The Diary

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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.

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Disclosure: This story contains too many spankings to list in the header. Suffice it to say that it is mostly teenage girls getting spanked, and if that ain't your cup of joe, go drink someplace else!

The Diary

(*****, MF/Ff, Severe, Cons spanking, humor)

If spankophiles lived in a perfect world, this is what it would be like. (Approximately 6,707 words. Originally published 1998-11.)

9.8.2132

Today is my sixteenth birthday. I am so excited. I am finally a woman, recognized by both man and state as an adult. I received many presents: clothing, books, jewelry. But my favorite is you, diary, a special gift from my father. I shall tell you everything, recording all my thoughts and dreams. We shall be the greatest of friends, you and I, and we shall never betray one another.

Oh, I must go now. Daddy has a special surprise for me. I think I know what it is--at least I hope I do--I can't imagine anything more grand. I'll write more later.

9.8.2132

I'm back. It is late at night now. Everyone is asleep but me. I'm too excited to sleep. It has been a long and exciting day. So many new things and so much to look forward too.

I got my first whipping a short time ago. Daddy took me out to the stables and whipped me with a long leather strap. I don't know if I can describe it. It was soooo amazing! The feelings that coursed through my body with each explosion of pain -- it was marvelous. I am still giddy with delight.

It wasn't what I expected, exactly. It was far better. Over the years I've seen Daddy whipping Mom or my sister and I've only been able to stand in the shadows and watch, too young to join in. But not any more. I'm sixteen! I'm a woman!

When Daddy took my hand and winked at me, I knew where we were going. I was so excited I could hardly breathe. I glanced around the room at all the birthday party guests and everyone was laughing and smiling and waving at me. They all knew my time had come. They all knew it was my first, and the first time is always the most special.

I followed Daddy outside. It was just the two of us, which made me happy. I was nervous enough without an audience. Later there'll be public whippings, many of them, I'm sure, but today, it was just my father and I, and I was very happy.

Daddy did not draw it out. As soon as he had shut the stable door he ordered me to strip completely, and I watched with wide eyes as he crossed the dirt floor and took a long strip of leather from a nail on the far wall. I was trembling as I began to take off my clothes. My body felt fantastically alive. My skin was smooth and perhaps slightly damp with nervous sweat. My heart pounded within my chest and I felt a huge knot in my belly. This was it. There was no turning back now, no escaping it. I was about to become a woman, a real woman, for the very first time.

I thought of my sister Margo's first time. I remember her running into the house, weeping with joy and glorious pain and embracing my mother. At the time I had only a vague idea of what had happened, but I knew it was significant because of the way Daddy acted. He appeared so proud of Margo, and when, later in the evening, I was specifically told she'd received a whipping, I ran to Daddy and pleaded with him to whip me, too, but of course he refused.

Now, standing naked before my father, this dream become reality, it seemed too good to be true. My bottom tingled as I slowly walked toward my father, and it seemed as though a hand pushed itself between my legs. I felt a sharp pain there, and then I realized it wasn't a pain at all but pleasure of such intensity it hurt. I was aroused and wet, and ready for my whipping.

As Daddy bent me across the posts of an empty stall and strapped my wrists to the beam beneath me, I wondered how this was going to feel. I remembered the time my childhood friend Eric and I, experimenting, had given each other spankings. It hadn't hurt very much, slapping each other's bottoms with our hands, but it had been exciting, forbidden, and dangerous. I had never felt such incredible longing and desire. When Helga the maid caught us and dragged us to Eric's father we were scolded and forbidden to see each other for a full month, and Helga got a sound paddling as a reward for catching us. Daddy had been very upset with me, and every time he looked at me I felt his disappointment. I was very ashamed and never tried getting spanked again, though I had a couple boyfriends that wanted to.

But now I am sixteen, and a woman, and after my first whipping I can now be spanked by whomever I want. Perhaps I shall look up Eric -- I think his family moved somewhere near New Washington -- and ask him to spank me, this time for real. Perhaps I shall spank him, too, if he'd like me too. I haven't thought much of that, but it might be fun!

Oh, diary, listen to me talk. I am such a naughty girl! My whole body is nothing but naughty feelings and thoughts. I cannot get rid of them. They come to me unbidden and they will not leave until I have thought them. Oh, I shall have to ask Mother if she will discipline me tomorrow. Perhaps with the cane. I know how much she enjoys using it on Margo, and Margo always says it is the best pain she can imagine. I shall ask Mother, but I won't tell her why. if she knew how naughty I am she would no doubt forbid me such pleasure.

But back to my tale. Or do I mean tail? Ha ha! Daddy had me bound firmly to the rails. I knew this was going to be a long, thorough whipping, probably more severe than most, because as everyone knows your first whipping is always the best, and must be made most memorable.

I heard the sound of the first stroke before I felt it, which struck me as odd. I was astonished by the loudness of the leather against my naked flesh, and I felt a flash of terror pass through me. It frightened me that I felt nothing. But my fear was gone in a fraction of a second as the pain suddenly hit me, an impossibly sharp sting that seemed to cut right into my ass cheeks. Without even thinking I howled out loud. The pain of that cut was astonishing. It made me feel weak inside, knowing how much more powerful that pain was than I, a mere mortal teenage girl.

Daddy took his time. He waited perhaps a full minute before the next stroke, allowing me time to savor the first. Savor it I did. I swallowed it hungrily, gulping it down with an eagerness that frightened me. Waves of tingling feeling washed through me, going to every part of my body and waking it up. My pussy awoke first, being so close to my ass, I suppose, and it began to drip moisture and send electric pulses through my body. I could feel my toes wiggling, the hair on my head standing on end, my breasts swelling and shaking.

"Wooooweeeee!" I screamed as loud as I could. "That was fucking incredible!"

Daddy gave a broad laugh and I heard the subtle hiss as he jerked the leather strap back behind his head for another blow. I knew it was coming and braced myself, my body alive with anticipation. I did not wait long.

With a whoosh of air the strap came down and cracked across my cheeks with such force I could feel my ass being squished. The belt lifted off and I felt a healthy glowing fire ignite in a two-inch strip full across both cheeks. My butt was on fire! I gasped air frantically and wiggled my tail as best and as fast as I could, hoping to cool the flames slightly. The pain was awe-inspiring. It wiped out all my thoughts. I could only feel pain, pure, sweet, liquid fire dripping down my ass and thighs. (Only later did I realize this was pussy-drippings, which in my confused state felt like fire.)

As my mind fogged with orgasm I heard that leather strike me again and again, and I heard myself moaning and screaming uncontrollably. I did not care. My ass was nothing but fire, ticklish flames that licked and teased me, frantic pulsing and throbbing. It was engulfing. I was lost in it.

I can't count the number of times I came during that whipping, but it must have been at least several. When I awoke I was unbound and my father was gone. My ass and the back of my legs throbbed with countless blistering welts. I touched myself back there in amazement, my skin covered with raised weals and pebble-like bumps of soreness. I groaned loudly, almost a purr of contentment. My body felt vigorous and alive. I longed for a cool shower.

Leaving my clothes I ran to the pool and dove in. There were still guests about, but I didn't care. I dove deep into the water and swam along the bottom, the stillness profound and refreshing. I stayed down until my lungs were bursting for lack of air and then I shot the surface and exploded from the water, gasping as though I'd just had the most magnificent orgasm of my life, which, in a sense, I had.

Oh, my ass is sooooo sore, I must massage myself. I'm sleeping on my belly tonight, diary, and perhaps I shall wait a day or two before I ask Mother for the caning. I feel very full right now. There is much for me to think about. More so soon, though I desire it, will overwhelm me.

I grow tired now. I will write more tomorrow.

9.9.2132

Good morning, diary. I have to leave for school in a few minutes but I wanted to write a little more. This morning I am still sore, though not as bad as last night. The amazing thing is my ass is all purple! Yes, the welts that were so red last night are now dark and purplish. It doesn't hurt that bad but it sure looks awful! I can't wait to show the girls. Bye!

I'm back. I saw Kathy and Janice at school today. They were giggling as I came up. Neither of them has been whipped yet, and they were full of questions. We went into the restroom and I had to take down my jeans and panties so they could see the marks. Soon a whole crowd developed. Everyone was impressed. Denice was there, and she claimed I got it harder than Della Court did on her initiation, and everyone knows that Della's father is brutal with her, whipping her at least twice a week. Denice was quite jealous, I think. She's a senior and we rarely talk, but today she was friendly.

"How often does your sister get it?" she asked me as we headed for class.

I shrugged. "It depends. At least once a week, sometimes more."

"As hard as you just got?"

"I suppose. I don't really know how to compare."

Denice looked smug and wistful and hugged her books to her chest as we walked. "You are a lucky girl to have such dedicated father," she said when we'd reached the door to her classroom. "My father finds it a chore to discipline me just once a month."

I smiled at her in sympathy. I realized that is why Denice always hangs around with the athletes. She never dates anyone but huge tugball players, and I think it's because she likes their hard, brutal nature. If a girl's father isn't going to beat her properly, she will have to find someone who will.

9.11.2132

It's the weekend. This morning I got up early and bravely told Mother that I needed a caning. She appeared surprised and asked if I shouldn't wait a week or so. "Too much pleasure at once isn't good," she said.

"Please, Mum? I'll do the dishes after supper tonight."

Finally, she relented, but promised to only give me six. I begged for a dozen but she almost swore off giving me any, and I gave in. Six was better than none. She said we'd take care of it right after breakfast, which meant I had two hours to wait. It was horrible. I helped her with breakfast but my eyes kept straying to that slender rod in the corner, looking so innocent and yet containing such power.

I was so distracted I kept forgetting to do what mother wanted, standing idling in the kitchen with breakfast plates in my hand, for instance, my mind fantasizing what the cane would feel like. Finally mother had enough.

"You're mind just isn't with it, child! Let's get it over with so you can concentrate." She reached for the cane and I felt my stomach flip completely over. Suddenly I was afraid.

At that moment Margo bounced into the kitchen, her huge twenty-year-old breasts barely contained by her skimpy tank top. She was wearing skimpy shorts, too, and it was obvious she was going jogging, but I knew it wasn't for the exercise but for the chance to show off her figure to the neighborhood boys.

Margo instantly saw the cane and got a pouty look on her face. "Aw, how come she gets it, Mum! I've been a good girl. Don't I get it too? Please?"

Mother must have been in a great mood because she consented right away, and the three of us headed for the front lawn. This was one of Mother's rules--she always caned on the front lawn so everyone could see. It made the process a hundred times for exciting, and of course far more embarrassing.

Once on the lawn Margo and I stripped nude--I was still in my nightgown and robe, in fact. Then the two of us bent over and grabbed our ankles. Mother stepped up behind us. "Oh, your bottom has healed nicely, Kay," she said to me. She sounded surprised. "I suppose a dozen would be appropriate after all. You have been a good girl this week."

"Thank you, Mum!" I exclaimed, totally excited. This was a dream, being caned with my big sister. I hoped I wouldn't cry too much and shame us both.

Mother started with Margo, delivering a rapid six cuts with the cane. Each stroke sounded like a firecracker. Margo hissed through her teeth and wiggled slightly, but didn't cry out. I was impressed. Then Mother approached me. I was very frightened, but my body was aroused with excitement. I finally felt like a real woman, being caned naked on our front lawn.

The cane was far more intense than the strap. The pain is much more focused. You can feel each stripe long after the cane has gone away, and the welts are there for days. The skin puffs up in thin quarter-inch weals that are fantastically sensitive -- sitting down becomes an erotic adventure.

Mother gave me three cruel slices, and while I was gasping for oxygen and trying to compose myself, I heard Margo receiving her second set of six. I couldn't see how she could take it -- three at once was plenty for me. When Mother came back and gave me another three it was all I could do not to scream. The stinging was amazing. My ass felt like it was shredded. I could have sworn I felt blood dripping, but again, it was probably my pussy.

Margo got another six and I another three until I'd gotten a dozen and Margo double that. By then I couldn't stop crying. Margo was smiling as she stood up. Though I was in agony over the caning, I could not help being a little jealous of my older sister. She took the pain so well, not crying and fussing like I did. I longed for the day when I could take two dozen with a smile.

Margo did have tears in her eyes, though, and these she wiped off with her shirt as she got dressed and prepared to go on her run. I couldn't believe she still wanted to run after that.

"You're still going running?" I exclaimed.

"Oh, it's great, sis. You should try it. When your ass gets all sweaty it stings so terrible you just can't imagine it. It's heaven. I wish I could get the cane every time I go jogging."

9.13.2132

Oh, Diary, today I had the best day of school in my whole life! I can't believe what a difference being sixteen makes. Teachers are now allowed to physically discipline me, and most are quite liberal with their doses. Mrs. Witkowski, the math teacher, gave me two dozen with the ruler today in front of the whole class simply because I was the only one to get a perfect score on today's test! She did it bare bottomed, of course, and I was so embarrassed. Everyone in class -- girls and guys -- could see my naked bottom and between my legs. I had to bend over her desk and she flipped up my skirt and pulled down my panties. Then she began to smack my ass hard with that wooden ruler. Each stroke burned, especially so soon after mother's excellent caning of Saturday morning. I didn't cry, though, because I wanted all the guys in the class to think I was brave. I think it worked, too, because most were complimentary at lunch.

Best of all, though, was what I did after class. I went to Mrs. Witkowski and suggested she give me another dose before her next class to really reinforce the lesson, and she agreed! She turned me over her knee and gave me another two dozen crackers right then, and then told me to report to her after school for the strap! The rest of the day I was in a literal welter of anticipation just imagining the feel of those strokes of that lash on my sore bottom. In fact, I was so out of it Mrs. Carpal had to reprimand me in English class for not paying attention.

After school I went to Mrs. Witkowski's classroom frantic with nervous excitement. My bottom was already very sore -- could I take more? I wanted to, of course, but a part of me was afraid of the pain. It is so overwhelming, you know, how could I bear it?

Inside the room were two other students, a boy and a girl. I recognized both. The girl was Cindy Lockmyer, a senior and a perfect angel. She gets spanked all the time. With her was Jock Holmes, her sometime boyfriend. Both of them were standing in the front of the room with their pants around their ankles and their naked bums on display. Both bums bore a score of red stripes from Mrs. Witkowski's cane, which she held in her hand and pointed at them as she lectured. Neither of the children were listening, but were raptly engaged with the blissful emotions of their bodies.

Mrs. Witkowski saw me and motioned for me to come forward. To the gratitude of my bottom she put down the cane on her desk and took up the strap. "I've got to run to the ladies' room," she apologized.

To my astonishment she handed me the strap. "Give them each two dozen, and when you are finished they are to each give you a dozen. I will finished you off when I get back. And I want serious lashes here, children. If all three of you aren't weeping when I get back I shall use my cane!"

The woman vanished rapidly out into the corridor, her urgency obvious. I nervously walked up to the two students at the front of the room.

"Hurry up," growled Jock. "She'll be back soon. You heard what she said."

"Yeah, two dozen each. Hurry!" gasped Cindy, and I watched her arch her caned ass toward me, the red welts glistening and damp with sweat.

The thought of being whipped by Jock and Cindy spurring me on, I quickly lifted the strap and began to apply it vigorously to Jock's tight buns. He moaned and wiggled as I whipped faster and faster, my strokes as hard as I could make them. After the full two dozen his ass was almost bloody it was so red and swollen, and the marks from the cane seemed to have thickened and joined each other.

Cindy was next, and I was just as ruthless with her. I knew the feeling that a good whipping imparted, and I could not disappoint her. I flogged her deligently and with eagerness, my libido swelling as I watched that leather strap wrap itself around the girl's sleek bottom cheeks. She yelped and began to cry, weeping full out as I whipped her mercilessly.

When it was done I handed the leather to Jock and removed my skirt. I felt this would be easier than trying to keep it flipped up. I bent forward with my spread palms pressed flat against the blackboard, my ass thrust out behind me. Jock seemed impressed and amused.

Cindy came up behind me and guided my pale blue panties to my knees, and then she nodded at Jock. He stepped forward and gave me the most delicious twelve strokes of the strap I've ever tasted, though of course I haven't tasted that much. I was sobbing by the time Cindy started on her set of twelve, when she finished I couldn't help but leap about the room as I rubbed my bottom frantically, as though trying to press the sting deeper into my flesh.

Mrs. Witkowski came back at that moment, frowning at my antics. "To the corner with you!" she snapped. She glared at the other two. "You two obviously haven't felt enough as you aren't crying. Let's see if another dozen with the cane won't help."

My back was to the two and I couldn't see what was happening, but I could hear the cane cracking down again and again, and I knew that two students were in an ectasy of pain right then. When the teacher was finished both Jock and Cindy were crying softly, and she let them go.

Mrs. Witkowski turned to me. "All right, little girl. Come over here." She sat at her desk and I felt very small. I resented her calling me a little girl -- I was now sixteen, after all -- but I obeyed. She took me across her lap so my bare ass was sticking up in the air. Then she began to spank me, first with her hand, and then with the leather strap.

The hand wasn't too painful, but it somehow felt more humiliating, more personal, as though I wasn't good enough for a real spanking with a belt or paddle. Her hand stung, and she alternated, spanking each of my cheeks separately, which I found annoying. I longed for a good hard wallop from a paddle that would make my whole ass hurt. After every half-dozen smacks Mrs. Witkowski would squeeze my cheek in her large palm and pinch me hard, rubbing and patting my bottom. This aroused me greatly, and I wished she'd hurry up with the real pain.

The strapping brought me tons of real pain, and Mrs. Witkowski didn't stop at a dozen or even two, but gave me a full four dozen. I was oblivious by the time she stopped. It took me a minute to realize she wasn't spanking me, but caressing my butt and talking to me. I finally managed to get up.

"Thank you, ma'am," I said.

"Have you learned your lesson?" she asked.

My heart seemed to freeze -- my lips opened and spoke, and my ass couldn't believe what I was saying. "Y-you don't think I need a bit of the cane? Just a stroke or two?"

The woman smiled at me. "If I use the cane it is never for less than six."

I thought about it and then nodded, bracing myself against the blackboard again. This time it was the thin rattan cane that cut into my ass, instead of the feeble leather strap, and this time it wasn't wielded by an inexpert boy and girl but by a strong woman who knew just how to bring out the complete agony in me.

When it was over I knew I loved Mrs. Witkowski, and I told her so. She smiled and told me I was a good girl, and suggested that any time I needed more I was to make an appointment to see her after school. She hinted that if she didn't see me at least once a week she'd make a point of scheduling it herself.

9.15.2132

So much happened today! I just have to tell you all about it. This morning Daddy gave me a whipping before breakfast. He said it had been a week since my last one, and at my age I needed at least one a week. He's such a wonderful, caring father. I can't wait for next week's. His whippings are different than those of Mrs. Witkowski or Mom's canings. Daddy is more thorough, I think, and more aware of what I'm feeling. He truly cares for me. I can feel it in every stroke.

Margo was jealous that I got spanked and she didn't, and so Daddy had to take her across his knee before he went to work, and though Margo is getting a bit big for OTK spankings, Daddy didn't have much trouble and Margo didn't seem to mind. Mother said she'd take the paddle to the girl after he was gone, and so Daddy left Margo bare-bottomed and waiting in the living room. Shortly after that, as I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for school I heard the big wooden paddle smacking Margo's large ass and it went on for a very long time, even after Margo started crying. I wondered if she was regretting being so eager to get a spanking.

Personally I had a bottom sore enough to keep me content for a few days, especially with all the sitting we do at school and the bumpy bus ride, and I wasn't going to ask Mother for anything. But when I got downstairs Mother was waiting with the paddle and a stern expression on her face, and like it or not I had to go across her lap for several dozen brutal swats on my bare behind.

I was fidgety on the bus that morning, and a boy named Leonard watched me from the seat across from mine.

"Got your ass warmed, I see," he said with a lusty smirk. I knew Leonard and didn't particularly like him. I hadn't seen him much since we played together as kids. He was kinda cute but rather obnoxious. He's the kind of boy that doesn't know when to stop. When we were very little I remember seeing him tease a girl until she cried, and thought him a brute. Afterwards he cried himself he felt so bad -- he'd only been playing, but hadn't realized when the teasing became real to her. I felt rather sorry for him, then, but not now. He was acting smug because I was having trouble sitting down.

So I smirked back at him. "Sure did. Feels great, too. Too bad your father's Anti-establishment. You'll never feel the paddle on your ass!"

Leonard flushed crimson. I knew he hated the fact that his dad didn't believe in corporal discipline. Leonard couldn't even get it at school, as his father had signed a waiver foregoing his son's right to be spanked. Now suddenly he looked like he was about to cry. He shook it off and after a moment smiled shyly at me. "Look, I'm sorry. You're right. I didn't mean to sound like it was a bad thing--"

"I know. You're jealous, that's all."

Leonard nodded, looking ashamed. As though hit with inspiration he suddenly climbed out of his seat and sat next to me. I could see his whole face was filled with fear that I would push him away. I didn't say anything and he relaxed slightly. "Can I ask you a personal question?" he whispered.

"Sure, but I may not answer."

He nodded. "That's fine. I was just wondering..." He paused and took a deep breath. His voice had gone very soft, and he leaned his head close to mine. "What... what does it feel like?"

I felt a bit of heat rise to my cheeks. I smiled at him. "It's incredible," I whispered. "Like nothing you've ever known. It's like sex, but better."

"Better?" he said, and I saw from his flushed face that he had little experience with that concept, either. Suddenly he seemed fragile to me, a lost boy in a department store. I took his hand in mine and squeezed it, and then pressed the back of his own hand against the sudden bulge at his crotch. Leonard gasped and looked at me frantically, and glanced around to see if anyone was noticing.

"Meet me at the south exit after school," I said. "Let's walk home together. We can talk about it then."

Leonard's face was pale and he nodded. More people entered the bus and took up the seats around us, and so we fell silent. I winked at Leonard as we got off the bus and he looked alarmed but happy.

During the day I thought about Leonard several times, and I wondered if he knew what we were going to do. I had ideas, you see. I mean, if a boy wanted to know what a spanking felt like, well, there was only one way to show him, right?

After school I went was a late getting to the south gate because Mr. Lazo kept me and several other students after class for discipline. I only got a half dozen with the paddle over my skirt, but the paddle was heavy and Mr. Lazo strong. Linda Denis got two dozen on the bare, and then got turned over Mr. Lazo's knee for a sound hand-spanking. Linda's always been his favorite. I was jealous but more worried about meeting Leonard. When I finally escaped (the hand-spanking lasted _forever_), I ran to the south gate but Leonard wasn't there. Just as I began to think he wasn't going to come or hadn't waited he emerged from behind some trees. He'd been waiting for a while but didn't want anyone to see him.

"Are you ready to learn what a spanking's all about?" I said, and Leonard gasped.

"Do you mean it?"

"Sure. Come home with me. We'll have a couple hours until my parents get home. We can go to the stables and play there."

Leonard was obviously in a quandry of fear and lust, but his head was nodding even as his eyes looked hesitant. I laughed and put my arm around him lovingly, and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. My ass was still warm from Mr. Lazo's paddle and I was as horny as a orchestra.

As we walked, I pulled Leonard's tenative hand around my waist, and then down onto my ass. His eyes went wild with excitement. He was enjoying the sensation of my ass cheeks rising and falling as I moved. I was enjoying the touch of a male hand against the sore blisters and welts covering my butt. It was a long but wonderful walk.

At my house I threw my books on my bed and we grabbed a couple cans of Pepcoke from the fridge. We didn't waste any time but immediately went out to the stables.

I decided I'd earned a little pain, so I stripped off and climbed onto the rails and had Leonard give me a dozen strokes with the leather strap. Leonard didn't have the fainest idea what he was doing, but he did a fair job. My ass was sore enough already that all I wanted was a refresher, and I wanted Leonard to get used to see a sore and punished bottom.

When Leonard had finished whipping me, I helped him strip and get in position. He was quite nervous, so I found a stool, gritted my teeth, and sat. It was a blissfully painful experience, I must say, especially when I added his weight across my lap. I spanked him with my hand, doing a fair amount of pinching, prodding, and poking in the process. By then Leonard was ready for the whip, which I gave him in large doses.

He handled it well, though he made a bit more of a fuss than I thought was warranted. His cock was funny. At times it grew huge and bold, and then it would shrink almost to nothing. It seemed to really embarrass him. I played with it a few times, and finally, just before the longest, hardest whipping yet, I took it in my mouth. I sucked him until he was ready to burst, and then I took the whip to his ass.

Afterwards, he whipped me again, a much longer and more effective whipping this time. His strokes were lighter than my father's or any of my teachers, so I was able to spread my legs and ask him to whip me upwards, into my crotch. That fascinated him, but he complied with gusto, and I think I came a dozen times!

9.18.2132

Oh, diary, disaster has struck my life!

Last night I was rude to my father. He was spanking Margo in the living room and I wanted my share. Stupidly, I acted like a spoiled brat, demanding my share. Daddy frowned at me and said he had something I deserved far more than a spanking. Then he went to his bedroom and came out with -- horrors -- a yellow armband!

Oh, God, I've got to wear it for a week. That means a dreadful week of no spankings, no whippings, no canings! Not even a few ruler smacks to tide me over. I wept and pleaded but Daddy threatened to make me wear the armband for _two_ weeks if I wasn't more gracious, and I finally complied. I guess he's right -- I have been a bit of a brat lately. All these spankings have been going to my head. They are just so much fun I can't find the will to resist!

Oh, no spankings for a week! What shall I do?

9.20.2132

It's been two days since my last spanking, and I'm going nuts. It feels like my bottom hasn't been touched in weeks. The welts and soreness from my last few sessions are almost gone. Wearing the armband at school is humiliating. Everyone knows I've been a bad girl and I'm terribly ashamed. I shall never do _anything_ to earn the armband again, I swear!

9.21.2132

Oh, diary! Joy is my name and secrets are what I share!

Today after school, I met with Jessica and Amy. Amy's also wearing an armband -- for two weeks! -- and Jessica's father's an Anti, so the three of us are suffering from neglect. To compensate, we decided to form our very own Spanking Club!

We met at Amy's house. Now Jessica, despite her parent's political stance, has been spanked -- quite a bit, in fact. She finds boyfriends and other girls to do the honors whenever she can. If her father only knew!

Jessica wanted to be the first, so Amy and I stripped her and took turns paddling her ass. We got her bum nice and scarlet before we took our turns. We settled on 50 swats each for the warm-up, and it was heavenly. Oh, I can't describe how luxerious those heavy smacks felt across my neglected backside! My cheeks just buzzed with feeling afterward. It was wonderful. And spanking gorgeous Amy's scrumptious little bottom was delightful. Jessica, with her larger, more pronounced ass, was tremendously entertaining to paddle.

All in all we had a wonderful time, each orgasming several times, I think. We have made arrangments to meet regularly, and of coure, recruit more members. With a few more girls in the club our paddle sessions could last for hours!

9.23.2132

I discovered a new spanking partner today!

Still depressed because of my spanking ban (which lasts another two days--ugh!), I made some comment about it to Margo. She and I were the only ones home this afternoon, and boy was I horny! Apparently she was of the same mind, however, and immediately got a gleam in her eye.

Before I was really aware what was going on, she had me naked and bending over for the cane!

Remember how impressed I was with Margo's ability to take two dozen strokes with a smile? Well, she can give two dozen just as well! Ouch, those lashes hurt! They felt just glorious on my sweet flesh. I wished I could have been caned all night! (Not that I could have taken it -- I was nearly unconscious with orgasm after the first twenty!)

Then I got my first experience _applying_ the cane. I thought all the pleasure in caning was on the receiving end, but giving it has a wonderful buzz to it as well, especially if your bottom is already deliciously sore. I was naked as I caned Margo, so I really could feel every part of my exposed body as I vigorously swung that cane. I loved the way my bottom and breasts bounced as I ran up with each stroke.

Margo's a beautiful young lady. I've always been a bit jealous of her because she's more mature, but caning her naked ass was a joy. She's tall with large hips which gives an enormously wide canvas when she bends over. Her pussy isn't as shy as mine -- it peeks out between her legs when she's upright, and when she's bent over it practically thrusts out at the base of her crack. I swear a few of my strokes must have connected across the outer edges of those lips, but Margo never once got out of position, though her body convusled violently with incredible passion.

I gave Margo double what she gave me. It seemed only fair, after all, she was older and deserved it, and she'd been so nice to do me first. I left her striped from the top of her crack to the back of her knees, and she couldn't stop weeping when I finished. She was so grateful she gave me a hug and long, senuous kiss afterward. She told me I "caned like a dream" and any time in the future that we wanted to exchange a licking to just ask.

As a special treat, she gave me a bare bottomed hairbrushing before she went off on a date. It left my ass bruised and sore, which was exactly how I wanted to be. I went and took a long, hot shower, and played with myself for over an hour.

I thought about telling Margo about the Spanking Club, but decided not to. After all, she and I can have our own sessions, and then I've still got the Club if I want more. (As if there's an "if" about it!)

Oh, life is wonderful. Next week I'll be spankable again and Daddy's promised me the worst whipping ever as a reward for being so good during my yellow band week. Good thing he doesn't know how often I got spanked anyway! I can't wait to experience what he's got planned. He hinted at the bullwhip. Now _that_ sends shivers through my pussy!

The End

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