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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(****, M/f, Intense, spanking)
A college-age girl, away from home for the first time, recollects birthday spankings from her father. (Approximately 1,267 words. Originally published 1995-10.)
I'm nineteen years old and it's my first birthday away from home. I really miss my family, and strangely enough, my father's birthday tradition.
My father is a strict disciplinarian. We were always spanked growing up, but it wasn't a big deal or anything. My brother and I were pretty good kids. I vaguely remember get spanked a lot when I was really young, but I can only distinctly remember a few spankings after the age of ten.
Except for the birthday spankings, that is. Daddy started those when I was five years old. Ten spanks for each year, delivered bare bottom across his lap with his hand. When I turned thirteen he switched to a wooden paddle, and that really hurt. (It was still in the bare across his lap.)
My brother got them too, just the same way. When other kids were talking excitedly about their 16th birthday my brother and I just looked at each other rather uncomfortably. We were glad to grow older and enjoyed the new freedoms and responsibilities, but we didn't enjoy the spanking. At least that's what I thought then.
I remember my fifteenth birthday. I wanted a party really bad and my mom said I could. I invited over lots of my friends and a number of really cute boys I liked. It was a great party, with cake and ice cream and since it was a Friday night everyone stayed late and we watched _Star_Wars_ on video and pigged out. Finally at eleven o'clock everyone had to leave and parents began arriving, picking up their kids. I remember feeling so happy as I waved good-bye and closed the door after the last guest. I'd gotten some cool presents and one of the guys I secretly liked had told Martha Peterson that he liked me. I was blushing as I thought of this when I heard my father's deep voice.
"Well, now, that was a great party, dear. I think it's now time for your birthday spanking, don't you think?"
My world just dropped out from under me. I felt this huge hole in my stomach as I thought of what was to come. I'd totally forgotten about the birthday ritual and it all came back suddenly, the weeks of dread and the horrid realization that this year I'd get 150 smacks!
I slowly followed my father up to my room and changed into my pajamas. Then I went across his lap and down came my pajama bottoms and panties. It had been almost a year since my last spanking and all I could think about was how much this was going to hurt.
Daddy patted my bottom gently and placed the paddle against my skin. The wood felt cool and hard and I knew this was going to hurt. "You know I love you, Darla, don't you?"
"I do this so that I don't have to do it throughout the year, you know that, right?"
"It's a good reminder of what will happen if you disobey."
"Are you ready?"
"This year you are fifteen, so that's 150 smacks, girl. This is going to hurt, I'm afraid, but you are becoming an adult. You can take it."
Then he spanked me hard and long. It seemed to last forever. Even though it was only ten more than last year it seemed much, much worse. That paddle just kept slamming into me and I wept and trembled and tried not to cry out or wiggle to much. I remember how incredibly depressed I was when we reached 75--we were only half done!
When it was finally over Daddy pulled my panties and pants back on and made me sit in his lap. He hugged me tightly and told me how much he loved me. He wiped away my tears and smooth my hair out of my eyes and kissed my cheek.
I always remember feeling warm and safe in his arms after his spankings, and I would hug him impossibly hard and hold on to him with all my strength, as though he could protect from his own firm hand. Strange, but back then I never realized the incongruity of it. It just seemed natural.
I remember last year's spanking. I was eighteen, a senior in high school, popular and pretty, and planning to go to college and study law. Daddy was so proud of me. "This is the last time," he whispered as he guided me across his lap. "You are an adult now and don't need this any more."
I just felt fear and dread. My face flushed terribly and I felt impossibly humiliated as he pulled down my panties, even though this had happened many times before. There was a degree of excitement and arousal and anticipation, as always, but there wasn't much pleasure about the paddling. It just hurt! And hurt and hurt and hurt! It lasted about a half hour (I looked at the clock).
I was sobbing like a baby when he finished and gathered me in his arms. He told me he loved me and talked with me a long time about my career, the future, and what kind of a person he wanted me to be. He spoke of the values he'd hoped he'd instilled in me and how good and strong a person I was. He made me feel so special and capable of accomplishing anything I set out to do. I remember falling asleep that night with a big smile on my face, my heart pounding with excitement about the future. I would make my daddy proud!
* * * * *
I look at the clock. Three o'clock in the morning! I still can't sleep. All I can think about is my father and those terrible, wonderful birthday spankings. I get out of bed and go to the window of my dorm room. It is dark and quiet outside. My roommate is sound asleep. She sleeps through earthquakes. Carefully I pick up the telephone.
"Darla! What's wrong!"
"Nothing, Daddy. I-I just wanted to talk to you. I miss you."
"Oh, honey, that's nice. I miss you too, you know. I wish you could have been here for your birthday."
"I know. You said that this morning."
"Well, you are coming home this weekend, right?"
"Good." His deep voice couldn't disguise the deep emotion he felt. It made me feel all warm inside.
"I know I'm a big girl now, and I certainly don't _need_ it, but... do you think... I mean, it won't be on my birthday or anything, but I'll be home on Friday. Could you...?" I couldn't voice what I was saying.
There was a long pause. Then I heard my father's voice, firm and confident as always, safe, secure.
"You wanting a birthday spanking, honey?"
"Yes, Daddy, please. I can't sleep."
"No problem, dear. I'll see you on Friday. Let's see... you're nineteen today, right?"
"Uhuh." My voice betrayed my nervousness.
"Good. I love you."
"I love you too, Daddy."
There was a click and the room fell silent. I slipped back into bed with a familiar pit in my stomach. Friday suddenly seemed to much closer. I shivered. What had I done? Was I crazy? All my life I couldn't wait for those spankings to end. Now here I was practically begging for one. I shook my head and leaned back onto my pillow. In seconds I was sleeping peacefully.
*** Comments on this story or series are appreciated. ***