over my lap for this one."

"Please, Daddy," began Julie, but when she saw her pleading only angered him more, she dashed for the paddle. It was heavier than she expected. She quickly moved to him. He'd pulled out a kitchen chair and sat on it, and she draped herself over his broad legs. Her body felt tiny and vulnerable, her little mini-skirt providing no protection.

He immediately lifted the little flap of cloth and brought the paddle down with ferocious blam! on her panties.

"Oooh!" Julie squealed, wiggling frantically. Her hands were on the floor, holding her up, her ass seemingly a long ways away. As the paddle slammed into her again, her buttocks tingled and burned. But Julie was just grateful he wasn't spanking her bare bottom.

After a dozen blows had quieted Julie, her father suddenly pulled her to her feet. "Take down your panties," he ordered. Julie felt like she'd been slapped. Weeping, she pulled down her underwear. Her skin felt the cool air of exposure and she blushed mightily.

Then she was back over his lap, hands on the floor and ass in the air. But this time her ass was naked. The stinging pain from each blow was amazing. Julie couldn't believe the waves of hurt flowing through her. It terrified her to think that this was only the beginning of her agony. That fear became excitement as she imagined how she must look, how red and sore her ass must be, and how many more swats her father had planned.

As the paddling intensified, Julie's desire soared. The pulsing between her legs was overwhelming. She arched her back, offering her ass up to the pain, welcoming the distraction. With a deep moan she burst with orgasm.

Her timing couldn't have been better. With just a few more hard swats her father paused.

"That was your first paddling," he said. "I want you to stand up, take off all your clothes -- everything -- and go stand in the corner with your hands on your head. If you even _think_ of touching your bottom, you'll be over my lap for extra!"

Sobbing, Julie got to her feet and began to undress. It didn't even occur to her to argue. She knew she was going to get it, and the only thing that could save her was cooperation.

Naked, she went to the corner and stood. She put her hands on her head. Her buttocks ached unbearably and she wanted desperately to feel the sore and punished flesh, but she couldn't forget her father's ominous words. She had plenty of spanking coming tonight without earning any extra.

For a long time nothing happened. Julie slowly stopped crying and her bottom went from blazing to a dull warmth. At least a half hour had passed, she figured. Her father was nowhere to be seen. She wondered what he was doing. She thought about rubbing her bottom, but quickly canceled that idea as too risky.

"Turn around."

Julie turned. Her father was holding the big paddle. He pointed to the center of the kitchen.

"Stand there and bend over and grab your ankles. You've got two dozen butt-busters coming."

Shuddering, Julie obeyed. She could see he was planning on using both hands to swing the paddle, and she knew that meant it literally would bust her ass. The thought of that caused a sharp spurt of desire between her legs. She quickly got in position and held her ankles as best she could. It was awkward and humiliating, but she had far bigger worries: an 8-by-18 piece of hardwood in particular.

"Unless you want to fall over, spread your legs wider. Come on, wider! if you fall over or try to get up, the stroke won't count and I'll add on extras to boot!"

Julie struggled to get into a satisfactory position. She just wished he'd get it over with. All the waiting was driving her pussy wild.

The first blow dampened that rain cloud. The pain was blinding. Julie was nearly knocked over the force was so great. She clutched her ankles and held on for dear life. There was no way she wanted any extras of these!

Again and again the paddle walloped across her backside. Julie's tears flowed freely. Somehow she remained in position. She counted the blows backward from 24 in her mind, drawing closer and closer to that blessed zero.

At around eight she was surprised to feel a buzzing between her legs. By six she was positive: she was horny as a sailer and the paddle swats weren't reducing her hunger. In fact, every blow increased her desire. By four she was rocking her hips back and forth, eager for the next assault. At three the build-up in her sex was too much too bear, but somehow she held off until number two. Then she shrieked and shuddered as a violent orgasm tore through her. She hardly felt the last smack.

"That was for coming home late," said Julie's father. "Now for your lying: into the living room for your strapping."

Head hung low and resisting the incredible urge to rub her blistered bottom, Julie preceded her father. She stretched out on the sofa as ordered, and waited. She didn't have to wait long.

Her father spared her buttocks but laid the heavy leather belt across the back of her thighs. Julie shrieked and kicked her legs in terror. The pain was fresh and new, the sensation unbearable. For a long time Julie thought she was dying with every stroke. Her father spread the blows, landing them all over her thighs, and with so much surface area it was quite a while before he began to overlap welts. As the whipping progressed Julie became more and more aroused. She imagined that her father would never stop whipping her -- that was good for a sudden, sharp, mini-orgasm right then. Then she imagined him spreading her legs apart and whipping her exposed sex, the heavy leather belt striking the tender lips. It was too much: Julie came again.

But still the belt came down. Julie was in the midst of her third orgasm when the whipping stopped. She moaned, still writhing as though the belt was striking her. Her hands clutched the sofa pillows so tightly she tore the fabric. A bizarre part of her brain wished it wasn't over, that there was more.

"We still have the crop for your going to an unchaperoned party," said her father, and suddenly Julie was terrified, her sex quivering with fantastic desire. Oh, she wanted more, but not right now. Her body was so well-beaten she wouldn't be able to feel it properly. Her heartfelt sobs softened her father's heart.

"You've had enough tonight," he whispered, giving her a deep hug. "I'll give you the crop tomorrow."

So Julie lay in bed, one hand in her sex, the other rubbing her battered ass, and thought about the future: particularly a tomorrow future where she'd be naked and bending over, waiting for a dozen lashes from a long, thin, whippy riding crop. Surely those pencil-wide marks would last for days, or even weeks!

Oh, the anticipation was too much. With a low moan, Julie began to come. Again. Sometimes, being bad felt soooo good!

The End

Rate This Story: