The First Week is Free

Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1985-2020 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.

The First Week is Free...

(****, M/FFF, Severe, caning, whipping, etc.)

Josie and the Pussycats are given an offer they can’t refuse. (Approximately 5,511 words. Originally published 2004-01.)

[Author's Note: This is a "Josie and the Pussycats" story. See the movie to visualize the characters.]

The First Week is Free...

"Are you _sure_ you posted all the flyers?" asked Val worriedly.

"I put one on every car in the mall parking lot," answered Mel.

"Well, it doesn't look like anyone else is coming," muttered Josie as she glared at the near-empty bowling alley. She shrugged her shoulders. "Come on, let's rock!"

The girls began to play and a few heads turned, mostly in idle curiousity. Nothing much happened in Riverdale.

After the "concert," the girls chatted as they hauled their equipment across the street. Val was depressed and frustrated, wondering if they had any chance of making it as a band.

"Come on, don't give up," said Josie. "We'll have that record contract and become superstars, I just know it!"

At that moment there was a screech of brakes and the girls looked up to see a black Mercedes grind to a halt just in front of them. "What the hell are you--" a man started to say as he stuck his head out the window. He stopped, his frown turning into a grin. "Are you a band?"

The girls nodded. "We're the Pussycats!" said Mel.

The man beamed. "I'm Wyatt. I'm with Mega Records. How would you like to be superstars?"

* * * * *

The four were sitting at Riverdale's poshest restaurant, the Big Boy on the corner of Fourth and Main. Wyatt was grinning at the girls.

"You three are just darling. I've been looking for a new girl group, and you fit the bill exactly!"

"You really want to sign us?" asked Josie. "But you haven't even heard our music!"

"A minor detail," shrugged Wyatt with a wave of his hand. "It doesn't matter any way. Music isn't about music any more, it's about image. If you want to be superstars, I can make you superstars."

"I don't know," said Val, "we're serious musicians."

For a moment, Wyatt looked concerned, then the three girls burst out laughing.

Josie grinned at him. "We're pop and we know it," she laughed. "We just wanna have fun."

Wyatt looked relieved. "So you'll sign?"

Mel, who'd been flipping through the 200-page contract Wyatt had produced, suddenly put in a question. "What's all this I keep seeing about D.C.?"

Wyatt snatched the contract from the girl roughly, licking his lips nervously. "Oh, that... well, that's just standard contract stuff. D.C. is Daily Cost, as in 'daily cost of superstardom.'" You don't think becoming a superstar is free, do you? You have to pay!"

The girls looked at each other in shock. "Pay? What do you mean?"

"He means a percentage," said Val.

"No, I don't," said Wyatt. "We make money off you, sure, but that's not the Daily Cost. At Mega Records we've come up a unique kind of D.C.... it shows us your committment to the band and to superstardom."

"What is it?" asked Josie.

Wyatt looked around. Except for a table with three elderly ladies on the other side of the room, the Big Boy was deserted. He leaned forward and his voice dropped to a whisper. "When was the last time you three were spanked?"

The girls stared at Wyatt in confusion. Val frowned. "Huh?"

Mel smiled happily. "I was spanked last Saturday!"

Josie and Val gasped. "What!" they exclaimed simultaneously.

"Sure," Mel grinned. "Remember, I got home late from our Riverdale Rest Home Concert? My Dad waited up for me and when I came in he gave my butt a swat with his hand and told me I was naughty!"

Val laughed. "Well, if _that_ qualifies as a spanking, I had a boyfriend a year ago -- remember Carl? -- who used to..."

Josie blushed and clamped a hand over her friend's mouth. "I think we've heard enough about spankings." She turned to Wyatt. "Why are you asking us that? Are you some spanko pervert?"

Wyatt nodded. "Yup. I love seeing girls get their tushes wupped. That's the DC I was talking about. You sign with Mega Records and you'll be superstars, guaranteed, but your asses are mine. Literally."

"You can't be serious!"

"Hey, that's the cost of being a superstar. You don't think Britney got where she is on her talent, do you?"

There was a moment of stunned silence, then Josie stood up. "Forget it," she said. "We're not interested."

"We're not?" asked Val.

Mel also looked suprised. "I thought you wanted a record contract?"

"I do, but not at this price. Besides, I don't buy that we could become superstars. This guy hasn't even heard us play!"

Wyatt's smile became evily wide. "The first week is free," he said softly. "Come to New York with me tonight. I'll have you on TRL by Friday."

* * * * *

Tuesday night the girls arrived in New York city. Wednesday morning they met master producer "Babybutt" who engineered a special "Pussycat" sound for them and they cut their first single. By Thursday, it was the hottest selling CD in the city, in constant radio play, and a camera crew was following the girls around gathering footage for a video. They shot the studio scenes that evening, before going to a huge rock star party, and Friday morning the video was playing on MTV.

"I can't believe this... it's happening so fast!" raved Josie. "Is this really normal?"

"That guy Wyatt wasn't kidding," sighed Val. "We're going on TRL and going to meet Carson Daily!"

"Oooh, I love Carson!" breathed Mel happily.

"Yeah, but..."

"But what?" Val stared at her friend. "Are you worried about that spanking thing?"

Josie blushed and nodded. "A little. A mean, aren't you?"

"Hey, baby, the guy's wacked, but if he gets me on TRL, he can _have_ my ass."

"Come on, Josie, haven't you been spanked before?" asked Mel.

Josie's pink cheeks went red. "Actually, no." She sighed. "Mom always used to threaten to have my Dad 'paddle my bottom' but just the threat was enough to keep me in line. My whole life I was terrified of Daddy spanking me, and somehow I escaped without it happening."

"Aw, it's no big deal," said Mel. "Dad used to paddle me all the time."

"Yeah, a little swat on the butt for being late," giggled Val.

"No, real paddlings," insisted Mel. "They hurt, but Daddy was always there afterward to give me a hug and tell me he loved me. Daddy stopped after I graduated from high school... to tell you the truth, I kinda miss them."

Josie stared at her friend in disbelief. "You can't be serious! You _miss_ getting spanked?!"

Mel nodded. "Yeah, it was a special time between my Dad and I, you know? I knew I deserved to be punished for whatever I'd done, so it wasn't like he was just randomly beating me or something. He was always so loving about it. I'd describe it as 'gentle' except that the paddling itself was pretty hard."

"Didn't it hurt?"

"Hell yeah! I cried, too. But it felt good in a way, like a shower. Like I was being cleaned on the inside. I knew once I'd been spanked I was forgiven. Daddy would never mention my naughtiness again."

"Sounds lovely," grunted Val, "but somehow I doubt that's the kind of spanking Wyatt has in mind."


"I figure a perv like that's got sex on the brain."

"You mean he'll--"

"No, I doubt think he'd go that far. That couldn't be in the contract. That's illegal. But he'll get his rocks off, that's for sure."

Josie licked her lips nervously. "Would... you think... would we... I mean, would he make us... er... would we be, uh... naked?"

Val laughed. "I'd imagine so, Jos! I know Carl always liked my tush bare...."

"Oh God," muttered Josie, blushing furiously.

"What are you embarrassed about? You've got a great body!"

"I do?" asked Josie. "I'm not too... small?"

"You're fine, beautiful," said Val firmly. "Isn't she beautiful, Mel?"

Mel looked up, surprised. "Uh, yeah. Of course she is. Stunning."

Val stared at her. "What is going through that tiny brain of yours?"

Mel blushed. "I was just thinking about Wyatt spanking me... taking down my pants and panties...."

"Oh my girl, you are _hot_!" laughed Val. "Look at the steam coming out of your pussycat ears!" She jossled Josie, who was laughing as well.

"Come on," blushed Mel, "he's cute. And he's got that adorable British accent!"

Val shook her head and sighed. "Hey, it's nearly three o'clock. We've got to get ready to go on to TRL!"

* * * * *

Tuesday dawned bright and clear. The penthouse the girls lived in was huge and spectacular, with an incredible view of the city. Already the girls were becoming used to stardom. They'd partied long and hard the past few days, sold a few million CDs, and were the talk of the town.

Wyatt was there at nine a.m. with their schedule for the day. He casually dropped the latest Billboard on the table, the girls going into squeals of delight when they saw their single was number one in the country.

"You're on Regis at ten, a reporter from Seventeen will be here at noon, and a photographer from Rolling Stone will be here at two," he explained. "There's talk about you girls being on the cover."

Josie and Val high-fived each other. None of the three girls could stop grinning like fools.

"And there's this," added Wyatt. "I took the liberty of opening bank accounts for each of you." He slid the bank statements across the table. The girls gasped at the huge numbers.

"There's... there's two commas in mine!" said Mel. "Two commas!"

"Mine two," said Val, and Josie nodded.

"There's only one problem," said Wyatt.

The girls looked up, a flash of fear crossing their faces.

He plunked down a heavy stack of paper. "You haven't signed the contract yet. "As of tonight, all this is gone unless you sign."

"Gone?" said Josie softly. "How could it be gone?"

Wyatt's smile was supremely confident. "Technically you haven't made a dime. After all, you haven't signed a contract so we don't have to pay you anything.

"Second, all I have to do is release this CD to the media and your careers are over." He held up a shiny disc.

The girls looked puzzled. Wyatt crossed to the stereo system and inserted the disc. Immediately horrible sounds began to emerge from the massive speakers. It was the Pussycats, all right, but hideously out of tune, and the song was a bizarre mesh of rap, pop, and country. Even the lyrics sucked.

"You'll be a one hit wonder by tomorrow night," Wyatt said grimly. "One listen to this and fans will be melting your CDs."

"Oh my God," said Josie, sinking onto the sofa with her hands over her face.

Val patted her on the back. "Come on, Josie, it's okay."

"I just can't believe it's so easy to go up and down like that," Josie said. "Is the public so naive?"

Wyatt laughed. "It's all money. Mega Records has the ability to promote you or demote you. It's up to you. Sign or be forgotten."

Josie stared at him. "And if we sign, we'll have to let you, er, you know, uh, spank us?"

"Every day."

Val stepped forward. "Just how hard are these spankings to be?"

"Oh, very hard. Severe, in fact. You'll be marked and sore, and you'll cry."

"Every day?" asked Val. "How can we do that? Our butts will be mush!"

Wyatt grinned. "Don't worry -- I've got some medicine that will keep your bottoms baby smooth and healthy. You simply rub this special gel across your buttocks and by morning all trace of the paddling is gone. There's no permanent damage."

"How, exactly, do we go about this... spanking?" asked Josie.

Wyatt shrugged. "It's every night before you go to bed. You get to choose the implement I use. There are seven, one for each day of the week. You must choose a different implement each night until all seven have been used. Each implement has a preset number of spanks, so you'll always know in advance how severe each spanking will be. I spank each of you, one by one, and then you go to bed. That's it."

"No sex?" asked Mel.

Wyatt frowned. "Of course not. Well, unless you're willing and wanting... I'm certainly not opposed to it. But it's not a requirement, and sex won't mitigate your spanking."

"What's mitigate?" Mel hissed to Val.

"Lessen," she whispered back. "He means that if you have sex with him, you'll still get spanked just as hard."


Wyatt clapped his hands together. "So, we have a deal? You're ready to sign?"

Josie held up her hand. "One more question: what if we want out of the contract?"

Wyatt shrugged. "You can stop any time you like. Just refuse a spanking. That terminates the contract immediately. You'll be back to Riverdale and waiting tables and living in a mobile home and playing twenty dollar concerts in pool halls."

The girls looked at each other. They looked at the beautiful penthouse, the view of New York City.

"I say, what the hell!" said Val.

"We could at least try it for a week," added Mel.

The two looked at Josie hopefully.

"Where do we sign?" asked Josie with a deep sigh.

* * * * *

"So," asked Wyatt slowly, "who is going to be first?"

It was Wednesday evening and the time the three had been dreading had arrived.

Wyatt had explained that their penthouse was soundproof, so they didn't need to worry about sounds bothering neighbors. He'd also explained the particulars of the upcoming spanking.

There were seven types of spankings, each with a different implement. Each girl would pick a different implement for each spanking, until all seven had been used, and they'd start the process over again the next week.

Wyatt showed them a little card he'd made. It had each of their names written vertically at the top, while a column down the left held each of the seven spanking types. Wyatt would put a dot next to each spanking type as it was used, thus keeping track of which spankings were left for each girl. The card looked something like this:


Hand (30m) _ _ _

Hairbrush (15m) _ _ _

Small Paddle (100) _ _ _

Big Paddle (40) _ _ _

Razor Strop (60) _ _ _

Cat (50) _ _ _

Cane (24) _ _ _

Next to each item's name was a number which represented the severity of the spanking. It usually was the number of strokes of the implement, but for the first two items, it was the length of time the spanking would take.

Even Val was a little taken back by the severity of the spankings. "A hundred whacks with the small paddle?" she asked. "Sixty with the razor strop?"

"The amounts are non-negotiable," said Wyatt. "Take it or leave it. Remember, I told you these were going to be serious spankings. But the pain will be short-lived. You'll be sore tonight, but by morning the gel will have taken away all trace of the punishment."

The various implements of discipline were laid on a coffee table and the girls got to pick them up and feel them.

"I feel like I've been sent to the principal's office," giggled Mel.

"Except no principal in Riverdale still _spanks_," said Josie. "It's barbaric."

Val shook her head doubtfully. "I don't know. I kinda think getting their butt whacked might be better for a lot of kids. Remember Harley Jenkins? Wouldn't he deserve a good paddling?"

Josie and Mel laughed. "Hell yeah!"

"Ladies, this is all very amusing," interrupted Wyatt, "but I must ask my question again: who is going to be first?"

There was a moment of silence, then Josie sighed. "Hell, you're calling us 'Josie and the Pussycats,' so I guess I'm supposed to be the leader. I'll go first."

"You don't have to, Jos. I can go," said Val, but Josie shook her head.

"No, I want to get it over with." She stared at the table. "Let's try the big paddle. It's only forty whacks."

Wyatt grinned. "No problem. Just step over head, drop your drawers, and bend over the back of this sofa."

"Can't I, uh, keep my, er, underwear on?" begged Josie.

"No way -- I want to see your cheeks color as I paddle them."

"You're a sick bastard."

"Of course. Now get in position."

Reluctantly, Josie went over the couch. She undid her pajama bottoms and slid them and her panties to her ankles. The round ball of her petite ass was exposed to everyone, and she shuddered at Wyatt's big lusty grin.

"Stop staring and get this over with," she muttered, bending over.

"You have a lovely tush," said Wyatt admiringly. "Small, but nice and round and firm. This big paddle" -- he hefted the large frat pledge board -- "is just going to devastate those buns."

Josie shuddered again, closing her eyes and making sure her legs were tightly together. No sense giving Wyatt more of a show than he was paying for.

"Now the rule is, 'No getting out of position' during a spanking. If you rise up, you'll get extra swats. And don't make a lot of noise and fuss -- I hate that. Take your smacks like big girls."

Josie grunted. Suddenly there was a deafening like a car backfiring and her ass just exploded. She gasped. Her ass was on fire. An intense sting was swarming all over the cheeks. She almost rose inadvertantly, but remembered at the last moment and bent back over.

BLAM! WHACK! POW! The big paddle laid waste to Josie's little ass. Tears flooded her eyes and she moaned loudly. By the tenth swat she was crying, and by fifteen sobbing uncontrollably. Her buttocks throbbed horribly and still the paddle kept walloping her. Every stroke knocked her forward, into the sofa, and she clung to the seat cushions by her face and just sobbed her heart out. She lost count around the twenty mark.

At first Josie had been more embarrassed than afraid. She knew it would hurt, but she hadn't realized the degree: it was far, far more painful than she'd expected. And forty swats, which had seemed minimal compared to the other punishments, now sounded like a nightmare.

Several times during the horrible spanking she thought of giving up, telling Wyatt to fuck himself, and walking out the door. But several things fought against that impulse. One, she really did want to be a rock star. If this was the price, maybe she could pay it. Second, she'd already endured half of the spanking -- it seemed silly to back out now. Do it tomorrow night, before the next spanking, if she was so inclined. But not now. Finally, there was the matter of her pride: she didn't want to appear weak in front of her sisters, Val and Mel. She had to be tough, couldn't be a baby. So, somehow, she found the strength and gutted it out.

Finally, after an age, it was over. The explosions of the paddle still echoed throughout the penthouse as Josie slowly stood. Her knees were weak, but she didn't want to sit down. Her hands went to her burning ass and she discovered an amazing amount of heat back there. The skin was raw and sensitive, but seemed intact. Her buttocks were covered with pebble-like bumps, however. She worried they were blisters, or the start of blisters, but thankfully none of them appeared to have popped. Her face was damp from crying, but she had no tears left. She stared at the others mournfully, holding on to her sore buttcheeks. Belatedly she realized she was standing naked from the waist down showing Wyatt eveything, but she didn't care. It would take too much energy to cover herself, and besides, the thought of pulling tight panties over her butt didn't hold any appeal right now.

"Next," said Wyatt with a grin.

"At least you're enjoying yourself," muttered Val, stepping forward. "You wield a mean paddle. I think I'll try that cat."

"Excellent choice," said Wyatt, picking it up. It had an eight-inch wooden handle, and the nine tails of leather were each two feet long. Each leather strip was a quarter-inch wide by an eigth thick. It looked vicious. "Let's have you over the end of the sofa, stretched out and almost lying down."

Val calmly removed her pajama bottoms and panties. "Guess I won't be needing these for a while," she quipped, and obediently got into position. Her big ass was the highest point of her body, but her long legs stretched out behind her, giving Wyatt lots of target. "Whip away."

The whipping was thorough. Wyatt started across Val's ass and slowly made his way down her thighs. Then he went back up, traversing familiar territory, and finishing with the final dozen across her buttocks. Every stroke drew a tight gasp from the girl, and left a series of thin weals across Val's flesh. At first the weals didn't look red against her chocolate skin, but gradually, as the whipping progressed, the marks became more and more crimson.

Val kept her composure, weeping quietly throughout, but she was obviously relieved when it was over. She stood slowly, hands grabbing her asscheeks. "God that hurt," she moaned. "Josie's right, Wyatt: you're a bastard."

"Mel's turn," said Wyatt, ignoring the black girl's comment.

Mel, looking a few shades paler than before the evening started, studying the table thoughtfully. "Well, I definitely don't want that paddle, and that whipping was awful... I guess I'll try the hand spanking. That doesn't sound so bad."

Wyatt smiled. "Good. I get to sit down. Bring those lovely buns over here." He sat on the sofa and patted his lap.

Reluctantly, Mel obeyed. She pulled down her pajama bottoms and went across his lap. "You can take down my panties," she said.

"Gladly." Wyatt did his duty with a big smile. The smile got even bigger as Mel's creamy white cheeks were uncovered. Her butt was gorgeous, plump like Val's, and wonderfully shapely.

Wyatt's hand grasped her right cheek and squeezed, making Mel tense. "Hey, no groping!" she scolded.

"We've got a half an hour of my hand on your ass," said Wyatt. "I can either be smacking your buns or fondling them. Which would you prefer?"

Mel fell silent.

"Here's what smacks feel like." Wyatt lifted his palm and brought it down hard on Mel's right cheek. She gasped at the sharp sting. He gave her four more, then rapidly added five to the left cheek.

"Ooooh," moaned the girl. She wiggled her bottom a little. "That stings."

"Good. Now sit still and take your little girl spanking like a big girl."

What followed was every bit as thorough and painful as what the other two girls had endured. Each spank hurt much less than a stroke of the paddle or cat, but there were hundreds of spanks. After the first minute or two, Wyatt settled down at an Olympic pace of sixty spanks a minute, alternating cheeks with each slap. After five minutes Mel was sobbing, and after ten she was howling and writhing and begging for mercy. Wyatt gave no quarter, however, but continued at the same relentless pace.

At the halfway point of fifteen minutes, Mel was gasping for oxygen. Wyatt paused, rubbing her cheeks and squeezing and fondling her ass. Mel didn't complain at all: she just lay there and panted happily, grateful for the respite.

After a short break, however, Waytt was at it again, smacking heartily. This time he was slower, varying his rythmn as he paused frequently to squeeze the plump flesh or to admire the color he was achieving. Mel's cheeks were bright red and steaming, and that seemed to please Wyatt a great deal.

With two minutes to go he slowed down to a crawl, spending more time admiring than spanking, but he was only gathering his strength: for the final minute he managed ninety spanks! Mel was screaming and bouncing across his lap throughout the furious assault, and when he finally released her, she scrambled to her feet, tears dripping down her face, rubbing her asscheeks and doing an impromptu "my ass is on fire" dance.

"Well done, girls," sighed Wyatt pleasantly. He beamed at them. "You've all been excellent, most obedient and cooperative. And most attractive and lovely."

He passed around clear tubes of a green ointment. "Here's that special gel I promised you. Put it on your sores and your buns will be as good as new in the morning. This stuff's magical. God awful expensive, too, but you're worth it."

The second he was gone, Mel tore off her top, and naked, ran to the wall mirror in the piano room. She stood and stared over her shoulder at her crimson ass. After a few seconds, Josie and Val joined her, and all three stood staring over their shoulders.

"Shit," muttered Val.

"We've got to go through this every _day_?" Josie asked rhetorically.

"Hey, we survived," said Val. "It wasn't as bad as you thought, was it?"

"Worse. And... better. At least a little." Josie opened the bottle of green gel and squirted a bunch into her hand. "It hurt more than I expected, much more. I wouldn't have thought a wooden board could put out that much pain. But I'm not as afraid as I was before: at least I know what to expect."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," said Val. "You know, I think Wyatt's got those amounts figured out to a science. Look at how different each of our spankings were, and yet our butts all look about the same."

Mel nodded. "Mine was longer, but the individual spanks didn't hurt as much as what you and Josie took."

"Here, let me do that," said Val, noticing the trouble Josie was having trying to put ointment on her own ass. She took a gob of the green stuff and began to smooth it on her friend's buttocks. "You can do me after I've done you."

"Hey, what about me?" pouted Mel.

"We'll both do you," giggled Josie.

"Then I'll help Val," said Mel, stepping forward and offering a hand.

Soon all three girls had well-oiled tushes. They all went to bed and slept on their bellies, without pajama bottoms....

* * * * *

The next morning, the girls were again in front of the mirror, admiring their bottoms. They could scarcely believe it, but Wyatt was right: there was no trace of their beatings from the night before. Their skin was smooth and creamy, silky to the touch.

"Well I'll be!" exclaimed Val. "Look at that. Wyatt was right."

"He was also right about something else," said Mel, walking in with a stack of mail. She threw most of it on a table but held up a copy of _Entertainment Weekly_. The picture on the front was of none other than themselves.

Josie and Val squealed in excitment and everyone sat down as Val read the glowing review outloud.

"... a breath of fresh air on the pop music scene," concluded the article. "These sexy girls are not only talented musicians, but they look fantastic in their first music video: I can't wait for the next one."

"Wow," laughed Josie. "He likes us!"

"He thinks we're hot!" giggled Mel.

In the light of day, with healed bottoms, the memory of the previous night's pain was faint and shadowy, as vague as a dream. With the excitments of the day -- interviews, photography sessions, album signings, and meetings with their producer about their next few songs -- they quickly forgot about the spankings.

It wasn't until eleven o'clock, as the girls rode home in a limo, exhausted from the hetic schedule, that they remembered and became somber. Wyatt was waiting for them, of course.

"So, who's first tonight?"

Josie stepped forward. "Why ruin a trend? I'll try that razor strap thing tonight."

"Strop," said Wyatt. "It's razor strop. No problem. I'll have you over the back of the sofa."

The girls were still dressed, but Josie didn't bother with pajamas -- she just stripped bare and bent over the couch.

"You realize you've gotten us all to sleep nude," she said to Wyatt. "There's no way we'll ever wear night clothes again."

Wyatt nodded. "That's fine with me. I don't mind naked pussycats."

"Nudity used to embarrass me, but compared to the pain of a spanking, it's nothing."

"Well, I hope you enjoy your first stropping, because it will be something to remember."

Indeed it was. Every stroke was like liquid fire poured over Josie's proffered flesh. The strop seemed to lick the skin right off her bottom. She screamed and writhed and her tears soaked the sofa cushions. But she somehow survived.

Val went next, making the mistake of choosing the hairbrush. The bruising paddling lasted every second of the fifteen minutes, leaving her full bottom sore and blistered. Wyatt was panting afterward and had to pause to catch his breath before he could do Mel.

Mel decided to try the cane. It was a wise move, for it made her subsequent punishments feel far more lenient. The cane was brutal. Each stroke left a thick juicy scarlet weal swelling across her buttocks and thighs. Just walking around afterward made Mel cry fresh tears.

The second Wyatt was gone the three naked girls darted for the mirror room, joining together in putting the soothing green gel on each other's blistered flesh.

"I don't know about the two of you," sighed Josie as her bottom was creamed, "but this felt so good last night I was actually looking forward to this momement all day long!"

"Yeah, it almost makes the punishment worth it, just to feel the relief when it stops," moaned Mel.

"I don't know if I'd go _that_ far," said Val, "but oh God, this feels _so good_!"

The girls spent longer putting on the gel the second night than they did the first, and they enjoyed the process thoroughly. Mel was the one who started the secret confession.

"Did any of you, uh, find yourself, uh, excited last night?"

"What do you mean?" asked Val.

Mel blushed. "I mean, in bed last night. During the night. Did you have erotic dreams? I sure did -- I couldn't keep them out. I couldn't stop touching...."

"Oh, you too!" gasped Val. "I thought it was just me. I figured I must be some extra-horny girl. In fact, I told myself I'd deserved that whipping because I was such a naughty brat for being so aroused."

"What about you, Jos?"

The two turned to their friend, who blushed scarlet. "Uh, er, ummm," she mumbled, and then sighed. "Yeah, me too."

"It must be something about the pain," said Mel. "Like to escape the pain our bodies generate sex."

"You're nuts," said Josie, but she didn't sound at all convinced.

"Are any of you turned on now?" asked Val with a grin. The other three nodded.

"I started getting turned on the second my strapping -- sorry, _stropping_ -- was over," said Josie with a naughty grin. "Watching you two get yours, even though I knew it was horribly painful and I hated it and felt sorry for you, I also liked it. You guys looked so cute!"

"Really?" asked Mel. "I felt like a mess -- all disheveled and my makeup running from my tears."

"Don't worry, you looked hot and sexy," said Val. "Wyatt could hardly contain himself."

"Really!" Mel's eyes glowed: it was known to the others she had a tiny crush on their new manager.

"Well, as nice as it is to talk to you all about sex, I'm exhausted," sighed Josie. "I'm going to bed."

"Yeah, but I bet you won't sleep for a while!"

Josie grinned. "So what -- that's my business. I'm a big rock star. I can do whatever I want.""

Everyone laughed, and the girls went off to their beds, each anxious for some private nighttime comfort.

As she lay on her belly, her hands occupied, Josie realized something with surprise: despite the pain of the thrashings, there hadn't been a single mention, or even, at least for her, a single _thought_ of not going through with the discipline that night. It was already an accepted thing: fame for pain. It wasn't such a poor exchange. She no longer minded. It made her life more interesting, and she certainly enjoyed the privileges of the rock star lifestyle. And wow, the aftereffects were certainly powerful: she'd never felt so aroused as she did the last two nights.

She churned away for a while, her thoughts drifting as she dozed, lost in erotic pleasure.

Yeah, fame for pain, she thought blissfully. It was a fair trade.

The End