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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SSC: The Bad Dog 2
(*****, M/f, Intense, spanking)
A girl is spanked by her neighbor. (Approximately 488 words. Originally published 2000-08.)
The few days after my first spanking from Mr. Vidinsky I cringed every time I saw him, but he acted as though nothing had happened. He chatted with my father, brought flowers for my mother, and waved at me and told my parents I was an angel.
A week later, when I'd begun to wonder if I'd imagined the whole thing, there was a knock. It was Mr. Vidinsky again. With Sambo.
Few words were exchanged. I went and looked at the destroyed flower bed again, and then followed him into his study. This time I knew what was about to happen and I was both terrified and excited.
Once again I was wearing shorts, though a more substantial pair this time. And once again I was pulled across his lap. The spanks started, warmth coursing through my lower half. My butt felt huge and I became extremely self-conscious of that part of my body.
I also became aware that this time the spanking was hurting. He was really putting effort into each blow, and I was wiggling and finding breathing difficult.
"Ouch! Ooohhh," I moaned. "Please, Mr. Vidinsky! That hurts."
He didn't answer, just continued to spank my bottom. The warmth grew, as did my shame and embarrassment. It still didn't hurt especially bad. The denim shorts protected me, though occasionally a hard spank would make my eyes water.
How long this lasted I'll never know. It seemed like hours, but surely it was only a few minutes. Mr. Vidinsky wasn't at all in a hurry, though. He spanked me slowly and deliberately, making sure he warmed every inch of my bottom. Finally he stopped and I got up, rubbing my rear frantically.
"We aren't finished," he said.
"But--" I stared at him in distress, hand frozen in mid-rub.
"Obviously you didn't learn your lesson last time. And these pants... well, they are interfering."
Before I realized what he was doing, he was unbuttoning my shorts. As they slid down my legs I kept thinking this had to be a bad thing, and I should stop him, but I did nothing. The sensation of my shorts falling did incredible things to me. My stomach flipped, my heart pounded, my face went red, and my palms sweated. Suddenly, I wanted him to pull down my panties, too!
But he didn't. He took me over his lap and began spanking me again. This time, with just my panties to protect me, it hurt. It really hurt. I felt tears brimming in my eyes and I kicked and struggled.
Fortunately he didn't spank me for very long -- just a couple dozen swats. I wasn't even crying, at least not much.
I pulled up my shorts and ran home. My heart beat furiously with the echo of his final words: "If this happens again, young lady, I'll spank your bare bottom!"