RLS 13: The Tractor

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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 RLS Series is a collection of _real-life_ stories retold by the Flogmaster. Names and places have been _changed_ to protect the naughty. All are based on the personal memories of individuals and are written in the first person. Literary license may have been taken for a more dramatic presentation.

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The Tractor

(****, M/f, Intense, n/c strapping)

An impulsive young lady makes a big mistake trying to show off to her boyfriend--and ends up showing him how well she can take a strapping! (Approximately 3,118 words. Originally published 1995-12.)

We live on a farm, though we do little farming these days. Sure, we've got a few dairy cows and some horses, but they are mostly for our own use. I bought the farm a few years ago when some of my investments paid off big time. I really wanted my family to grow up outdoors, in a rural environment, to learn the wholesome values of middle America, and a small farm seemed to be the perfect way to do that. My grandfather had been a farmer and I had spent many summers in my childhood living with him and working.

My son loves the farm, and my daughters too, though they are a little older, and resented being moved away from their junior high right when they were starting to get interested in boys. (That was part of my incentive to move away from the city, to tell you the truth. City boys shouldn't be allowed near girls, in my opinion.) The girls soon adjusted, however, and they both love the high school here.

They have not adjusted to farm life quite as well, however. Take my oldest, Jenna. She's incorrigible. If there's a boy around she'll do anything to impress him, and I can't count the times I've had to take her to the barn for a strapping since we moved here.

Just this past week she pulled her worst stunt yet. Josh, at twelve, knows how to operate the tractor very well, though he's only allowed to do it when I'm around. The girls have been strictly forbidden to ride it until they learn how. But Jenna seemed to think this rule didn't apply to her, at least not when a boy was watching.

She came home from school last Wednesday with a neighbor boy, Tom Winkle. A good kid. His father speaks highly of him. He's on the football team but still manages to study hard and gets good grades. He and Jenna had been socializing together recently, and I approved with all the normal reservations of a father and his daughter.

Last Wednesday, however, Jenna felt like showing off to Tom. She bragged that she could ride the tractor and when he challenged her, she hopped on and started it up. Unfortunately she'd never driven the tractor before and I had no real idea how to work it. Almost from the start she was in trouble, whirling it around in the direction of the house, leaving Tom shouting after her. She was on a slight decline and the tractor picked up speed quickly, lurching down the hill. Jenna couldn't find the brake and panicked, turning the tractor slightly so it was heading right toward the house.

With my jaw dropped in horror and astonishment I watched from a field away as she plowed the tractor directly through the south wall of our house!

I raced down the path and ran inside, my heart pounding and as furious as I father can be to his daughter. Jenna was sitting on the tractor inside the ruins of the house, weeping.

"Oh, Daddy!" she cried out when she saw me. "I-I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. Oh, Daddy, please, I'm sorry!" She wailed on like this as I stared at the damage she had done. Dimly I was aware of other family members approaching and I felt my wife put her arm around me.

"Is everybody okay?" I said shakily. Everyone nodded.

"Are you okay, Jenna? You aren't hurt?" I approached the tractor and took her in my arms. For a junior in high school she suddenly seemed very small. She leaned into me and sobbed.

"I-I'm fine D-Daddy... I'm s-s-s-so s-s-s-sorrrrry," she moaned.

I patted the back of her head and walked to the couch and sat down with her still in my arms. I could see Josh and Jessica glancing at each other and at Jenna and blushing and I knew what they were thinking. Jenna was really going to get it this time. I think she knew it too. She hadn't stopped crying since the accident.

"What are we going to do, John?" asked my wife. I looked up at her and gave my best smile.

"At least no one was hurt, dear. It's not as bad as it looks," I said bravely, trying to keep everyone upbeat although I myself was rather shocked at the mess my daughter had created.

I clapped my hands together and gave out orders. "Josh, see if you can back the tractor out and then go to the garage and find that large tarp. We'll see if we can't rig up some kind of temporary wall. Jess, help your mother clean up this room. Watch out for nails and splinters. Wear gloves if you can find some." Everyone nodded and began to move.

"Jenna," I said softly, and I was aware of everyone else pausing slightly, wondering what her fate would be. My daughter looked squarely at my chest. I gently pulled her chin up until her blue tear-filled eyes looked into mine. I kissed her forehead gently and smiled at her. "Why don't you go to your room, dear. We'll take care of things out here. Everything will be okay, you'll see."

She looked up at me, eyes wide with surprise and hope. She was amazingly beautiful, with a childhood ignorance of real beauty making her completely unconscious of herself. She licked her lips and nodded, her face still a little pale. I knew the question in her mind and I knew it would be unfair to let it torment her.

"I have to take care of some things now, Jenna. I'll have to deal with you later. I'm just glad you or anyone else wasn't hurt." The soft threat in my voice brought a surge of fear to her face but she just nodded again and quickly got up off the couch and ran to her bedroom. I could hear her sobbing again. Well, at least she wouldn't wonder. I love my daughter very much and I wanted to do nothing but comfort her, but I knew she could not get away with something like this without punishment.

"It's all my fault, sir!"

I looked up and was surprised to see Tom standing in front me. He looked very serious and said, "It's all my fault, sir. I encouraged her to ride the tractor. I told her it was easy--even a girl could drive it. It's all my fault, sir. Don't punish her--it's my fault."

"That's a nice gesture, son," I said standing and shaking the boy's hand. "Very brave. But you and I both know that you didn't drive that tractor. I'm afraid Jenna will get what's coming to her. Now, why don't you run on home?"

But Tom felt guilty and wanted to help so I sent him off to help Josh with the tarp. I called his dad and told him Tom would be staying for supper. Mr. Winkle was sympathetic to our situation and offered to come and help, but I told him there wasn't that much to be done today.

"I'm calling the contractor now and we'll see what he thinks tomorrow. Hopefully it's not as bad as it looks."

I spent the rest of the afternoon making phone calls to the insurance company and the contractor, and then I helped Tom and Josh put up the tarp so the living room would have some protection from the elements. Sara was just finishing the supper preparations when we tied the last corner and we all settled down for an excellent meal of roast pork and fresh corn. But someone was missing.

"Where's Jenna?" I asked.

"Oh. She said she wasn't hungry," said Jessica.

"Well, you go tell her this is a family meal and unless she's sick with fever she's to get out here and sit at the table like everyone else. If she doesn't want to eat she doesn't have to, but she'll join us at the table like a civilized person."

Jessica nodded and ran off and a moment later she returned, a rather meek-looking Jenna following. She'd changed from her long country dress to a pair of well-worn jeans and a modest T-shirt, and her hair was a mess and her face very red, but she was presentable. She was horrified to see that Tom was eating with us and stopped in her tracks and blushed furiously, but I patted the chair next to me and she quickly came and sat down.

"Good," I said pleasantly. "Now, Jenna, why don't you say grace?" Jenna looked at me with pleading eyes but I just bowed my head and with a quivering voice Jenna asked the Lord to bless our meal and again thanked Him that no one had been injured in the "accident."

"Amen," I said, and we all fell to eating. We were all hungry from the tension and excitement and work of the afternoon and the food was fabulous. Tom earned a place in Sara's heart by telling her confidentially that she was a better cook than his mom, and even Jessica asked for seconds. The only fly in the ointment was a rather quiet and sullen Jenna, who only picked at her food and blushed every time someone looked at her.

After the meal we sat and talked a bit, and I told everyone what the contractor had said. He'd have to look at it, of course, but from my description he seemed to think that the tractor hadn't broken any major supports and the wall could be repaired in about a week, perhaps two at most. Since the fall rains weren't scheduled for another month things didn't look too bad. By the time we'd eaten the ice cream for desert everyone (except Jenna) was smiling and laughing and there were even a couple of sly jokes about the whole thing. I could see Sara still wasn't very amused by the event, but I was starting to see the humor in the situation.

At about eight o'clock Tom got up to go. "If you'll excuse me, Mr. Templton, I really must be getting home. I've got chores to do and my father will be worried. Thanks for a wonderful mean, Mrs. Templton. Really wonderful."

"Hold on a bit, Tom," I said firmly. "Your father's having Johnny do your chores so there's no rush. I told him you were helping out here."

"Oh, thank you, sir."

"Yes. I think we have one bit of unfinished business left tonight I'd appreciate your help with, if you don't mind."

"Certainly, sir. Anything."

"Good. Jenna?" The whole house froze, everyone turning to look at her. She turned beet red and shrank in her seat. "Would you meet us outside in the barn, please?" My daughter turned as white as ghost (quite a dramatic change from her reddness) and got up and stiffly walked outside, tears welling in her eyes. Her brother said something to Jessica and she giggled, but went silent when I glared at her.

"Something funny, Jess?"

"No, sir."

"Good. Now help you mother with the dishes. Don't you have some homework, Josh?"

"Uh, no, well, yes, sure."

"Get to it then!" I watched my son scurry to his room and I nodded to Tom. He was looking at me rather strangely, a little nervously, wondering what was going to happen. He followed me outside and to the barn.

The light was on inside, little Jenna sitting on a milking stood near one of the horses and feeding and petting it. She looked up in horror when we entered, her eyes going from Tom to me in an obvious question. She had no doubts about what she was in here for, but Tom confused her. I decided to be merciful and get this part over with quickly.

"Jenna," I said sternly, "come over here." She obeyed though I could see every part of her wanted to run the other way. She stood silently in front of me, her eyes already red from crying and fear. Tom looked at me in surprise and wonder.

"Jenna, you have a problem with attention. I know you like Tom and you want him to like you, but you cannot engage in silly and reckless behavior simply to impress a boy you are interested in!" Jenna bowed her head and blushed deeply.

"Look at me, girl!" Her head snapped back up. "Now since you like to show off so much in front of boys, Jenna, I'm going to give you ten with the strap right here and Tom is going to watch!"

The girl gasped, blood draining from her face. Tom appeared nervous and he started to protest. "Shut up, Tom," I ordered. "This is for her benefit, not yours. If you really want a lickin', go ask your father for one. I'm sure he'll be glad to oblidge." Tom flushed and looked at the ground.

"Okay, Jenna, over to the post." She quickly stepped over to the one of the main support posts, and standing a couple of feet in front of it, bent forward and stretched her arms out to the post, her back making a forty-five degree angle and thrusting out her rump. Her legs were pressed tightly together.

"Ten, Jenna," I said sternly. "Why don't you count them outloud?" She began to cry. I went and took down the heavy leather strap from the nail above her head and went behind her, standing a little to one side. I make sure Tom could get a clear view.

Wack! The strap smacked my daughter's pert bottom soundly, and she yelped and jumped convincingly, but I seriously doubt she felt much through her thick jeans. "O-One," she breathed, and I gave her another. By the time I'd gotten to five her voice had a slightly different tone to it, a little protest, perhaps, and I knew I was finally getting through her jeans. By eight she was crying, and she let out a cry at nine. After ten she began to sob, most likely with relief, and I turned to Tom.

"Okay, Tom, you may go home." He nodded and started to leave. "Don't forget to ask your pa for that whuppin'!" I called after him and I saw Jenna wince. I approached her and smiled.

"That was a good performance, dear. You really make it seem like it hurt."

"B-B-But it *did* hurt, Daddy." she moaned.

"Psshaw!" I spat. "We haven't even started yet. I doubt you could feel a branding iron through those thick jeans of yours, let alone my feeble strap. Now drop your pants like a good girl and bare that bottom for a proper lickin'!"

Crying, the girl did as she was told, and indeed I saw her bottom was barely red. There were one of two red marks, but most of her butt was milky-white skin just waiting for my strap.

"I suppose you understand why we are doing this?"

"Yes, Daddy. I rode the tractor without permission."

"Exactly. And for a foolish reason, at that. Just to impress a boy! That's why I whipped you in front of him, Jenna. You think he's impressed with you now?"

She began to really cry again when I said that and I smiled to myself. Actually, Tom was *very* impressed with her, if I wasn't mistaken about that bulge in his pants. Nothing turns a guy on like the thought of a beautiful, innocent girl behaving naughtily and getting her bottom spanked for it.

But Jenna didn't know that. She felt humiliated by Tom watching her and I knew she'd think she could never face him again. Good. He'd have a nice little challenge trying to get _her_ to open up to him, much better than Jenna flaunting herself all over school trying to get his attention.

Without much more conversation I whipped my daughter soundly, thrashing the pretty pale flesh of her bottom and thighs until it was a deep pink and then a dark red. She wept and moaned and carried on but stood in position like the adult she was becoming. I felt sorry for her, but I knew she needed a severe lesson. She was becoming an adult and adults held grave responsibilities.

"You could have killed someone with that tractor," I scolded. "What if your mother had been sitting by that wall?" Jenna wailed and sobbed and I licked her some more, not really hurting her, but just aggravating the already punished flesh. "You could have hurt yourself, too!" I spanked her some more and then finally stopped and watched her standing there, panting, sweat covering her body, the reddened flesh of her buttocks and thighs quivering and trembling as she stood there.

"Alright, Jenna, that's enough for tonight. I want you to understand the seriousness of this offense, though. You are grounded for the rest of the month--no TV, no dates, no allowance. You will do your brother's and sister's chores all next week too, in addition to your own. And we will have another session in the barn just like this on Saturday, to really let this lesson sink in."

"Oh, Daddy, please," she begged me, throwing her arms around me, her panties and jeans still gathered around her ankles. "I'm sorry, so sorry, I didn't mean to do it! I never thought I would hurt anyone, I'm sorry!"

She wept and hugged me and I kissed her head and caressed her long blonde hair. "Sssshhh," I whispered gently. "It's okay, dear. I understand. But you have to learn to think before you act. There are always consequences to everything you do, even if you do nothing. An adult knows how to manage responsibility by understanding those consequences and behaving accordingly. You can't just impulsively run and do something because a boy is watching."

"I know, Daddy. I'm sorry, I *really* am. I'll never do anything like that again, ever!"

My heart went out to my little girl making promises like that. She certainly is a sweet thing, and she tries hard. She'll grow up fine. But if she thinks begging's going to get me to forget Saturday's whipping she's got another think coming. It won't be as severe, but she doesn't know that. I'll let her sweat it for the next few days.

"Okay, dear. Get dressed and come back to the house. And don't forget we'll be back here on Saturday."

My little girl began to cry again as she pulled up her panties and jeans, wincing at the tightness. Saturday! Suddenly that seemed far too soon...

The End

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