The High Cost of Internet Access

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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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The High Cost of Internet Access

(****, M/F, Severe, severe caning)

A woman's secret is discovered. (Approximately 2,445 words. Originally published 2004-01.)

Katie spread her legs and leaned back against the sofa, drawing the man closer to her. "Fuck me silly," she whispered, and grabbed the wine bottle from him. She poured a few drops across her naked chest and giggled wildly as the man's tongue chased them down her body.

It was then the doorbell rang.

The two froze in mid-couple.

"Shit! Who could that be?"

"Let the machine get it," murmured the man.

Katie pushed him away. "It's the door, not the phone y'idiot." She stood on wobbly legs and looked around. "Where's my robe?"

There was no answer, so she glanced back at the sofa and scowled. "I don't fucking believe it! He's asleep!" she hissed. Sure enough, the man snoring away in dreamland.

"I turn my back for two sweet seconds... well, he ain't getting none tonight, that's for sure."

The doorbell rang again.

"Just a minute!" she called, and went to the door nude. She peered through the peephole and her heart flipped over.

"Oh fuck!" she cried, quickly clamping a hand over her mouth. She raced to the couch. She shook the guy roughly, then slapped him. He woke up slowly.

"Get up! Get up!" she hissed frantically. "You've got to get out of here, NOW!"

"What? Is that your husband?" mumbled the man as he dimly cooperated with her as she shoved clothes in his arms and pushed him toward the window where the fire escape was located.

"I'm not married, and it's worse than my husband: it's my father."

The man resisted on the window sill. "Hey, it's cold out there. I'm naked."

"You've got your clothes, just get out of here!"

"Don't you want to introduce me to your father?"

Katie gave him a look that would melt lead. "Daddy still thinks I'm a virgin," she said bitingly. "He doesn't even know I'm a model. He thinks I'm a tour guide at the Science Museum."

"Oh, that's bad." The guy ducked as Katie started to close the window. "See you tomorrow?"

"Whatever," she said, and raced back to the living room to clean up and find her bathrobe.

The doorbell rang. "Coming!" she called. She slipped on her robe and ran to the kitchen with the wine bottle. She poured the leftover down the drain and tossed the bottle in the wastebin, covering it with a rumbled paper towel.

She glanced around the room. It looked okay. She ran to the door and opened, feigning a yawn. Her sleepy eyes shot open in surprise. "Daddy! What brings you to New York?"

"Don't give me that... that _bullshit_," growled the man. He stomped into the room. "You know damn well why I'm here."

Katie closed the door behind her father. What in the world was he so upset about? Had she been rude to Mama or something? She hadn't seen him so angry since the time she'd "accidentally" lost her top at the public pool.

She decided to play it cool.

"Are you thirsty? I've got some lemonade in the--" It was then she saw something that chilled her blood. Her father had moved into the middle of the living room and was looking around grimly, as if the place were a brothel. But when he turned she saw in his right hand a long slender birch rod. Unmistakable.

She gulped. "Uh, D-daddy? Will you please tell me why you're here?"

Her father looked up and almost smiled. "I see you remember your childhood discipline."

Katie suddenly became aware that her hands had subconsciously gone back to massage her bottom. She blushed and forcefully brought them in front of her. "Daddy, you surely didn't come all the way to New York to give me a licking," she said playfully.

"I most certainly did!" he roared, and Katie went pale and backed away.

"But what'd I _do_?" she whined in a little girl voice. She could almost still feel the sting of the switch from her last whipping, when she was eighteen, two years and a lifetime ago.

Suddenly her father paused. He took a deep breath, then sat on the sofa. Katie watched him warily. Unbidden, the naughty thought came to her head: he's probably sitting on my pussy juices.

"Sit down," said her father sternly, pointing the switch at a chair. "Let me tell you a little story."

Helplessly obedient to parental authority, Katie sat.

Her father leaned forward and placed the switch on the coffee table where Katie couldn't take her eyes off it. It was a stout rod, thin and whippy, but very strong. Her father had certainly come prepared. Katie's eyes watered imagining how badly it would hurt.

"Katie," her father began, "your mother and I strove to instill in you proper values for God and country. You're supposed to be a chaste girl, obedient and proper. Your mother and I didn't like it when you wanted to move to New York, but we didn't stand in your way, did we? We helped you every way we could."

Sure, thought Katie bitterly. After three lickings and hairbrushing from Mama wouldn't change my mind.

"A couple months ago I was in town talking to Jeb McIntosh. You remember, Jeb, right? He runs the feed store. Anyway, he's got his whole business computerized now. He was showing it to me and you know and I don't like those newfangled things but it sure seemed to make some of that tedious work less tedious, so I finally consented to have his nephew come out and see what I could use on the farm.

"Now Jeb's nephew's a bright college boy -- his name's Eugene, by the way, and he'd make you a mighty nice husband, if you're interested. Anyway, he started telling me about this Internet thing. Now at first I wasn't at all interested, but then he talked about email, and how with email I could send you messages for free, and you could send messages back for free, and I thought it would be a great way to communicate, the phone being so expensive and all.

"So Eugene got me all set up with a computer and taught us how to use it. He showed me something called the World Wild Web, or whatever, and how you can buy stuff, read free newspapers and stuff, and even find people."

Oh shit, thought Katie, slowly waking up. She sat up straighter in her chair. Her bottom was getting a familiar prickly feeling and her stomach hurt.

"So last night your Mama and I typed your name into the computer. And a whole list of places popped up. It seems you're very well known on the Internet, did you know that? Anyway, I clicked on the first of these and oh my Lord I had to cover your mother's eyes!"

Katie couldn't look at her father but stared at the carpet. She could feel the rage in his voice though he remained outwardly calm.

"You know what we saw, don't you. Naked pictures. Of you, our one and only child. Our sweet little innocent girl, naked as the day God made her, standing with hand up her snatch!"

A shadow loomed and Katie knew her father was standing. She saw a big hand grab the switch off the table and her heart pounded furiously. She opened her mouth ready to defend herself but when she looked up and saw her father's face her mouth went dry.

"Get undressed, daughter," he said softly. "Get undressed and lie over the end of the sofa for your whippin'."

Katie couldn't argue. Her mind was whirling with excuses: "It was just a one-time thing, when I was young and didn't know any better." "I'm twenty years old! You can't whip me!" "I'm rich, Daddy. I don't rent this apartment, I _own_ it!" But she knew they were just excuses and wouldn't faze her father.

She removed the robe and the body that thousands of Internet customers paid weekly to see was exposed. Her father didn't bat an eye. Katie draped herself over the end of the couch, making sure her ass was nice and high the way her father liked it. Oh God, she thought miserably, this is going to _hurt_!

She was not wrong. Her father was an expert at administering an old fashioned switching and poor Katie was his unfortunate pupil. She moaned and writhed and occasionally screamed, but remained in position for the horrible beating. Crimson stripe after crimson stripe blossomed across her full round cheeks. Two dozen, then three. Her father showed no signs of slowing down.

"How many more?" she begged, but her answer was another sweeping lash from the rod.

On and on it went. She lost count somewhere after four dozen. Her ass was a mess. There was scarcely no feeling in it any more. For the last several minutes her father had concentrated on her thighs and Katie just couldn't stop crying.

Finally, it was over. She slowly got to her feet and her father gave her a hug.

"That's the last time, Baby," he whispered.

Through her tears she stared at him.

"I can't stop you from doing what you want to do. You're old enough to make your own decisions about what to do with your life."

Fresh tears brimmed in her eyes. "Thank you, Daddy," she mumbled, hugging him tightly. "I love you so much. That hurt like hell but it was just what I needed."

Her father left and Katie stood before the big mirror and stared over her shoulder at her bruised and battered ass.

The phone rang. Katie picked it up. It was Miller. "Through the roof!" he shouted. "Through the roof!"

"J.D.? What are you talking about?"

"The _ratings_, Katie-baby! Through the roof. Unbelievable. We got nearly six thousand new subscriptions tonight! That's fucking incredible!"

Katie's brain whirled. She felt sick and dizzy. "You... don't tell me, Miller, we were live just now?"

"Of course, baby, of course. I got home about midnight and saw you and loverboy and it was hot so I put you on as a free show, a little teaser. Then that old man showed up. Wow, that was fucking brilliant! What a gimmick. Who'd you get to play that part? He was very believable. And how'd you fake those marks? It sure looked real, baby!"

Suddenly Katie's blood boiled. "I sure hope you liked it 'cuz it's the last one, you fucker! I'm quitting."

There was a burst of noise at the other end of the line but Katie didn't hear it: she hung up the phone and unplugged the cord.

A half hour later she was soaking in the tub when Miller appeared in the doorway. "What the--" she started. "How'd you get--"

"The front door was unlocked," he said. He came and sat on the edge of the tub. "Now what's this about you quitting? Baby, come on: tonight was a goldmine. We're gonna be rich!"

Katie grimaced. "Yeah? Well so what? My father's right: some things aren't worth the price you pay."

Miller frowned. "Your father? Don't tell me that old man was your real father!"

"Real? It was all real, Miller! I didn't know the fucking cameras were on!"

The man stared at the girl in disbelief. Katie sighed, then rolled over and stuck her bare ass up at him. Her glorious buttocks, the most famous on the 'net, were gory with welts. The skin was deep crimson, the swollen weals purple and black.

"Oh my God!" gasped Miller.

Katie eased herself back into the soothing water. "Now do you understand?"

"Understand?" cried Miller. "Understand? I understand we're gonna be fucking _millionaires_!"

"What are you talking about? I told you, I quit."

"Oh no, baby, I'm talking something new. Your father would love this. We'll go for the CP crowd, ultra-realistic spankings and whippings. We can charge premo dollar--"

"WHAT?"

"Come on, it's a million dollars in the bank. With your fame we'll have them pouring in!"

"Why I aught to whip your bare ass! You don't know how badly that hurts, you fucker."

Miller laughed. "Is that why you were comin' all over the couch? Three times, wasn't it?"

Katie's mouth dropped open. "No way!"

"Go look at the stains on your sofa if you don't believe me. I'd recognize your 'orgasm face' any time. I counted at least three, but I could have missed a couple."

Katie was back over the sofa arm, her legs spread, crotch rubbing against the rough fabric. There was a whistle as the rod flashed through the air and a mighty fierce sting flooded across her ass. She pumped herself against the sofa, achieving a slight buzz of pleasure. Again the strike of agony, again the rub of love.

She blinked at Miller. "Oh my God," she moaned. "You're right! I was on a such a high I didn't even realize or remember. I just remembered the pain, that's all I could think about, how badly it was going to hurt. But it wasn't that bad, not really, not as bad as I thought it would be."

"Your dad whip you like that growing up?"

"All the time."

"Well, there it is. You feared it the way a child fears punishment, but the truth is, as an adult you really enjoyed it."

Indeed, imagining herself over the sofa arm again with a switch rising behind her thrilled her heart and made her pussy wet. She got out of the tub and began to dry herself.

"My real father can't do it," she said. "He mustn't know."

"Fine. We'll find some actors. We could have a whole series: uncles, aunts, grandparents. Each can take a turn giving you a whipping."

"Not more than one, uh, two a month. At least that severe."

"No problem: less is more."

"And I want double my cut."

Miller hesitated, then nodded. "Done."

He held out his hand. Katie shook it, a dreadful feeling of weakness flooding her.

What have I gotten myself into, she thought. I can't seriously be signing up for regular whippings! But her heart ached with desire at the thought. What would it be like to _know_ a month in advance you have a licking scheduled on a particular date? Her sex swelled and she knew without consciously detailing her fantasies, that she'd be in for a lot more than just a monthly switching. This was just the beginning.

And I have my father to thank for it, she thought with an ironic smile. Thank God he got an Internet connection.

The End

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