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, Severe, nc paddling, belting, switching)
A father finally takes his rebellious daughter in hand. (Approximately 2,059 words. Originally published 2006-05.)
In retrospect it was obvious I'd let my daughter take advantage of me, but at the time I was blind. My wife and I split when Jenna was nine and though I stayed involved in her life, I let Karen handle the disciplinary responsibilities. That turned out to be a massive mistake as Karen, for whatever reasons of her own, allowed the girl too many liberties. Jenna grew up with total freedom and became, essentially, a spoiled brat.
Of course there were warning signs, but I conveniently ignored them, and then one day the two-by-four hit me across the noggin and I had to get involved.
Jenna was seventeen and staying at my house for a couple months during the summer while her mother was off on a cruise with her new boyfriend, a _doctor_. Well, he was only a plastic surgeon to me, but Karen insisted on pointing out his credentials. Jenna and I hadn't been getting along too well but we reluctantly agreed to the stay.
Things went well for the first couple weeks, then one afternoon I got off work earlier than expected and returned home. The house was quiet and I figured Jenna was in her room. She was still grounded for that unauthorized party incident at her mother's so I knew she couldn't have gone anywhere. I'd just gotten a nice bonus from a pleased client and thought I'd share the good news with Jenna and see if she'd like to go celebrate with a fancy dinner at a good restaurant in town.
Though I usually knock, this time I just opened her door without thinking -- it was my house after all -- and got the shock of my life. My sweet little girl wasn't alone. A skinny boy with jet black hair and tattoos of dragons and flowers down his back looked back at me with a silver ring glinting in his nose. All I saw was that he was naked and *perched* on my daughter.
"What the fu--!" I cried, bitting off my curse with a lunging swing.
"Eeeee!" screamed the kid, leaping off Jenna, who I saw with horror was equally nude and screaming just as loud.
"Dad, don't hurt him!" she yelled, sitting up in bed and scrambling for sheets to cover her nudity.
Her cries distracted me just enough, for I glanced at her, and when I looked back at him, all I saw was his skinny white ass mooning me as he climbed out the window. He'd tossed out his pants and shirt first and when I looked out, he'd was running across the lawn bare ass naked holding his clothes.
"Goddamn chicken!" I muttered, then turned to my daughter. "Who the hell was that!"
"None of your business."
"Don't you give me no fuckin' lip, little girl--"
"I'm not a little girl!"
"Oh yeah? Last time I checked you're still a minor and that means when you're in my house you follow my rules and you _know_ no boys are allowed... what the hell?"
My eyes spotted the distinctive cigarettes on the bedside table even as my nostrils confirmed it. "That's pot!" I snapped. "Oh young lady, you are in sooo much trouble!"
That's when Jenna did the worst thing she could have done. I was already furious, wondering how my innocent little girl had ended up like this, my brain starting to compile a list of all of Jenna's recent sins, when she *rolled her eyes at me.*
Yup. That was the two-by-four. It caught me right between the eyes. Next thing I knew I was dragging that girl, naked as the day she was born, into the living room. She was making a fuss and a decent feign at modesty, but I wasn't fooled. The scene with the nude boy had been too comfortable to be her first time: I had to face the fact that my little girl was a slut.
"Dad, what the hell are you doing? I'm already grounded, so you can't--"
"Oh we're way past grounding."
"Huh? So what are... what's that?"
I could hear the slight alarm in her voice when she I was taking down my old fraternity paddle from its place above the mantle. "This is something I should have done a long time ago," I growled. "Now turn around."
I half-pushed Jenna onto the couch and she sprawled awkwardly, but now that she was the focus of my attention, I truly noticed her nude body for the first time. She's a small girl, very pretty with wide inquisitive eyes and a beautiful smile, and in a vague, not-really-thought-about-it way I knew she was gorgeous, but I hadn't seen her naked since she was a child. Suddenly before me I saw a young woman. She had breasts! She had hips! Her waist was narrow, with hips flaring wide like an adult female. Her ass was, I have to admit, amazing. For such a petite girl it was round and full, with an impressive cleft between the twin cheeks. Her skin was flawless, smooth and pale, the color of creamy butter, and suddenly I had a vision of bright red buttocks and I knew there was no going back. I would do exactly what I had impulsively started.
Jenna was on her knees on the sofa, her back arched as she turned her head back toward me in puzzlement. I pushed her forward so her arms went over the back of the sofa and I took advantage of the prominently presented target, the plump curves of her bent ass. The big frat paddle dwarfed her petite butt and caught every inch of flesh with a resounding _Smack!_
"Yiyayiyayiaayyy!" screamed Jenna, probably just as much in surprise as actual pain.
The wooden board seemed to leap off her proud bottom, springing away and leaving a giant red blotch in its wake. Jenna tried to get up, but I pinned her with my left hand in her back and whacked the paddle across those buns again, a little harder this time. Jenna's cries doubled in volume.
It wasn't until after the third horrendous whack -- the cheeks already a sizzling lava color -- that Jenna's vocalizations began to form actual words and sentences. Even then it took a moment for them to crystalize. First I heard grunts and exclamations like "Oh! No! Stop! Ouch!" and nonsensicals like "You can't!" and "Oh my God" and "Oh fuck me that hurts!" All this blurred together and came out as though spewed from a blender.
The fourth smack jarred some sense and I guess Jenna realized she was getting spanked and she began to plead for mercy. "Oh please, Daddy, no more! Ah! Oh! Ouch, I'm sorry, I really really am! Oh! Ah, no more, no more! Please! Ah!"
I ignored her and concentrated on roasting that little rump with more hearty whacks with that big paddle. It was a heavy instrument and each blow did considerable damage. I stopped after just ten as Jenna's butt was carmine and looked like raw hamburger. I remembered that back in my fraternity days we had to be careful how the paddle was used as serious injury could result if it wasn't used cautiously.
"Oh, are we done? Oh thank you, Daddy. God that hurt! Oh, my poor ass! It's on fire! I'll be sooo good, Daddy, you'll see. I'll never--"
"Oh! I'm sorry Daddy I--"
"SHUT. UP." This time Jenna obeyed, her eyes going huge with horror as she saw I was taking off my leather belt. "We aren't done."
"Oh no! Daddy, no! Please! I told you I'm sorry, I'll never do it again, I swear!"
"Get your ass over the back of that sofa and prepare to take your whipping."
"NO!!!" Jenna was practically delirious with fear, so I had to guide her into the correct position, but the first lash of that heavy belt across her blistered bottom made her scream and writhe out of position.
We tried it again. I wrestled her into the correct pose, ass nicely curved and presented, and lashed the cheeks with the belt, with the same result.
After the third time I was getting annoyed. "Look here, Jenna, you are gonna take your whipping. I'm gonna give you a dozen with my belt and I'm not counting when you get out of position, so we haven't even started yet. This is gonna get over with a lot sooner if you hurry up and cooperate."
"But it HURTS!" cried my daughter, her emphasis on the pain almost making me laugh.
"I should hope so. That's the whole point: you're supposed to remember this pain and not misbehave in the future."
Somehow, over the next twenty-three minutes, Jenna learned to take a whipping. She was a bit of a slow learner. She earned closer to two dozen strokes with my belt instead of the dozen I had planned, but they did her good. When we finished, her butt was a beautiful mess of crimson blotches and purplish welts. A few red streaks decorated her creamy thighs as well.
"Ohhhh!" moaned Jenna, squeezing her buttocks and rocking on her heels. "Please tell me we're done!"
"Not even close. Not for your kind of naughtiness. You've got years of behavior to atone for, young lady."
Jenna began to cry at this news. "Oh please, Daddy, I've learned my lesson, I have, I swear I have!"
"We'll see. After your switching."
Of course Jenna's education had been neglected; she didn't even know what a switch was. But she did stay in position on the sofa while I fetched a couple, cutting nice long ones from the peach tree in my back yard.
Unfortunately, her cooperation ended right after that first blistering stripe with the thin rod. Her shrieks nearly shattered the windows and she promptly sat on her hands and refused to turn over for more switch stripes.
She was shaking her head and babbling and it took me a long time and lot of threats to get her to finally show me her bottom. "Just six," I explained. "Just take six stripes obediently and your punishment will be over."
She tried, I will give her that. It was probably the first hard thing she had to do in her life. But it took nine stripes to finish her whipping. I placed six across her bottom, three down low where they really hurt, and three across the backs of her thighs. She had only herself to blame for the extras. I refused to feel sorry for her.
Afterward, I made her stand in the corner for an hour with no touching her tingling bottom. I wanted her to really felt the results of her naughty behavior and I think that corner pondering really taught her some profound lessons.
She came to dinner (I'd decided to thaw some steaks and eat at home) meek as a lamb and smiled with gratitude at the soft pillow I'd placed on her chair. She was a little subdued at first, but quickly melted, and soon I realized that all of her routine rude teenage remarks had vanished and she was a genuinely sweet girl again. Amazing what a hot bottom will do to motivate behavior!
Of course one such lesson was not enough; I had to spank Jenna twice more during her stay with me that summer. Both were much less severe and she cooperated as best she could when the consequences were explained. She hated the paddle and the belt, but the switch was the worst: she actually tried to barter belt strokes for switch cuts, but I didn't go for her two-for-one offer. Six of each was "standard" punishment, with blows that caused her to get out of position not counting. Her second spanking was eight, seven, and ten, respectively, but by her third she managed seven, six, and eight.
I've explained to her that we'll continue her lessons whenever she stays with me and that with regular practice she'll eventually be able to take all three implements with no extras; she's not exactly enthusiastic at the prospect, but unless I'm blind, I'm pretty sure I detected a hint of pride in her demeanor.
I'm certainly proud of her. She's turning into a beautiful young woman!