Overboard

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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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Overboard

(***, f/f, Intense, spanking, switching)

Two girls attempt to outwit their parents and outwit themselves instead. (Approximately 2,598 words. Originally published 1998-01.)

Amy and Sasha had been best friends for as long as they could remember. They'd grown up in the same town, went to the same schools, and slept over at each other's houses. They also got in trouble together, and since the parents of both girls believed firmly that naughty children ought to be spanked, they'd had their bare bottoms paddled at the home of one or other, many, many times.

Thus is shouldn't be a surprise that on the 23rd of September, neither girl was anxious to go home after school. The two had been caught streaming rolls of toilet paper throughout the girl's bathroom and Principal Asher promised phone calls to both their parents. Amy and Sasha knew exactly what that meant -- a night of sleeping on their stomachs.

The girls had gone straight to their private treehouse, hidden in the woods behind Amy's house, to discuss the situation.

Amy was terrified of going home. "After that ketchup incident in the cafeteria last week, Daddy said the next time he'll paddle my butt until it blisters," she moaned.

Sasha nodded. "My Dad said I'll get the strap."

Amy, the more petite of the two, checked her watch for the zillionth time in the past ten minutes. "If I go home before my father gets there, my Mom will give me a hairbrushing to 'tide me over.' But if I wait, Daddy's spanking will be even worse."

The two sat glumly for a few minutes, when Sasha brightened. "Say, remember about two months ago when we were running in the house and I broke your Mom's favorite lamp?"

"Yeah." Amy winced, her right hand going to rub her bottom. "We both got the hairbrush from my Mom for rough-housing."

"Right. But when I went home, I told my Mom your Mom had already spanked me and so she didn't spank me again."

Amy shrugged. "So? Our parents don't care who spanks us, as long as we get spanked."

Sasha's brown eyes gleamed. "Yeah, but what if you tell your parents my Dad paddled you and I tell my parents your Dad spanked me? Then we'd get off scott free!"

The idea excited the petite blonde girl, who laughed at the ruse. "Brilliant! Sasha, you are a genius!" Suddenly she frowned. "But what if they check with each other?"

"They never have before. I mean, if we walk in all sullen and sore like we've just had our buns warmed, why would they doubt us?"

Amy shook her head. "I don't know. It's a good idea, but my Dad's gonna be pretty mad. Even if he believes me, he might take me over his knee for another dose, just to make sure I've learned my lesson. And once he sees my white bottom he'd know I hadn't been spanked earlier."

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that. Now that you mention it, my Mom's done that a few times to me. She usually just gives me a handful of fresh hairbrush strokes, nothing major, but you're right. If she saw my bottom was white..."

"Wait!" Amy snapped her fingers. "I've got it. All we've got to do is make it look like we've been spanked. Our bottoms need to be a little red, that's all."

"So?"

"So, why don't _we_ do it? Just give each other a few slaps. When the skin's red, we'll stop. It might hurt a little, but it'll be nothing like a real spanking."

It didn't take much to convince Sasha, knowing what awaited her at home if she didn't try her scheme, and she quickly allowed her best friend to give her a quick spanking. She pulled down her panties and stretched across Amy's lap and waited. Amy stared at the pale, plump bottom and raised her hand high.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

SMACK! "Oooh!"

SMACK! "Ahhh!"

SMACK!! "EEEEch!"

Amy paused. "How does that feel?"

"It stings, but it's not bad after you stop."

"Well, your bottom doesn't even look pink, let alone red. I guess I'll have to give you a lot more."

Sasha grunted, gritting her teeth bravely, and Amy continued the spanking. After about two dozen spanks Amy could see a pinkness showing, but it wasn't much. She sighed.

"I guess that will have to do, Sasha. My hand's starting to hurt."

"Okay, my turn."

The girls switched places, with Amy pulling down her jeans and underwear before she went over Sasha's lap. She giggled as she waited.

"This feels really strange."

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

"It's kinda fun."

"Well, I'll fix that," declared Sasha, and began to slap the juttering orbs of Amy's bottom.

"Ohhhh!" moaned Amy, after several dozen blows. "Stop it! That's more than I gave you!"

"But your butt's not even pink. If your father saw this he'd never think you'd been spanked."

Amy bit her lower lip. "You know what this means, Sash?" She glanced toward her friend's purse, lying on the floor nearby. "Go get your hairbrush. It's obvious a spanking by hand isn't going to work."

Sasha didn't like it, but knew her friend was right. "Okay," she said. Amy got up and Sasha fetched her hairbrush and Amy bent back over. The brush was small and made of plastic, but the backside was smooth.

"This isn't anything like Mom's wooden one," said Sasha, "but it will have to do."

She began to paddle her friend in earnest now, drawing forth yelps and cries and little gasps of pain. "Hang in there," she cried. "I'm doing this for your own good. Think what your father would be doing."

"I know!" gasped Amy. "But it still hurts. Don't mind me, though. Just make sure you redden my bottom good."

Finally, after a full ten minutes with the hairbrush, Sasha was satisfied. Reluctantly she stopped. "I guess it's my turn now," she said, licking her lips nervously.

"You'd better believe it. I'm going to blister your behind. Man my rear hurts!"

It took Amy a few minutes to get comfortable sitting down, but once she had, she pulled Sasha over her lap and went at her friend with a vengeance. Sasha hollered and kicked and dripped tears, but soon her bottom was just as red as Amy's.

"Oh, thank God that's over. That sure hurt!" gasped Sasha, standing up and rubbing her sore bottom frantically.

"Yeah, but at least it's red. How's my rear look?" Amy tugged her jeans and panties down again so Sasha could look. "Well? How is it?"

Sasha shook her head somberly. "I don't know why, but it's hardly red at all. I mean, it's pink, but after one of my Daddy's whippings my butt is _scarlet_!"

"You mean it didn't work?"

"All that for nothing. I guess a real spanking is much worse than what we can do with this little hairbrush."

Amy puckered her lips stubbornly. "Well, I'm not going to give up yet. All I know is that I'm _not_ going to get a paddling from my father." Stepping out of her pants and panties, Amy walked to the treehouse door. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

But Amy had disappeared. Sasha ran to the window and watched as her friend, naked from the waist down, climbed out on one of the large tree branches. She made her way several limbs upward and then carefully broke off a long, thin switch. It was green and very flexible, and Sasha felt a quiver go through her body.

"You don't seriously want to get whipped with that!" she cried the second Amy got back inside the treehouse.

"Why not?"

"Cuz it'll hurt like hell!"

"It's still better than a blistering from our parents."

Sasha had to concede on that point. She didn't relish getting whipped with a tree branch -- she'd gotten switched once, several years ago while on a camping trip. At the time she'd thought the thin little stick looked far less intimidating than her father's big wooden paddle, but after the first stroke she concluded it was far worse than any paddle.

Amy bent over the small desk, her naked bottom sticking out behind her, and waited for her whipping. Sasha took up the switch and swished it through the air. It made a light hissing sound. When she swung it with moderate force across the base of Amy's butt it made a splatting noise. A blossom of pink lines appeared on Amy's pert cheeks.

"Yeooww!" hollered Amy loudly, leaping and dancing in pain. "That really stings!"

"I told you," said Sasha, and promptly delivered another stroke.

"H-h-how man-many... of these... d-d-do weee ne-ne-neeeed," stammered Amy after the sixth painful swipe.

"I think about a dozen should do it," answered Sasha as she gave her friend another sharp cut.

"Oooooh!" moaned the blonde. "Please, that's enough. That _really_ hurts."

But Sasha, once determined, refused to stop. Twice she had to order a frightened and howling Amy to get back in position, but eventually the dozen strokes were administered. As she handed the switch to Amy she could see pain and self-pity turning into fury in the blonde's eyes.

"You're really going to get it," growled Amy. "Get over that desk!"

A shiver passed through Sasha, but she obeyed her friend. After all, since Amy had taken a whipping, Sasha couldn't back out now. She held her breath. There was a swish and her bottom exploded with a sharp line of pain. Sasha almost screamed. She couldn't believe how badly it hurt. "Ohhhh!" she cried, moaning and wiggling her little rear back and forth.

"That's one," said Amy, unable to hide the delight in her voice. She snapped her arm down again, a red stripe blossoming on Sasha's backside. Sasha howled in pain. Amy struck her again and again, chastising her and telling her to be still, and to take her whipping with dignity.

When it was over Sasha couldn't stop crying. Her body heaved with huge sobs and her throat hurt. But nothing was as bad as the flaming of her buttocks. She grabbed her ass with her hands and wept more vividly as her fingers touched the thick pulsing weals that decorated her butt.

"I don't know if that's enough," Amy was saying thoughtfully. "Perhaps another six, just to be sure."

"Oh God, please, no more," begged Sasha. "My ass feels like it's been shredded!"

"Yeah, but can you imagine how it will feel if your father finds out what we did? We've got to make this whipping seem realistic."

Sasha pictured herself over her father's lap with his big paddle slamming into her sore ass and her heart grew stubborn. "Okay," she nodded, gritting her teeth. "Another six."

Every stroke drew a scream from the girl. Her bottom and upper thighs were streaked with red lines of pain. She could not stop weeping. Even when Amy gave her the switch and bent over for her six, it was all Sasha could to do stand and pant.

"Hurry up," snapped Amy. "I don't like waiting. Just get it over with!"

"I'm trying," mumbled Sasha, sniffing and wiping tears from her face. She stared at her friend's round bottom, the pale skin blotched with red and striped with lines of dark crimson. She resolved to make these last six count.

"Owwwww!" screamed Amy at the first cut. "God that hurts!"

"Fuckin' right," snapped Sasha, delivering another stroke as hard as she could.

Amy was crying after the first stroke. By the third she was wiggling to escape, though she somehow maintained the will to remain in position. Sasha put the next one low, across the back of Amy's legs, and Amy's reaction startled the blond it was so intense.

"Oooooooohh... ahhhhhhhh," moaned Amy incoherently, dancing and kicking her feet. She couldn't speak. Her eyes dripped non-stop but she didn't get up as the branch lashed down yet again.

When the final stroke had been applied, Sasha threw it out of the treehouse. She wanted it far from her. She gathered the sobbing Amy in a hug and for a while the two girls simply cried.

"I guess we'd better be getting home," sniffed Amy finally. "We don't want to get in even worse trouble."

Sasha agreed and a moment later Amy was left alone. Slowly she walked up the walkway to her house. Her bottom throbbed as she moved and tears stung her eyes. The thought of more spanking terrified her, but with hope beating faintly in her heart, she opened the door.

Her Mom was waiting in the kitchen. Amy tried not to notice the big wooden hairbrush prominently resting on the kitchen table.

"H-hi Mom," she managed.

Amy's mother turned, her face dark with fury and grim with determination. "Get over here, young lady!" she roared. "You and I have a long session with the hairbrush planned!"

Fear clawed at Amy and she felt herself beginning to panic. Her hands rushed toward her bottom, protecting the tender cheeks with real passion. "But Mom," she cried, tears suddenly pouring down her cheeks, "Sa-Sa-Sasha's father already p-p-punished meeee!"

"Well, that's fine, but you've got a refreshing coming from me, and I have no doubt your father will have more than words for you when he gets home."

"Please..." cried the girl, but she was already being pulled across the broad lap of her mother. There was brief struggle and then Amy's jeans were unlatched and tugged downward. Amy howled and threw hands back to protect herself.

"Quiet girl," snapped the woman, grasping the waistband of Amy's panties and yanking them down. "Oh!" she gasped, startled at the mass of red blisters and black bruises. "Oh," she said again, totally confused.

"Sasha's father did this?"

"Yes," breathed Amy, hoping she could lie convincingly.

"What did he whip you with!" cried Amy's mother. "You poor dear. You deserved a spanking but this is near child abuse. I shall have to call and talk to that man. How dare he whip you so badly!"

"Oh no," moaned Amy, desperation rising in her voice. "Please, Mom, don't do that! I deserved everything I got. Just don't spank me any more."

"Of course I won't spank you. You've obviously learned your lesson. But I must call. This thrashing is too much!"

Through a series of tearful beggings prompted Amy's Mom to finally relent, though reluctantly, and she told Amy to go to her room and wait for her father.

"Please, don't let him spank me," cried Amy in real terror.

"Of course he won't. But he will want to look at your bottom himself."

"Don't let him call Sasha's Dad! Please promise me you won't. I know I deserved everything I got."

The woman relented reluctantly. "Oh, all right. I suppose he gave the same to Sasha."

"Uh, of course."

"Well, I still think it was too harsh, but if you're not complaining...." Amy's Mom paused. "Perhaps your father and I have been too sensitive with you. Maybe we haven't been spanking you hard enough."

"Oh, no, your spankings are fine, Mom!"

"Well, your father and I will talk it over. You are getting to be a big girl, though."

The discussion concluded, Amy went to her room and sank gratefully onto the soft bed, face down. Her bottom throbbed, but she was glad she'd gotten out of a real spanking.

"I guess Sasha and I went a little overboard," she mused, putting a hand back to feel the scorching heat in her rear. "Serves us right for comes up with such a stupid plan!"

The End

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