I Was a Teenage Rebel

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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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I Was A Teenage Rebel

(****, M/f, Intense, spanked teen, sex)

An woman recalls her wild days of youth when she learned the true price of rebellion. (Approximately 6,549 words. Originally published 1996-02.)

It's true. I was terribly rebellious in my younger days. My father died when I was six, and I became a holy terror. My mother was too confused and upset herself to do much with me. She let me do what I liked. When I began creating mischief and causing problems she blamed my behavior on my father's death and therefore didn't punish me. Needless to say, that only encouraged me.

By the time I was a teenager, things were really bad. In the spring of 1955 when I was fourteen my mother had a nervous breakdown. People said it was because of me but I just laughed at them. I'm ashamed to remember that now.

At fourteen I was, well, rather endowed. My womanhood had blossomed quite early. Even adult men and college boys noticed me, not to mention high schoolers and boys my own age. At the dances I was very popular and since mother frowned on it, I soon gained a rather "loose" reputation.

Now understand that this was the fifties--loose then meant heavy petting and necking in the backseat of a boy's car. I was still a virgin in many respects, especially the important one.

The incident that caused my mother's breakdown was my outright disobedience and shameless behavior. I had bought a new swimsuit (with money I'd snitched from her purse I might add) that she strongly disapproved of. She not only forbade me to use it, but grounded me when I violently protested. In anger she slashed the suit with a parring knife and sent me to bed without supper.

I was furious, so furious I couldn't even speak. I grabbed the suit and ran to my room crying. That was Friday, and on Saturday afternoon everyone was going swimming down at the old Millburn pond, the first swim of the summer (it was May). At the time I had a particular crush on a guy named Tom Banks, and I had strongly hinted to him that I had a new suit I would wear. He and a number of his friends had heard me, and many of mine were there when I spoke to him. I couldn't not show up!

So I went. The suit was shredded, but I wore it anyway. Believe me, it would still attract attention today, that suit! It was still predominantly whole, but a number of rips revealed skin and several prominent body features. Almost all of one breast was visible, and at least half of one buttock. It was scandalous, but I was a scandalous girl.

The other girls were shocked speechless. The guys couldn't even think of any of the other girls, even the high school girls that were present. Everything was working out perfectly.

But then mother found me missing and headed for the pond. When she saw me she fainted dead away. The doctor took her home and gave her tranquilizers. He had no reluctance expressing his disapproval of me, constantly muttering and clicking his tongue, but he showed the same lack of reluctance when it came to sneaking glances of me from the corner of his eyes.

After the pond bit mother was ill for quite some time. She completely stopped telling me what to do. I rejoiced in my new-found freedom, stayed out till 3 or 4 a.m. on school nights, and often didn't come home at all on weekends. When summer break started my behavior grew even worse. I refused to help around the house, though I still ate meals and slept there. I was my own boss. Everything was grand.

Then in the middle of June mother made a devastating announcement: she'd enrolled me for camp. Though two of my friends were going, I didn't want to go. I had plans for the summer. Big plans. Summer was when the college boys returned home, and I wanted to introduce myself. And the camp was an all-girls camp, besides!

I went to camp. I'm not quite sure how it happened, exactly. Somehow when the day came I found myself boarding the bus with the other girls. I was furious, but resigned.

Camp itself wasn't so bad. There were lots of other girls to gossip with. We swam, played games, had competitions, and camped out. The ordinary camp stuff.

But after just a week I became bored. There were no boys. Well, there were, but they were several miles down the road at the boys camp. Sometimes a few of them would sneak over late at night. But they would run away when we saw them.

Then I met the "Major." His name was John Majors, but everyone called him the Major. Some thought he'd been in the army or something, but he was awfully young for that. He was only twenty-six years old, but very tall, strong, dark, and handsome as a god. He had a smile that'd knock you over, crisp white teeth gleaming and eyes shining. He had a wonderful sense of humor, and he was great with all the girls, even the less popular ones, getting them involved and teasing them as much as the cute girls. The Major was the sports instructor. He didn't live on the grounds, but had a cabin down the road somewhere. He'd been away for the first week because he'd been delayed while traveling in Europe. He actually had studied in Paris!

Needless to say, all the girls fell for him, hard. We'd talk about him at night and fantasize about what he'd be like on a date, in bed, to kiss. I stayed silent during these exchanges. Usually I was extremely vocal about my desires and planned "conquests," but I didn't want to talk about the Major.

I did, however, become much more rebellious after the Major arrived. It was my way of attracting attention. But the Major had the patience of a saint. He never grew angry or upset, but would calmly reprimand me and tease me.

"Late again?" he'd say. "That's twenty lashes, young lady! Now get with the program!" and he'd swat my behind with a ping pong paddle. I can tell you, I just thrilled to it. Everyone would laugh and I'd blush, but I really was not embarrassed at all. I could have been naked before him and not been the least ashamed. The Major was so open and unassuming it was hard to imagine being embarrassed around him.

But then the Major began to hear about my other rebellious activities. As campers we all were required to take turns at KP and other chores, and we had to keep our rooms and bunks neat. Naturally I rebelled at these duties, and the Major took notice.

One day during a swimming exercise I arrived late, as usual, and everyone else was already swimming across the lake. The Major stood by himself near the edge of the water shouting encouragement and watching for stragglers.

"Sorry I'm late, sir!" I said primly. He turned slowly and looked at him.

"A little rebel, aren't we DeeDee?" He always called me that. My name is Dana, but he preferred DeeDee. It sent shivers down my spine and I practically melted at his feet. I could feel heat between my legs as I looked at his face.

"I hear you aren't showing up for KP. That's very naughty, girl. Very, very naughty." Something in the way he spoke made me tremble inside, and I ached to kiss his lips. He spoke again but I didn't hear. Suddenly he shook me and I saw him. His eyes were gentle, but firm. He wasn't smiling.

"Did you hear what I said?" I shook my head. My throat felt dry and tight as a knot. I couldn't breathe. He looked out at the swimmers. They had reached the other side and were returning. Sally was in the lead, and I knew she wanted to win just to impress him. She had a terrible crush on him.

He shook me again and I looked into his eyes. "Listen to me, DeeDee. You will turn around right now and head for the kitchen and do your KP. No swimming for you today." I shook my head in dismay, but he continued. "Yes, you will go and do your KP. In fact, you will put in _ten_hours_ of KP between now and tomorrow evening, double what you are required. Is that understood."

It was a statement, not a question, but I slowly nodded.

He smiled now, a wicked smile. "And if you do not do your KP...?"

I found my voice. "What?"

His smile grew larger and less friendly. "If you do not obey, you will meet me here tomorrow evening at seven. You will discover the consequences then."

I did not have a clue what he meant but I knew immediately that would be here at seven the next evening, because there was no way I was going to miss an opportunity to be alone with the Major, regardless of the consequences.

The first of the girls arrived on the beach with Sally in the lead. She ran up and stood almost possessively beside the Major. He turned and shouted to the rest to hurry. I turned and left. I went to my cabin and pretended to read. I really had wanted to swim.

The next evening I stood by the pier. It was five to seven. I was wearing my jeans and a light shirt but I was cold standing near the clear lake. The sun had disappeared behind the trees but it was still light, though it would be pitch dark in an hour or so.

I heard a sound behind me and the Major stepped out from behind the trees. He shook his head when he saw me. "I was afraid you'd be here," he said. He was wearing jeans and warm hunting jacket. He took this off and put it around my shoulders. "It's cold out here," he whispered. "Follow me."

I followed without question and without thought. I tried to watch him walking before me, though it was dark under the trees. I had never seen him in jeans. During the day he always wore shorts.

We walked a long time. Neither of us spoke. There was something oppressive in the air. I was feeling excited and a little worried. Where were we heading? I had never been this far from camp, nor on this side. We cut along the north side of the lake and headed into the mountains. He seemed to know exactly where he wanted to go, stepping confidently through the dark woods. I hugged his coat around me and hurried closer to him. It was cold and dark.

Soon we emerged at a little clearing. There was a tiny cabin at the other end, and stack of freshly cut logs stood by the doorway. There were more logs under a lean-to on the other side of the cabin. Parked under the lean-to was a large motorcycle. A faint smoke trail emerged from the chimney.

"Welcome," he spoke proudly, and I knew we were at his home. My emotions now were really confused and was rather nervous. Games and silliness were one thing, but this was something else entirely. What did he have in mind? I was now beginning to regret following him so mindlessly.

He opened the front door and we entered. It was small but very clean and neat, efficient. There was a couch and some chairs before the fireplace, and a small rug. On the other side was a bed neatly made. A heavily-laden bookshelf hung over the head of the bed. A chest of drawers was against the wall at the foot of the bed. To the left was obviously the kitchen, with a small fridge, stove, and a table and two chair. Fastened against the wall were two cabinets. Below them was a sink and small countertop area. The place was very small, very bare, very simple.

The fire was warm and inviting, and I eagerly stepped forward to it. "It is a very nice place," I said.

"Thanks. It's small, but I like it." He added a log to the fire causing it to roar up brightly. He headed into the kitchen. "Would you like some water to drink?"

"Sure, if that's what you have."

"It's all I drink," he said smiling as he poured two glasses from a cold pitcher from the fridge. I took my glass and sipped it before the fireplace. It was good, ice cold and fresh.

He took his coat from me and hung it on a peg on the back of the door. "Now DeeDee," he said, and I saw he was serious again. "Do you know why you are here?"

I blushed a little but hoped he couldn't see--the only light came from the blazing fireplace. "Not really," I said.

"You are here because you are a very naughty girl. Worse than that, you have no shame at being a naughty girl. And far, far worse than that, you have no idea what being a naughty girl means. You don't know the price of what you are purchasing, at that is terribly, terribly, wrong."

I stared at him but said nothing. I wasn't exactly sure what he meant.

He stepped closer to me and looked into my eyes. "DeeDee, there's nothing wrong with being a bad girl, if that's what you really want. But it takes a lot of courage to be a bad girl. Are you sure you've got that courage? Are you _really_ a rebel?"

He spoke quietly, confidently. He voice held concern but was stern. He was very serious. I shook my head. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"I mean, DeeDee, are you ready to take the consequences of your actions? Look at you. You're almost a woman. Being a bad girl and being a bad woman are two very different things. Are you sure you are ready to take the consequences of being a bad woman? Can you even take the consequences of being a bad girl?"

"What are the consequences?"

He smiled. It was another devilish smile. It made my knees weak. "Ah, that is just the point, DeeDee. One never knows, exactly, the consequences of any action. One can project. One can hope. But one never knows for sure. Except that there are consequences. That _is_ for sure."

"Am I supposed to decide something without knowing the consequences then?"

"Of course. In just a moment you will decide if you really want to be a bad girl. If not, I'll take you back to the camp. If so, you'll take the consequences."

"But you won't tell me what they will be."

Again the wolfish smile. "Of course not. You will be punished, that much is certain. All bad girls are punished. How, when, to what extent, who knows. But you will suffer the consequences." There was a pause. Then he spoke softly, so softly I had to strain to hear him over the cracking of the fire. "Are you a rebel, DeeDee? Or are you just pretending?"

There was no hesitation on my part. Or rather, the hesitation came _after_ I spoke. "I'm a rebel!" I swallowed the rest of my water and prayed I wasn't making a big mistake.

The Major's beamed. "Excellent choice. I hope you enjoy your punishment to the maximum!"

I gave him my sultriest smile. "So what's my punishment?"

"Patience, patience, girl. All in good time. First things first. Take off your clothes."

I stared at him. I wasn't sure what to think. This wasn't beyond my expectations, exactly, but it was much earlier than I had expected. Was he serious?

"Now, DeeDee! Take off your clothes. All of them. This is the first of your consequences. Public exposure. So take everything off. Everything."

The next thing I knew I was taking off my shirt. By the time I'd done that I knew I couldn't stop. I'd already gone too far. I kicked off my shoes, slipped off my jeans. Now I hesitated, but he tilted his head like he was expecting something. I took a deep breath and removed my bra.

Like I said, I might have been only fourteen, but I looked like sixteen or seventeen. Once, when I was with my girlfriend Anna who was babysitting a neighbor's kid, a woman at the drugstore thought little Andy was my son! But until now, no adult man had ever really seen me naked. It was exhilarating. It was terrifying. I was nervous and blushing like a fool, but I could feel heat between my legs.

The Major just nodded and took my bra and added to the pile of clothes and looked at me expectantly. I took another breath and pulled down my underwear. Now my sex was burning hot. I was sweating all over and all trembly inside. I gave the Major my panties and stood awkwardly, trying to shield myself but knowing full well it was foolish. There was too much area to cover.

The Major smiled and took all my clothes and piled them in the far corner behind the kitchen table. When he returned he silently took my hands and placed them on my neck behind my head. "Keep your hands there," he instructed sternly, and I felt a shiver go through me. "And stare straight ahead. Don't look around." I was trembling, but he smiled.

"Enjoying being a bad girl? Isn't it _fun_ being naughty?" I didn't know what to say, so I kept silent. I felt open, exposed. He could see everything now. He walked behind me then came around front. I could feel his eyes burning into every private part of me. They came down my back, curved over my buttocks, slid down my legs, came up my legs, lingered around my thighs, my sex, my stomach, my breasts, and finally settled on my face.

"Very beautiful. You are very beautiful, DeeDee. Very beautiful. A treasure. A shame to see you waste it all being a rebel." I didn't say anything. "All right," he said. "Spread your legs. Pull them as far apart as you can."

I stared at him, speechless. This was too much. I shook my head and pulled my hands down to cover myself, pressing my legs tightly together, even though that only antagonized my sex.

The Major started to speak, then stopped. "All right. We'll save that one for later. But trust me. Full exposure is a part of the consequences." He appeared to think for a moment. "OK. Lie down, here, on your stomach. Put your hands behind your neck again." He motioned to the rug in front of the fireplace and helped me into position. I co-operated without a sound.

It was awkward, lying there like that. My buttocks felt exposed as he towered above me looking down on them. My chin was grinding into the smelly rug, and my breasts where painfully being pushed into the carpet. I could feel my nipples grinding against the rough fibers. It was terribly erotic and I felt a slight wetness between my legs and I blushed, again hoping he couldn't see.

Suddenly he was kneeling beside me. His left hand went under my chest and grabbed my left breast. He squeezed it hard and pinched the nipple. Before I could protest he was doing the same with the right breast. His hand pulled away and left my breasts aching for his touch. There was more wetness between my legs.

Then, while his left hand held my hands still, his right touched my buttocks. He caressed them a moment, and then began to massage them, squeezing and pinching them hard. I let out a sharp cry and tears came to my eyes, but he appeared not to notice.

He began pushing and pulling at my buttocks. Pulling them apart, pulling one up and the other down, then reversing. When he stopped I was breathing hard and I felt terribly drained. My bottom felt larger than normal and burned like my nipples. I was positive there was a small puddle of moisture beneath me.

Suddenly something cold and heavy laid across my buttocks. I strained my neck to be able to see. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of large wooden paddle resting on my bottom.

The Major spoke softly in my ear, soothing words that alternately terrified and alarmed me, yet somehow I remained calm. "DeeDee," he whispered, but his voice was stern. "I am going to spank you now. I am going to spank you terribly hard. You are going to experience more pain than you have ever experienced in your entire life. But you are going to lie quietly are take the pain, DeeDee. You are going to receive the paddle with pleasure. You are going to crave every blow, DeeDee, because you know you deserve it. You deserve far worse, far, far, far, worse, DeeDee, and you will receive it, don't you worry. But for now, I am simply going to spank you very hard and you are going to cry and moan under my paddle. You are not going to speak or cry out. You will not even think of moving your hands from the back of your neck. No, you will lie quietly and suffer, DeeDee, suffer many, many hard spanks. You will suffer because you deserve it. And you will moan, DeeDee. You will moan and groan and shed beautiful wet tears to show me how much you suffer and how much you deserve this spanking. Do you understand, DeeDee?"

There was a stunned silence, and finally I managed a whimper and slight nod. I was too petrified to move. I could only lie there and dread what I knew was about to happen, wonder how much it would really hurt. I could only lie there and tremble.

Yet a part of me was eager. A part of me agreed fully with the Major. I did deserve to be spanked. How many awful things had I done in my life? Had I ever really been punished? Not really. I did deserve this. I deserved much worse than this. So I lay there, my sex wet, my nipples aching, my bottom bare and exposed, my face red.

I gasped at the first blow. I could feel my buttocks trembling, the stinging pain radiating from them. I struggled for composure when the second blow struck, and then the third, the fourth, and a fifth. Tears were pouring down my face now. I was whimpering, my whole body shivering. The pain was intense. All I could feel was my buttocks. All I could think about was the burning pain. More blows rained down. I struggled to keep my hands behind my neck. I tried to tell myself it didn't really hurt. But I didn't believe it.

The blows were hard. The paddle was thin and strong. The sound was frightfully loud and echoed through the tiny room. It made me feel very small. The paddle bounced my bottom up and down. I could feel my hips rising and falling with the blows and I tried to stop them, to hold them still, but I could not. My whole body vibrated under the blows. I could feel my nipples, again. They were being rubbed raw against the carpet.

At first there was no feeling between my legs. The pain of my buttocks was all I could feel. But as the paddling continued without any sign of abating, I lay trembling, moaning and whimpering under the blows. Most of me was blinded my the pain, but a part of me was envisioning the whole process. I could see myself lying there, naked and quietly struggling and suffering, tears wetting the carpet. I could see the Major kneeling beside me, the paddle in his strong right hand flashing down hard, again and again, no mercy, just hard, fast blows. But mostly I could imagine my buttocks, naked and white from lack of sun, bouncing and dancing under the paddle spanks, the white skin reddening to a bright, fiery, sunburn. It was red in patches now, I knew, but as he began to move the paddle around, I knew my entire bottom would soon be the color of red meat. In fact, that's how my buttocks felt. They felt huge and enormous and raw, and I now groaned loudly, unashamed. I now moved my body violently with the paddle without thought or control.

Dimly I could sense a deep wetness between my legs. The paddle was now spanking the lower, more generous portion of my buttocks. I groaned loudly and received the spanks without complaint, my body jerking in timing with the blows. I was now rising off the floor completely when the blows struck. I would sink back down in between and then rise to receive the next spank. I was utterly consumed. I could think of nothing other than the image of that paddle striking my bottom, the white skin reddening, the terrible crack ringing in my ears. The pain had gone beyond feeling. It was still there, but I was only dimly conscious of it. I was transported, gone. I deserved it and I received it. It was simple.

Time was forgotten. I have no idea how long I lay there while the Major spanked me, or how many blows I received. It seemed like forever, and the blows were countless. Later, when I tried to reconstruct what happened, I figured it must have been at least five minutes, but it could just as easily have been twenty. Even five minutes would have been a couple hundreds spanks at the rate he was going.

But suddenly it was over. My body was jerking in rhythm to a paddle that no longer descended. It took me a moment to realize it was over. I collapsed, sobbing like a baby. My bottom radiated heat like the sun. I would have sworn it was outshining the fire. I lay exhausted, drained, and consumed. I swear I have never felt as good as I did at that moment. I felt like what I imagine long-distance runners feel at the end of the race. I was moving on instinct, and suddenly its all over, I'm in pain, but it feels so good because I know it's over.

Something touched my bottom and I cried out in pain. "Shhhhh," whispered the Major. "I know it hurts, but this will help it heal." He smoothed an ointment across the punished skin of my buttocks. It felt cooling but stung after a moment. His hands felt rough and every time his fingers left my skin my buttocks were in agony.

The Major helped me to stand. "There, that's better. Now, how about that demonstration I asked for earlier?" I stared at him blankly, trying not to think about my throbbing backside.

"Spread your legs, DeeDee," he said, smiling. "Or would you like more of this?" He held up the paddle. I quickly moved my knees as far apart as I could. Ripples of pain washed though my buttocks, but I ignored them and stood awkwardly while the Major stepped forward and examined me.

I've been examined professionally, but I must say that the Major did as thorough a job as any doctor, perhaps better. He poked his fingers and caused me feelings I had never known I could experience. I trembled but was too dazed and confused to protest. I felt weak and shaky. Everything seemed like something out of a dream. The pain was real, but even that seemed fuzzy and sensual. My sex felt hot and wet. I could felt a trace of moisture dripping down my leg.

"Excellent! You are a very healthy girl. Not quite as naughty as I might have expected, but very healthy. Surely there's some rebel left in you. Huh?" He put his hand under my chin and forced me to look at him. His eyes were as gentle and as kind as ever. His grip was firm and his smell made me feel weak inside. I didn't say anything.

"All right, let's try some more consequences and see how you handle them." I was speechless. More consequences? Yes, many more, he said. He told me I had been a very naughty girl indeed, and many, many punishments remained. That first spanking was just the introduction.

Now he attached a rope to a hook in the ceiling. He adjusted the length of the rope and told me to grab it with both hands. I had to stand on tiptoe to do it, but I managed, though it caused pain to flash across my buttocks.

"Don't let go of that rope for any reason," he said. Next he produced a thick leather strap which he showed me. I bit my lip and said nothing. The first blow was across my thighs and I trembled and tried not to move my legs but could not. The stinging was incredible. He struck me again, and then several times in rapid succession. My thighs were stinging now, and he really went at it. Blow after blow landed, and I couldn't keep still.

"Jog in place," he whispered not stopping the whipping. I ran like dogs were after me. It helped ease the pain a little, to run, but I could only imagine what he saw, me running, my burning buttocks bouncing before his eyes, my reddening thighs bright and trembling, my legs moving rapidly.

He moved down to my calves, whipping them mercilessly, and then returned to my thighs. I was getting tired of running, and I slowed down. A blow landed full across my buttocks. The pain was fierce and I was running full speed again. He gave me a few more across the buttocks for good measure, and then it was my thighs again.

When he finally stopped I just hung there, stunned, exhausted, and too weak to move. He took me down and laid me before the fire. He retrieved a blanket from somewhere and gave it to me. "Go to sleep. We'll continue later. Don't worry," he said as I opened my mouth to speak, "you won't be missed at the camp. I've cleared everything."

I didn't really want to stay there. I wanted to leave, to go home and cry, but I curled up in the blanket before the warm fire and in seconds I was asleep. I don't know how long I slept, but suddenly he was shaking me. "It's time to get up, DeeDee," he said. "We've got more lessons. Do you need to use the restroom?"

I nodded dumbly and he led me to the door leaving my blanket on the floor. My body felt stiff, my buttocks were very sore. Outside it was freezing and dark. I still had nothing on. I hugged the Major for warmth and followed him around to the back of the cabin where there was an outhouse. I hurried and did my thing--I swear I've never been faster. In just a moment we were back inside and I stood shivering in front of the fire.

I started to pick up the blanket but he shook his head. For some reason I obeyed. I didn't even care if he saw me naked. I just wanted to get warm. He stood watching me for a few minutes without saying anything. Slowly I came back to room temperature and began to get nervous under his stare. He was looking at my buttocks now, and I wondered how they looked, all reddened and blistered, I supposed.

"When was the last time you were hand-spanked?"

His voice startled me. I turned around slowly. "What kind of question is that?"

He repeated it. I stared at the ground for a moment. What could I tell him? What did he want to know? I didn't know. So I told him the truth. "Last night was my first spanking of any kind, period."

"Really?" That devilish smile again. It made me very nervous.

"You're not--"

"Of course. You have much to learn yet. Though I must say you are learning quite rapidly." Without another word he sat on the couch and motioned me over. Reluctantly I obeyed. He took my hand and placed it against his crotch. My eyes went wide. I had never really touched a man there before. I had seen pictures, but never even seen one in real life. Now I was touching one. He grinned. "What would it take to get you to put it in your mouth?"

I shook my head. This was really too much. There was no way I would do that, no way at all. Almost instantly, it seemed, I found myself across his lap, my breasts and long hair hanging down, my buttocks up in the air. His left hand moved my hands to their position on the back of my neck, his right hand touched my bottom. I groaned, anticipating the inevitable.

The first few slaps sounded louder than they hurt. But then the pain began to sink in, and soon I was trembling and groaning as he spanked me. The blows were hard. His hand was heavy and firm, and he spanked me out of rhythm, catching me off guard. He spanked my bottom mostly, though sometimes he slapped my thighs. The worst was the way he'd move around. He spanked my whole bottom. For a while he'd just spank my right buttock and then he'd switch to the left. Then he'd strike the thin-skinned upper portion, and then switch to the lower part. Sometimes he'd strike both buttocks at once, other times he'd alternate. Very quickly I was crying, my tears dripping to the floor, my breathing heavy. On and on he went, the pain growing, starting to really hurt, until I began to wonder if this weren't hurting as much or even more than last night's paddling. I thought for sure he was almost done, but he continued, turning me slightly so he could get a better angle on the side of my right buttock. He spanked here for a very long time, then turned me over and gave me the same on the left side. It hurt terribly, and soon I was gasping for breath, moaning loudly in spite of myself.

Suddenly he rolled me over and slapped my breasts. I was too surprised to resist. He slapped them again and again, heavy blows that made them shift right and left across my chest. The blows didn't really sting; they made my breasts feel heavy and the nipples grew hard.

Then he had me over and he spanked my bottom some more. "Tell me when you've had enough," he said, continuing to spank me.

"Enough!" I gasped.

"So you'll comply? With your mouth?"

Suddenly I was angry. Did he think it was that easy? He'd just spank me a few times and watch me roll over and fetch? No way! "Go to hell," I said.

I received an extra hard spank for that. But that was just the beginning. Now he really began to spank me hard. I thought he had been spanking me hard before, but now I knew those were just friendly love-pats.

These blows shook my whole body. He gave me a whole series of them, impossibly hard, quick, sharp blows that knocked the wind clean out of me. I gasped and lay silent, and for several minutes the only sound was the deafening slaps echoing throughout the cabin. Then he shifted to a fresh spot, and a groaned anew. The skin of my buttocks was burning, it flamed, and he heaped coals upon it. Suddenly he left my buttocks and punished my thighs for a while, and my buttocks lay open, bare, exposed to the air. They felt so naked and exposed and painful. I would have sworn I could never have put on my jeans if I had had the opportunity--my buttocks were two or three times as large as normal. They felt heavy and leaden, and the heat from them radiated through me and throughout my sex. I could feel myself dripping on the Major's leg. But all too soon he was spanking my poor bottom once again.

"Had enough?" he asked pleasantly at one point.

I hesitated a moment and then said, "Never!" To my surprise my voice wavered. But this seemed to be something he could handle. Without a word he picked up the paddle and began to use it. Immediately I began to wish I'd said yes. Now my buttocks were boiling. The paddle was heavy and thundered down across my buttocks. Blow after blow landed, and all I could do was lay there and tremble and accept it. But there was still some rebel left in me. When he finally paused again, I calmly said, "Please give me more," and actually turned my buttocks towards him! Unfortunately for me he complied eagerly, and soon I was groaning and dancing in his lap.

Then he set me down on the floor on my hands and knees and took up the strap. I expected more of the same, but suddenly he struck a blow between my legs and across my raw sex. It was torture. It was ecstasy. I couldn't move. Again and again he whipped my sex mercilessly. The pain was incredible, but each stroke also gave my sex pleasure. I do not know how long this lasted, but suddenly I forgot who I was. I could remember nothing except I was only conscious of being punished and deserving it. And I knelt there and received it, I spread my legs to receive it, and when the opportunity presented itself, I took his member into my mouth and gave him pleasure while he continued to whip me, whipping me all the harder as he achieved climax.

When it was over we were both silent for a long time. Finally he spoke. "My little rebel," he said, "are you enjoying your punishment?"

I nodded. "It is more difficult to rebel than I thought."

He smiled that devilish smile again. "You think you have learned something, do you?"

"Of course."

"But you have learned next to nothing! Your education is just beginning. The real punishment comes next."

I stared at him, astonished. "But . . ."

"Ssshhhh." He closed my lips with a finger. "Do not think about the future, the past, the present. Do not think. Just live. Be. Experience. Do not question, do not wonder, simply accept your fate. You are to be punished. You know that. You do not know the how, but that will come. You cannot change it or avoid it. Simply accept it."

And so I remained quiet and tried to forget my fears. I knew that more was to come, and it would be much, much worse. But how could it get worse? How could I be punished more thoroughly than I already had been? Only too soon I would find out.

The End

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