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 8
(*****, M/f, Intense, switching)
A girl is spanked by her neighbor. (Approximately 487 words. Originally published 2000-08.)
You'd think regular spankings would get boring. They don't. Trust me on that. Every one is unique, special, and painful.
Pain, like pleasure, is impossible to describe. Oh, sure, there are words like burning, stinging, throbbing, and aching, but they don't begin to convey the complex feelings that course through a person during a hard paddling. There are the subtle emotional resonances -- overlapping fits of feeling -- where you think you want something but you don't but you do. Then there's the physical sensations, not the pain, but the situation: being naked, or nearly naked, draped ungloriously across a strong man's lap, the rough feel of the carpet against your fingers, your own weight pressing against the thighs of the man, the burning in your eyes when there are no tears left to cry.
Then there's the pain. It's engulfing, engaging, incredible. Spanking pain is unlike any other pain. It hurts, but it's a good hurt. There's warmth and comfort, and your sex is alive. Your whole body's alive for that matter -- it's a vital experience!
That said, variety is the spice of life. Mr. Vidinsky was a genius for variety. He knew just when to subtly change things. He started out slow, with just his hand, a little game of naughtiness. Then he mixed in nudity and humiliation, then the hard hairbrush and wooden paddle.
One day he suggested we go on a picnic. I hadn't been spanked in several days. I was almost disappointed at a picnic.
But I enjoyed spending time with him, so I helped him make sandwiches. We took off at about noon.
We lived at the edge of town, and behind our neighborhood was nothing but trees and hills. We hiked for an hour or so, carrying the basket between us, growing hot, hungry, and, at least for me, horny.
I wore a miniskirt I'd recently bought, and in the steep sections, I enjoyed climbing first so Mr. Vidinsky could catch glimpses of my bottom. I wore no underwear!
Mr. Vidinsky never said anything, but I caught him watching.
We ate at the top of the hill (by then it felt like a mountain). It was glorious, the most delicious meal I've ever eaten. Afterwards, we napped and lazed.
Then Mr. Vidinsky cut some branches from a sapling. The branches were thin and long, and he carefully stripped off all the twigs. Halfway through I figured out what he was doing and my blood went cold.
But I was obedient, bending over and allowing hideously intense lines of fire to be drawn across my naked rump. It was terrifying being spanked outdoors -- what if someone passed by?
The walk home was an adventure, every move sending my bottom in gyrations that tingled the sore stripes from the switching, and when I sweated, my butt burned. I felt like I'd sat on a grill!