How does a girl still in her teens become a devoted slave to a domineering, cruel, sadistic male master? Betty Jane tells her story to Kenneth Harding in this unusual, intimately told tale of her life as a happily submissive and obedient subject. Humiliation only feeds her passionate nature, and pain and punishment heighten her enjoyment of sexual pleasures if she is allowed to have them. Even though she may be bound and unable to achieve sexual orgasm through intercourse or autoerotic methods, this degrading position offers some satisfaction to her strange appetites. Betty Jane is a true sex slave in every sense of the word-she will do noting without her master's permission, yet she will do ANYTHING he demands. She indeed begs him to shape her life to his own liking and will be totally obedient whatever the consequences.
CHAPTER ONE
My name is Betty Jane S. I'm nineteen years old, and until six months ago, I lived in a little farm town in North Dakota not far from Bismarck. David, who is my husband now, as well as my master, knows most of my story, and it is at his command, in fact, that I'm writing what you might call my memoirs.
Indeed, as I sit now in the den of our high-rise apartment in the heart of Chicago's North Side, I am constantly reminded that I am not only David's wife and partner, but also his humble and extremely obedient little slave girl. I have on high-heeled red leather pumps, a pair of very filmy and extremely scanty black nylon briefs, a bra of the same material which shows off half of my titties, and a big blue ribbon bow tied to one of my two pigtail-braids which hang down to the middle of my back. David-likes me this way because, as he explains, "There is nothing more exciting for a dominant male than to have a mature young woman dressed or made up like a little girl who is constantly awaiting a good sound spanking on her naked bottom to teach her the meaning of true discipline." And just thinking about what David says, right now, makes me squirm in the chair and feel a hot, almost painful tickling between my legs. My ankles are locked to the legs of a chair with special nickel-plated bracelets which David himself made in the workshop in our building basement. It's a great big storage room and he has his tools set up there and a working bench, acetylene torch and other things to use in making bondage and restraining and punishment devices to be used on yours truly. Sometimes, when I'm very naughty and around vacation time when most of the tenants in the building are away, he takes me down there and ties me up and blindfolds me and punishes me-but I'm getting ahead of my story.
My daddy was a pretty good farmer, if I do say so myself and he and Mom were as kind and loving as you could ever expect parents to be. I had a little brother who died of whooping cough when he was only about sixteen months old, and then Mom had Holly and Thelma a year apart. So I grew up with my two younger sisters, and everything was rosy until I turned fifteen. And then it all started. Yet, looking back now, I'm happy it did, because otherwise I never would have met David and been his loving, submissive and oh so obedient Utile slave girl!
Daddy had gone into Bismarck to buy a new tractor, and he drove back at night and some college kid who had had one too many was on the wrong side of the road and crashed right into him, and so we three kids didn't have a father anymore. Mom was terribly upset and grieved for about six months, and then all of a sudden, without any warning to any of us, up and married Mr. Sturgis.
Maybe I ought to dedicate my book to him, in a way, because Mr. Sturgis was the one who gave me my first bare-bottom licking and let me find out what a thrill I got out of being spanked. Oh, oh, David just made a sign to me signifying that after I've finished telling you this episode, I'm in for it. He says I'm rambling too much and wasting your time, so by the next time you come to take notes on what I'm telling you about what happened to me, I'll be better able to toe the mark-that's what David says, and he knows just how to make me do it. No, don't feel sorry for me or anything like that. As you'll find out, just the thought of having a spanking in store for me makes the most lovely tingling feelings go up and down my spine and I squirm on my seat and I feel how tender the skin on my bottom is and I think what's going to happen to it after you've gone, and I almost want, to faint-yes, master, I'll get on with it, I'm sorry!
Anyhow, like I say, I was fifteen and maybe four months when Mom married Timothy Sturgis, and she was about thirty-five then. He was at least ten years older, though she never did tell me his age, and he was very stern and quiet. I guess maybe that was a good way to be for the work he did, because he was the personnel manager of a big department store in Bismarck.
We three kids weren't so sure we liked the idea of Mom's getting married again, especially to Mr. Sturgis. Daddy had been just the opposite, always smiling, cracking a joke, and he always brought little presents for us when he came back from town. But
Mr. Sturgis said right away to Mom, on the afternoon before the day they got married, that he thought children could be spoiled by too much attention and that they must learn to be self-reliant and obedient. He looked at me most of all when he said that, and I blushed and squirmed a little. You see, up till then, I'd never in my life had a spanking. I didn't even know what it was. When I did anything wrong, the worst that happened was that Daddy would maybe give me a little slap on the arm and then in a nice way tell me what I had done wrong and why I shouldn't do it again. I know it worked for me, and my school grades were always respectable, and I never did get into any trouble.
Holly was thirteen and Thelma just a couple of years younger when we got our new father, and when we stood up in church in the pews and watched Mom standing at the altar rail beside Mr. Sturgis, our hearts just about sank.
Mom really looked beautiful in her wedding gown. Of course, it wasn't white, but her blonde hair was done up in a very pretty, youthful bob and she always did have a lovely figure. She looked about ten years younger standing there, and he was beside her not even cracking a smile and looking very gloomy, as if it were a funeral and not a wedding. Right then and there I knew our lives were going to be changed, and oh, how they were!
I remember that evening we drove into Bismarck and had a wedding supper at the best restaurant. Holly, who has red hair and freckles, has always had a sort of tomboyish personality, and she tried to make things less serious by acting up like a grown woman and asking if she could have certain things on the menu. Mr. Sturgis just gave her a look and said to the waitress, "I'll do the ordering for the family, Miss, if you please," and then he turned to Holly, after the waitress had gone, and said, "From now on, young lady, you're going to learn manners when you're out in public with your mother and me. And that goes for all three of you, for that matter. But we'll talk more about that in a few days, after I'm more settled."
He gave Mom a glance then, and I happened to see that she blushed and lowered her eyes; it was as if she was a little girl and scared of him, just as I was beginning to be. Tha.t was the foretaste of what our lives were going to be like, but even I wasn't prepared for what really happened. And now I think that's all for this session, Mr. Harding. David is making signs to me, and I have to go get his supper. I'll have to wait for mine until after he's eaten and then decides just how soon he's going to give me my punishment for rambling on like this, you know. After that, I'll get to eat supper and I'll do it while I'm doing the dishes so I can hurry and get back to David. He says he wants his wife to be with him all the time at night, because that's a wife's place, beside her husband-if it isn't over his lap or tied up for a good sound spanking. So we'll go on with this tomorrow afternoon, if it's all right with you.
CHAPTER TWO
You'll have to excuse me this afternoon, Mr. Harding, if I seem sort of restless. You know. David really gave me a good hot bottom-smacking after you left yesterday, and he scolded me for going all around Robin Hood's barn when I was telling about what happened to me when I was just growing up. I had to go into his den after I'd taken a shower, and I was wearing my special spanking outfit of blue rompers and a little sleeveless white silk blouse and sandals and blue bobby socks, and I'd put on a shower cap so my ribbon bow wouldn't get wet.
David was waiting for me in the armchair, and I got down on my knees the minute I got in the door and crawled to him and clasped my hands together to beg his pardon for being naughty.
After he had nodded to me, I asked him please to give me a good sound spanking on my bare bottom with the hairbrush, and he told me he would and that I was to bring it with the handle in my teeth.
He had put the hairbrush up on a pile of tape recordings on the third shelf of the big bookcase, so I had to get the little stepladder and stand almost on top of it, then reach for the hairbrush with my teeth and come back down the stepladder very carefully. He's done that before and whenever I drop it or take too long getting it for him, it means extra punishment.
I managed it this time, and then I got down on my knees again and came over to him and offered him the hairbrush. When he took it, it was the signal for me to stand up at his right, slip down my rompers to my calves, and then get right over his lap with my palms down on the floor and my head bowed down as far as I could.
He stroked my bare bottom for a few minutes and lectured me about this and that, and mostly about not taking up too much of your time telling you this story, and then he asked me if I was ready, and he told me he was going to give me twenty warm-up spanks with his hand. I had to count out every one and say thank you for them.
After that, I had to count out thirty-five from the hairbrush, and I missed a few because I was crying and begging him to stop and promising to be a very good girl from now on. When it was over, I had to get down on my knees, kiss the hairbrush and his hand and thank him for spanking me.
Then my rompers came off and were left draped over the chair while I went to prepare supper for him.
I had to bring it and serve it on my knees on a tray, and kneel there beside his chair while he ate, in case he wanted any other kind of service. When he was finished, I took the tray back and did the dishes, and only then was I given my own meal. Nor did I take very much time at it, because David is a very demanding and affectionate husband, as you may gather.
But enough of that, because I don't want David to sentence me to another such punishment only twenty-four hours later. By the way, he told me to tell you just how I got it yesterday.
Let's see, where was I? Oh yes, about Mr. Sturgis' telling Holly that thereafter things were going to be different. And they certainly were! For the next two or three days after the wedding, we didn't see much of either Mom or our new stepfather.
What surprised us was that they didn't go away on a honeymoon. The farm was being sold, with the money to go into Mom's bank account when it finally went through, and in the meantime we had all moved over to live with our new stepfather in a pretty little two-story house on the northwest side of Bismarck.
Mom and Mr. Sturgis lived downstairs, and the three of us had separate rooms upstairs. About the third day, when we came down for supper, Mr. Sturgis cleared his throat after saying grace, and then told us that he understood that we couldn't accept and love him as we had done our own father, but that it was his job to see that we weren't spoiled and had the right kind of discipline.
"You mother has told me a good deal about each one of you girls," he went on, "I work with people all day long and try to correct their faults so they can give better service, and I'm going to apply the same rules of conduct right here at home. For instance, you, Betty Jane," and his cold blue eyes fixed on me for quite some time and made me shiver, "are very untidy with your clothes. Your mother says that you put freshly ironed dresses into a drawer as if they were dishrags.
"That has to stop. You, Holly, are inclined to be impertinent and even sarcastic at times to your mother. That I will not tolerate to her, any more than I will to myself. Parents are worthy of respect, and we will both insist upon it from now on. As for you, Thelma, you're always eating sweets between meals, even though your mother tells you not to. That's why you weigh just a little more than you should at your young age. Also you're lackadaisical in school, from what I've heard about your report cards."
The three of us exchanged an unhappy look, because we knew that this was going to be an entirely different kind of regime. But what surprised us most was that Mom didn't once speak up to defend us. She just sat there looking at him as if he were the lord of all creation, and she would nod every so often and then give us a look and nod again, as if to say we'd better listen and take heed.
I know all three of us thought about the warning, but it was poor Holly who was the very first one to make Mr. Sturgis mad enough to spank her. I think it was on a Saturday, a couple of days after he had told us what was going to be what, and Mom had asked her to go run an errand at the store. If I remember correctly, Mom found she was out of bread, and needed an extra loaf. Holly had counted on going out to play with her girlfriend Joan from next door, and she stamped her foot and said, "Aw, Mom, I don't want to!"
"Now don't give me any back talk, young lady. You just run over there right now and bring back two loaves, do you hear me?" Mom told her in a real huffy tone of voice. Holly stamped her foot again, grumbled something, and then went off to do it. Now usually, in the old days, Mom would just have bawled her out in front of us girls and got her feeling real ashamed of herself. But that wasn't the way it was going to be on this Saturday evening.
Nothing at all about her impertinence was said throughout the meal, but when Mr. Sturgis finished his last cup of coffee, he wiped his thin mouth very tidily with the napkin, looked at Holly and said, "Your mother tells me you were impertinent to her twice this afternoon, Holly. I'm afraid I'm going to have to punish you, young lady. And you, Betty Jane, as the oldest, and you, Thelma, as the youngest, are going to watch just so you will both have an idea that I mean business when I talk about proper discipline in this house. Come along, now."
"Wha-what are you gonna do to me, Mr. Sturgis?" my red-haired, irrepressible sister wanted to know, looking over at Mom for help. But Mom's lips were tight and she just said, "You do what your father tells you to."
And Holly broke out, "But he isn't my father, and I don't like him, and I won't ever call him Daddy, so there!"
Mr. Sturgis looked as mad as a wet hen when she came out with that, and I was really sorry for her and glad I wasn't going to be in her shoes, you can just bet. He walked over to her, grabbed her wrist and said, "Just come along with me, Holly."
I guess by then Holly had a pretty fair notion that she had gone just a little bit too far, so she went along with Mr. Sturgis, but she was looking back and calling out to Mom, "What's he going to do, Mom? I can't help it if I don't like it, can I?" And Mom didn't answer.
He led the way into Mom's bedroom and the first thing I saw lying in the middle of the bed was a big old fashioned wooden hairbrush, black and dreadful-looking, with sharp, thick bristles. I stared at it and then I said to myself, "Oh my gosh, he's going to spank Holly with that!"
Mom closed the bedroom door, and Mr. Sturgis led Holly over to the edge of the bed, seated himself on it, and then pulled her across his lap.
"Mom! What's he gonna do? I didn't do anything-I didn't mean it-don't let him hurt me-don't let him punish me-please don't!" And then she turned her face to look up at him and wailed, "I hate you, I wish you hadn't ever married Mom!"
"I am not the least concerned with your feelings for me, Holly," he said very coldly as he tucked his left arm around her slim waist. "What does concern me is your absolute impertinence and defiance to your mother. I have her full permission to give you what apparently you have been needing for quite some little time."
Holly must have seen the hairbrush and finally guessed what was going to happen, for she began to kick and try to jerk herself off Mr. Sturgis's lap. He just looked calmly and said, "Edith, you'd better hold her wrists and hold them very tight."
"Yes, Timothy," Mom said in a very meek voice. She hurried over to the bed and sat down on the very edge, facing poor Holly, grabbed hold of Holly's wrists, and then Mr. Sturgis, to our utter surprise, pulled up Holly's little skirt and petticoat and began to take down her white cotton panties.
"Oh no! Don't let him do it to me-why is he taking my panties down-oh no, Mom, don't let him do it-I don't want him to see me bare-oh please no!" my red-haired sister was crying now and kicking her legs wildly about.
It didn't do any good. Mr. Sturgis dragged her panties down to her knees, took a tighter hold of her waist with his left arm, and then reached for the hairbrush. Thelma and I were staring at Holly's bottom. It was the first naked bottom I'd ever seen, except my own, of course, and it was already pretty well developed for her age, with oval cheeks, very jouncy. She had pale white skin and there were tiny little rosy flecks in it. He lifted the hairbrush up and brought it down with a crisp Smack! on the right cheek of her bottom, and Holly screamed, "Ooohhh! Oh Mommie, it hurts, it hurts, don't let him spank me, don't let him! I'll be good!"
But Mom didn't say anything. The hairbrush came down on Holly's other cheek, and her body jerked up, and Thelma and I could see the bright red marks it had left on her pretty bare bottom. She was kicking her legs so wildly now that Mr. Sturgis stopped and looked over at Thelma. "Come over here, Thelma, and hold your sister's ankles," he ordered.
"Oh Mommie, oh Mommie, it hurts me! Please, I don't want him to spank me! Oh please, at least pull up my panties-oh Mommie, I don't want him to see me bare!" Holly kept wailing.
Thelma was very pale and shivering as she took hold of her sister's ankles, and I was standing there feeling my legs turn to jelly as I felt him staring at me while he waited for Thelma to come and help hold poor Holly down.
Then he began to spank again, and poor Holly couldn't get loose no matter how she bucked and weaved and twisted. She was yelling out every time the hairbrush cracked down on her bottom. He didn't spank fast, but he certainly spanked hard.
I counted up to about thirty before he stopped. He kept the hairbrush pressed right over the crease of her bottom while she was sobbing and twisting and squirming all over, and her bottom was just terribly red and swollen. Her face was swollen and screwed up and wet with tears, and Mr. Sturgis waited until she had stopped crying a little and then he said: "I'm sorry I had to be so harsh with you, Holly, but I have found from experience that this is the best lesson a naughty girl can get. I trust it will not be necessary to repeat it. Now, you apologize to your mother for being so rude to her."
Holly did, choking on her sobs. Then Mr. Sturgis himself pulled up her panties, set her on her feet and told her to go right to her room and go to bed.
Then he looked at us and said, "I hope neither of you girls will forget what you have just seen. And as I have said before, your mother and I have agreed that for exceptional naughtiness, this is the sort of punishment you may look forward to. Now you may kiss your mother goodnight and go to your rooms."
The one thing I will say about Mr. Sturgis at that point was that he hadn't given Holly any extra punishment for saying that she hated him and refusing to call him Daddy. That was to come later. A lot of things were to come later. And I'll tell you about them the next time you come over here to take notes.
CHAPTER THREE
Well, Mr. Harding, Their and I were just about speechless when we wit back to our rooms after watching poor Holly get her first bare-bottom spanking. We didn't dare talk much, because I know that I was scared he might come upstairs and find us and think it was time I got my first bottom-warming.
But I know Thelma did say in a tiny, scared voice, "Oh gosh, Betty Jane, isn't it awful now? Why ever did Mommie have to go and marry that nasty man?" I couldn't for the life of me answer her question then, but I sure found out later!
And yet I have to confess right here and now, Mr. Harding, that when I went to bed, I couldn't sleep.
All I could see was poor Holly lying over Mr. Sturgis' lap with her bare heinie sticking up and jumping and wriggling around as he kept spanking her, and all of a sudden, the next thing I knew, I had pulled my pajama bottoms down to my knees and I was playing with my pussy.
I'd started doing that when I was about Holly's age, as far as I can remember back, but I used to do it only when I was awfully scared or like maybe there was a storm or I just felt all nervous and tingly and couldn't get to sleep. But now, still seeing Holly's bare heinie getting all red and hearing her beg him for mercy, got me all hot and squirmy.
I was tickling the lips of my pussy until all of a sudden I had to put my other hand over my mouth to keep from calling out, because I was squirming and thrashing around and feeling my pussy get all moist. I rolled over on my tummy, and then I fell fast asleep.
Well, a whole week went by before anything else happened, but all three of us girls were mighty worried about what was going on. And Thelma and I tried sort of to make it up to poor Holly because she'd been the first victim, as you might say, of Mr. Sturgis by being extra special nice to her and generally minding our P's and Q's.
It was on a Sunday afternoon that poor little Thelma ran afoul of the new disciplinary code, as you might call it. I remember that Holly had come down with a sudden case of the sniffles and the doctor had told her to stay in bed and that was where she was. So it was just myself that watched Thelma get her first bare-bottom paddling.
I personally thought that Thelma could be the prettiest of us girls if only she would stop eating between meals and take a little more care with her hair and her fingernails. But I guess at twelve you don't begin to notice boys much, although it wasn't much later than that that I found out that girls interested boys and vice versa.
Anyway, Thelma had decided she wanted to listen to a rock concert on the radio and she had it booming pretty loud in her room. Mom, I guess, was taking a nap, and I don't know where Mr. Sturgis was, but all of a sudden I heard a door slam and then footsteps were hurrying up the stairs to our rooms and Mr. Sturgis was banging on Thelma's door and yelling, "You open that door at once, young lady! I want to talk to you."
I was attracted by the noise, so I peeked out, and the minute he saw me, he snapped, "You come here too, Betty Jane! Your youngest sister is going to get a lesson right now. The very idea, blasting that radio all over the house, so your mother can't sleep!"
Thelma had added fuel to the fire by locking her door, and she finally decided to open it. She had also turned down the radio, but Mr. Sturgis wasn't ready to accept that sign of obedience as a way out of the spanking he intended to give her.
"Why did you have your door locked in this house, young lady?" was the next thing he wanted to know.
"I don't know-I just did it, I guess," Thelma said innocently, those big eyes of her real wide.
"Are you trying to be sarcastic, Thelma?" was his next question.
"Oh no, sir. I don't ever do that. I know I had it maybe a little too loud, but I like rock'n'roll and this was one of the top groups-"
"I'm not the least bit interested in that kind of music, if you can call it that," Mr. Sturgis interrupted, and his lips were very tight and his eyes were narrowed, and I already began to feel a Utile weak in the knees for poor Thelma. "And I say you're being impertinent and sarcastic. One of these days I'm going to expect all three of you to call me 'Daddy', the way any normal, affectionate daughters would do. Don't forget I'm your father legally, and I have as much right over you legally as your mother does."
"I guess you do. But that doesn't mean I'm going to call you 'Daddy' anyway," Thelma had the brazen audacity to go ahead and blurt out.
I could see him suck in his breath and stare at her as if he was already measuring her bottom for a tanning.
"So that's the way you feel about it, is it? All right, you've just about defied me. We'll see who's going to win. Come along downstairs. You too, Betty Jane," he added, beckoning with his hand.
There wasn't any help for it, and on the way downstairs I tried to talk him out of it. I said, "Look, Mr. Sturgis, Thelma's upset because she's the youngest and she was awfully fond of Daddy. You can't expect her overnight to let you take his place, you know."
He was holding her by the elbow and forcing her down the stairs with him, but he stopped and turned to look at me, and again I got that weak-in-the-knees feeling. There was nothing in his eyes but evil and hostility and even-well, now I know why-anticipation. And then he said, "Just because you happen to be the oldest and nearly sixteen, Betty Jane, don't think you have any special privileges where obedience is concerned. Come on, now."
He went to Mom's bedroom, and I sort of looked surprised when I saw her wearing a very slinky black satin housecoat with a long zipper down the front, and her hair was mussed and her lipstick a little smeared and she looked sort of sheepish when he led Thelma along side of him, with me bringing up the rear.
"This girl, Edith, is just begging for a spanking," he announced to Mom. "She woke you up with her radio, she kept the door locked, and then she acted insolent as if she were trying to find fault with my disturbing her. I think that Her Majesty is in for a little lesson, don't you agree, Edith?"
"Don't be too hard on her, Timothy dear," Mom said in a sort of crooning voice, and then she gave a little giggle. I really didn't recognize her, Mr. Harding. Something, I couldn't quite put my finger on what, had changed her. She wasn't sticking up for us at all. She didn't give us the feeling that we belonged to her at all any more. It was a terrible feeling and I didn't like it the least little bit.
"I think, since she's the youngest, and obviously you've spoiled her, Edith, you ought to begin her spanking and then I'll finish it. Take her things off and get her bottom ready. And you, Betty Jane, you sit there in that chair and watch and don't say a word."
He didn't have to add anything after that order, because I could fill in the rest for myself: if I didn't keep my mouth shut, he was going to have my panties down and spank my bottom just the way he was going to do with poor Thelma's.
Thelma began to sniffle and then to cry, and Mom took hold of her rather gently, sat up, drew her over her lap and made her stretch out on the bed, then hiked up her little play skirt and then the short petticoat underneath it. Thelma had soft, baby-pink skin, and a darling, chubby bottom. The cheeks were upstanding and round, and her tight little white cotton panties shaped it out almost more than if she had been stark naked.
She was starting to cry as soon as Mom had pulled up her clothes and then she pleaded not to have her panties taken down when she felt Mom's fingers pry under the waistband.
"Oh no, Mommie, please don't do that! Leave them on-oh, you can give me twice as much if you want, but please don't let him see me bare, I don't want him to see my heinie bare," she wailed.
Mom didn't say a word. She just glanced up rather pathetically, and Mr. Sturgis gave her a brisk, impatient nod. Then down came Thelma's panties and my eyes fixed on her plump, round, pink-skinned seat. She was starting to tighten up the muscles already, and beginning to kick her pretty legs in their bobby socks up and down as she sobbed and squirmed and looked back at Mom and tried to beg off.
"Go ahead, Edith," Mr. Sturgis' voice had a warning note to it, one I was later to recognize in all its meaning. All I thought then was that he was being awfully bossy. And the strange thing was that Mom took it as she did. But I found out about that later, too-I'm sorry, David darling, I'll try to be more concise from now on, the way I know you want me to be.
Now where was I? Oh, yes. So Mom clamped her left arm around Thelma's waist, ran her right hand over my sister's flinching, naked heinie, and then she gave Thelma a sort of halfhearted slap on the right cheek, right over the plumpest part. Poor Thelma squealed and kicked her legs and begged Mom not to do it and please to pull her panties up.
"That's not even a spanking," Mr. Sturgis said disgustedly. "Now you'd better do what I told you to, Edith, or else I'll have to take over and you know what that would mean."
I didn't know what it would mean, but it seemed to mean a great deal to Mom, judging from the frightened glance she gave him and the way the color rushed to her face and the way she tightened her grip on Thelma's waist and then really lifted her hand and brought it down with a loud, hard SMACK! At once Thelma let out a wail you could have heard all over the house, and wriggled and twisted her naked behind on which the flaming imprint of Mom's hand stood out in bold relief.
There wasn't anything half hearted about that spank that time, just as there wasn't anything half hearted about poor little Thelma's scream of "OWW! That hurt, Mommie! Oh, please don't spank so hard, please, Mommie!"
"That's more like it," was all that Mr. Sturgis had to say. He stood there with his arms folded across his chest, just looking mean. Then he gave me a sidelong glance, and again I felt my knees turn to jelly. I tried to stare at Thelma real hard, so he wouldn't think I was gold-bricking or daydreaming, or anything like that, and get me down in his black books.
Mom went on spanking Thelma and gave her about twenty swats, I think, and she was kicking like anything and trying to get loose and finally grabbing her bottom and trying to cover up.
"I'll take over now, Edith," Mr. Sturgis said. He bent down, picked poor Thelma up and carried her over to the straight-backed chair and sat down on it. On the way, he bent over again and picked up the black wooden hairbrush he had used on Holly, which was lying on Mom's dresser.
Thelma was squirming like an eel and trying to kick her legs, but her panties had got all tangled up. I could see her pussy, and it was a soft pink slit and there was just a little dark blonde hair around it. I'd never seen my sisters naked like that before, not ever. It was funny, Mr. Harding, but seeing Thelma all bare like that sort of gave me the feeling I used to get in bed at night and was alone and couldn't sleep. Yes, David, what I mean is that when I was playing with myself. Frigging, that's the word I mean. I'm sorry, David. I'll say it right from now on, I promise.
Mr. Sturgis rolled Thelma's clothes up as high as they could go, almost to her neck, although he was only going to spank her bottom. Then he clamped his left arm around her so tightly she could never get loose, shifted his right leg out from under hers and promptly clamped it over her calves.
Then he lifted up the hairbrush and brought it down with an awful SMACKKK on the right cheek of her behind where it was the plumpest, and where it was also the reddest already. She let out a screech and tried to kick, but all she could do was arch herself off his lap and swing her hips this way and that while she was screaming, "Oohh no-don't use that awful hairbrush on my poor heinie, it's so sore already-oh Mommie, don't let him use it on me-oh please, make him pull my panties up-I'm So ashamed, Mommie!"
But Mom didn't say a word. She sat there on the edge of the bed, her hands folded in her lap, leaning forward just a little. She was watching too, but there was a strange light in her eyes, and I could have sworn I saw a tiny little smile on her lips.
I just didn't believe it. But most of my attention was directed to Thelma's naked heinie, because Mr. Sturgis was raising and lowering that brush very fast and very loud, and every time he did, Thelma let out a pitiful scream and wept and pleaded for mercy. She wasn't talking to him, she was talking to Mom, and it didn't do her the least bit of good.
Her voice was hoarse and her body was shaking with sobs when he at last put down the hairbrush, but only to tap over the crease of her flaming, reddened cheeks and demand in a very stern voice, "Now do you think you can be more polite and more thoughtful and not wake your mother up with that blasting radio, young lady?"
"Y-y-yes, yes, yes, sir," poor little Thelma sobbed. She was squirming and shifting her naked heinie all over his lap now, trying to get rid of the fires in her swollen seat.
"Well, just remember it the next time, young lady, or you'll get twice as much," he told her. As she got off his lap, she was rubbing her eyes with her knuckles, and with the other hand reaching for her tumbled panties, which she finally managed to locate and pull up over her pussy and swollen, red hind end.
"Now you go right back to your room and stay there, young lady. Your mother will bring you in a tray of supper, and you can apologize to her when it's bedtime. And don't you ever let me catch you locking your door again, or talking back to me the way you did. Remember that!" he said as he finally helped her get off his lap.
Thelma didn't care at all about her tangled panties. All she could do was rub her flaming behind and screw up her face with the tears running down her cheeks, and sob. Then finally, Mom got up and patted her hair and crooned something to her and led her out of the room. For the first time in my life I was alone with Mr. Sturgis, and my knees were still shaking. He stared at me, and I swear there was a cold smile on his lips.
"I hope what you saw just now, Betty Jane, will be a good lesson for you. As I said before, I don't expect all of your girls to accept me overnight. But I want respect, because I'm your father and I have all the responsibility of taking care of you, as well as of your mother. Just remember that, Betty Jane. You may go now."
"Y-yes, sir," I stammered, and I certainly got back to my room in record time.
CHAPTER FOUR
Exactly one month to the day after Mr. Sturgis married Mom, I got my very first spanking.
It was an awfully warm summer in Bismarck that year, and we girls really looked forward to summer vacation after school. I suppose it was because we could get outside and play and not be under Mr. Sturgis' ever-watchful eye. We noticed from day to day that Mom seemed to be less and less her old sweet self. She seemed to hang on every word he said whenever they were together, and she would always add some little comment like, "Now you mind what your father says, girls, because he's right, you know." It got so she was just about an echo of Mr. Sturgis, and I never felt so lonely in all my life.
Holly and Thelma seemed to look up to me more than ever, and not just because I was the oldest. I guess it was because we all felt sort of left out now. And then, because each of them had had a spanking from Mr. Sturgis and I had sympathized with them, they felt I was definitely on their side.
I was going to enter my senior year in high school that fall, and my grades had been pretty good. Even Mr. Sturgis hadn't had any fault to find with them. But all of a sudden he began to notice that we were wearing sort of revealing summer things, which was exactly the way he put it. I knew I had a pair of nice freshly ironed linen shorts and a white T-shirt and my sandals, and I liked to play tennis with Marie Emerson, who had pigtails and wheat-colored hair and was sort of awfully good-natured and who lived about half a block down the street from where we were. Well, anyhow, I was going out this Saturday afternoon to play singles with her, and Mom was lying down taking a nap. Thelma and Holly had gone out to play with some of the girls of their own age with whom they'd made friends.
As I came down the stairs from my own room, Mr. Sturgis was in the living room, reading the morning newspaper and looking very gloomy. But to me, he always seemed to look that way. He was in his shirtsleeves with suspenders, an old pair of pants and slippers and socks, I remember. He glanced up and saw me, and then he scowled.
"Where are you going, Betty Jane?" he asked.
"Out to play tennis, Mr. Sturgis," I said blithely. None of us had gotten around to calling him "Daddy" yet, and my private guess was that nobody was going to be the first. Holly and Thelma hadn't forgotten their spankings, you can be sure of that, and all they wanted to do was keep out of his way so as not to get another one.
"In that?" He arched his very thick, bushy eyebrows, and I knew he meant what I was wearing.
"Yes, sir. It's very warm out," I said.
"Are you trying to be flippant, young lady?" he put down the paper and gave me a glare.
"Oh no, sir. It's just that this is nice and cool and it's easy to play in."
"I see. And what are you wearing under it?"
Then I did blush a little, because he was getting awfully personal, even if he was my stepfather. "Why, pants and a bra, of course," I mumbled, and I went down a few more steps toward the landing and was heading toward the front door when he stopped me again by calling out, "You aren't going out like that, Betty Jane! I'm surprised at you. Hasn't your mother taught you modesty? Do you realize how skimpy those shorts are? And that shirt-that's something boys wear, and it's very suggestive."
Well, I had had my time of the month a long time ago, of course, and I sort of knew the facts of life, as you might say, but I still blushed like a beet. He meant my bubbies. They were already pretty well developed, I'll have to admit, and. so was my bottom, and all of a sudden, standing there blushing and looking hangdog and knowing my legs were bare from the bottoms of the linen shorts down to my bobby socks, I didn't feel as if he were a stepfather at all. It was just as if he was a nasty old man looking me over and finding fault because I wasn't wearing too much. That's exactly how it was.
"But I've worn this a long time, sir," I protested.
"That was before I came into this house, Betty Jane," he reminded me. "Now you go right upstairs and change into something more decent."
That made me mad and before I knew what I was doing, I lost my temper. Looking back, I can see that I played right into his hands. He was probably sitting there waiting to egg me on so I would burst out just like that, and I didn't disappoint him.
"But Mom has always said it was all right, and I don't know why I should change it now, when it's so warm out," I said, and I was a little testy, too.
He got up from his chair and came towards me. He took hold of my elbow and he had an awfully mean look on his face, and he said in a voice that was almost shaking with anger, "I had thought that since you were the oldest and the most sensible, Betty Jane, you'd get used to having me here as your father. But it seems that all this time you're really the ringleader against me, aren't you?"
"No, I'm not. And please let go of my arm-you're hurting me, Mr. Sturgis," I told him, trying to jerk it loose.
Instead, he gave me a jerk that made me gasp and he said, "You've been waiting for a showdown, young lady, and this is as good a time as any to give it to you. You're probably thinking to yourself that because you're practically sixteen you're too big to be punished as your sisters were. I'm going to show you how wrong you are right now. Come along with me!"
I can recall I turned red as a beet and I gasped out, "Now wait a minute, Mr. Sturgis, that's not fair! I didn't say I wouldn't change. I just told you that Mom said it was all right. It is warm outside, and when a person plays tennis, they don't usually have too much on.
"I see," he had that nasty tone in his voice again. "Now you're trying to replace me as head of the household, Betty Jane. You and your infinite wisdom know much more than I could possibly know, just because you're you. Decidedly, young lady, this little lesson is well overdue. And I would advise you not to try to resist me. You just come right along this minute!"
He had lean fingers and they were pinching my elbow something awful, so I didn't have much choice. Just the same, I thought it was unfair and unjust and when I started to remember how Thelma and Holly had had their panties taken down and their bare bottoms reddened until they howled for mercy. I was suddenly terribly scared.
"Please, Mr. Sturgis," I pleaded with him as I followed him down the hallway towards his bedroom, "Please ask Mom if she didn't say this was all right to play tennis in. Please, won't you do that? You can always spank me later, but please ask her that, that's all I'm asking you to do, please!"
"You mother has left the discipline of you and your sisters entirely up to me, Betty Jane," was all he said. He opened the door of his bedroom, stepped inside and hauled me after him, then closed and locked the door. My scared feeling was getting worse and worse, till I thought I was going to faint. I was trembling, and I know my knees were knocking together and there were tears in my eyes until I could hardly see.
He sat down on the straight-backed chair and beckoned to me. "Come put yourself over my lap and get ready," he told me.
"Please-won't you wait a minute-won't you please talk to mom?" I begged. Anything to put off that fatal moment.
After all, I was nearly sixteen, and I thought I was going to die from mortification, just at the thought of having to go over his lap like a baby and have my panties pulled down and be spanked on my bare bottom by this mean, hostile man who had suddenly entered our lives and turned everything around till it wasn't fun anymore to be a family.
"I'm not going to tell you again, Betty Jane," he gave me a very stern, menacing look. "I've already told you your mother is taking a nap, that she has put full authority in my hands, and I'd like to know whether you're going to come put yourself across my lap or do I have to force you to it? For your own good, I warn you not to make me resort to force!"
I was ashamed, yes, but I was also scared. And I knew that he could certainly do it if he wanted to, and he would probably do it a lot harder if he had to resort to force, so I walked slowly towards him. The tears were blinding my eyes so that I could scarcely see. The next thing I knew, his arm was around my waist, pulling me down, and I uttered a little cry and struggled, but I was already down over his lap.
I clasped my hands together, gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and told myself that he could boil me in oil but I wouldn't utter a single yell or ask him to let me off. I was going to show him, I was!
But then all of a sudden his fingers began to fumble with the button of my linen shorts and next he had them down, although I tried to press my thighs hard against his to prevent that calamity from taking place. He just gave me a little pinch high up on my bare leg, and when I gasped and squirmed a little bit, down came the linen shorts about my knees.
I was wearing a pair of white nylon panties, I remember, and I was very proud of them because they were the first really expensive and fairly sexy-looking panties I'd ever owned. His lean fingers were inside the waistband before I could call him to stop, and they were halfway down my bottom before I tried frantically to press myself so hard against him that he couldn't possibly get them down. Then in a choking voice I called out, "Oh please don't, Mr. Sturgis, please don't! Leave them on! You can give me double, but for mercy sake don't take them off!"
"I'm glad that a big girl like you realizes how shameful it is to be lying over her father's lap and her big naked bottom waiting for a childish spanking for being so insolent and superior," he lectured me. I already felt tears running down my cheeks and I didn't answer. I swore I wouldn't, I swore I would let him torture me alive, within two inches of my very life before I'd say a word.
He kept pulling the panties down till they were tangled with my linen shorts, then he clamped his right leg over my calves and his left arm circled my waist and he held me like a vise. And then I was terribly ashamed and afraid. My naked bottom had never seemed so large, so well developed, so helpless.
But he didn't spank me right away, to my dying shame. Instead, he put his right palm on one of my bottom-cheeks, and began to move it around all over my seat, feeling me up, I suppose, to find out how tender and sensitive it was and how hard he could spank in certain places. That's what David told me, and David certainly ought to know. He knows all my tender places, the darling.
I'm sorry, darling. I didn't mean to let out family secrets. Gee, Mr. Harding, I guess I just earned myself a little something extra after you leave again. Oh well.
I tightened all my muscles, and I kept my legs locked tight together so he couldn't see anything. But I could feel myself pressed against his bony leg, and the fingers of his left hand were digging hard into my tummy. I wanted to sink through the ground and turn invisible, but that wasn't to be.
And then, suddenly, without warning, I felt a sudden burning sting in the right cheek of my bottom and I knew the spanking had begun. It was so hard it took my breath away, and I let out a startled gasp of "Ohhhh!"
Now at last I knew what it was like, and I knew too, naive though I was by comparison in those days, that he was going to prolong it and enjoy every minute of it and that there was nothing I could do about it.
There was a long wait, so terribly long that I sighed a little and squirmed, a bit, because I was pressed over him at an angle and my tummy hurt a bit, partly because of the grip his fingers had on me. Then there was a loud noise and my hips jumped a little, and I felt the hot sting on the other cheek this time. My spanking had really started!
I closed my eyes as tightly as I could, and I kept my lips tightly together, because I didn't want to call out a single word that would let him know how terrible it was for me, a big grownup girl who was going into her senior year in high school, to have her bottom bare before a perfectly strange man. That's what he was for me, nothing else.
Then again my hips swerved and I let out a startled yipe, because his hard, heavy hand had just landed on the right cheek of my rump, flattening it down at almost precisely the same place as before. The sting of it was awful and I could feel the heat going through my bottom-cheek and I knew it had to be awfully red from being smacked so hard.
Another long wait, and I squirmed a bit, because his bony knee was certainly uncomfortable for me. Just as I was trying to find a better position, his hand came down again on my left cheek and I let out another gasp, because it really stung. I held my hands in front of me, clenched into fists, and I waited there, miserably and in shame and fright, because I knew it was going to be awfully bad for me-and it was, although not exactly as I had expected it would.
For now he began to spank me first on the right bottom-cheek and then on the left, with the full force of his hand. Tears sprang to my eyes every time his palm made contact with my burning flesh, I arched and wriggled, I couldn't help it. All the time, I was thinking that I just had to keep him from seeing what was between my legs.
I tried to count, as a way to distract myself. I got to twenty-five, and then I was groaning and sobbing a bit, because it was burning dreadfully. He seemed to know the most sensitive places on my bare bottom and he would repeat smacks two and three times in a row against the very spot he had just spanked. It lifted my head, and tears were running down my cheeks and I couldn't see at all.
Now his left hand shifted, going down to the edge of my hip, to the lower abdomen. I scrunched myself more tightly up against him, partly to avoid his feeling me up like that. I didn't know what to do, and I was just praying that my sisters wouldn't suddenly come in and watch me getting it like a kid.
His hand kept rising and falling again, all this time, without losing a beat. Now he was working on the bottom parts of my seat and on the tops of my thighs, and I didn't appreciate it one little bit. I jumped and started, swerved my hips this way and that, but always his hand found the target. The tears kept flowing down my cheeks and I began to gasp and pant as the spanking seemed never to end.
And then he stopped and I lay there, gasping, trembling in aftermath. And then, all of a sudden, the unexpected, the miracle, the incredible conversion came about.
The lips of my pussy were beginning to twitch and I could feel a certain warm sticky sensation inside my cleft. Also, finding myself still very uncomfortably draped over his one knee, and not at all comfortably, I began to squirm about to find an easier resting place. In doing so, my pussy rubbed against his thigh and knee, and I suddenly felt tingling waves of excitement running through me. This, together with the hot, burning, throbbing torture of my bare bottom, made me so sexy I didn't know what I was going to do.
I felt him lean back and let go of me for a few minutes, and I blinked my eyes to clear them of the tears and turned my face back to look. To my horror, I saw he was pulling the belt out of the loops of his pants, and then his left arm came out again, went around my waist, and grabbed hold of me very tightly.
I had just time to see that he was holding the belt doubled over, and then it came down with a wicked crack, and I almost threw myself off his lap, it hurt so badly. Then again it fell, this time over the base of my heinie, and all my resolutions to be brave and not let him know by so much as a syllable that he was hurting me suddenly vanished. I tilted back my head and let out a scream.
"Oh don't! Oh stop! Oh please don't hit me with that awful belt-I'm so sore, Mr. Sturgis!"
"I'm going to teach you once and for all that you're no better than a child, Betty Jane. I'm going to get that insolence and smartness out of your nature if I have to do this all the time," he informed me, and then the belt came down right over the crease between my heinie-cheeks and before I could stop it, my hands came back to protect the spot.
He at once caught both of my wrists in his left hand, and pulled them back so that wouldn't get in the way, and down came the strap, once, twice, three times, each time from the left edge of the hip vertically toward the right. I was crying so hard I could hardly hear him continually scolding me. His voice was a drone and my ears were roaring. My bottom was just about on fire, and I was twisting and squirming to throw myself off his lap, but I couldn't.
Down came the belt again, and again. I lost all sense of pride. I screamed for him to stop. I told him I would be a good girl and do whatever he wanted. I begged him to put down that awful belt because my bottom was burning up from the handspanking already. But he didn't seem to listen or care. Instead, the strap came cracking down and more sharply every time, or so it seemed. Finally, he stopped, after applying two quick, hard strokes over the upper curves of my blazing bottom, and I lay there, wailing and sobbing, not caring what I looked like.
I heard the belt drop to the floor, and then I felt his palm glide over my swollen, burning bottom. I had to catch my breath for sobbing, and I could scarcely hear him tell me, "It hurt me to punish a big girl like you, Betty Jane, but some day you'll understand. Now lie there a moment and cry it out, then you can go back to your room."
I didn't need his invitation to cry; I was doing a pretty good job on my own in spite of all my brave resolutions. I kept squirming back and forth, trying to get loose, but his left hand still held me cruelly. Then suddenly I realized that my pussy was hot and squirming too. All my rubbing against his bony knee and thigh and the heat of the thrashing had taken me back to my own room at night and my finger tickling pussy and feeling the most exquisite and troubling sensations in the world rushing through my pussy.
Then, as his palm glided over my scorched bare seat, I heard him say, "I know it's a hard lesson, but it's better to learn it now than in later life. Some day you'll really thank me. Now I'll give you a minute or two to stop crying, and then you can put your things back on and go to your room and go to bed. Yes, bed. Your mother will bring you a tray of supper when it's time. You're not going anywhere at all today, but you're going to stay in bed and think about what I've tried to teach you." And with that, he raised his right hand and applied another sharp smack on my naked seat. I'm not ashamed to say that I yelled like a baby and twisted and wriggled and tried to get my legs out from under his.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, I felt myself grabbed by the hips and lifted up. I was crying strenuously, and my face was as red as my bottom. But the moment I stood on my feet, my knees seemed to be weak again and I swayed on my feet so much that he had to stand up and hold me. My panties and shorts were twisted around my ankles now, and I knew he could see the hair of my pussy and everything else I had. And I didn't care. It was just torture!
CHAPTER FIVE
Looking back now with what I've learned-and a lot of it has been from dear David-I can remember that after Mr. Sturgis had finished spanking me, he had kept the doubled belt pressed against my flaming rear and for quite some time while he scolded me and told me that he hoped this lesson would be profitable for my future conduct.
Finally he put the belt down and said I might put my clothes back on and go to my room. I was crying, and I felt terribly weak, and my bottom was burning me just awfully. I tried to get up, and I found it hard to do that, and then I felt his bony fingers take hold of my sides just above the hips and lift me up. I had several mixed feelings right about then: the main was, I suppose, to get away from him and back up to my room where I could cry it out and maybe put a cold towel on my absolutely sizzling heinie. I mean, that old nasty belt had been a lot worse than I had ever thought it could be, even when I had seen Thelma and Holly get it on their bare tails.
And then the second feeling was that with my panties down and being pulled off his lap this way, he could see my pussy, and I was awfully ashamed. I guess maybe the third feeling was that I was disgusted with myself for having gone back on my resolution not to let him know it hurt me at all, and there I was crying and being so weak I couldn't get up off his lap when it was over.
He just sat back and watched, and now I know a Utile bit more about what made him do what he did. He sat there and watched me as I painfully squatted down, not without an "Ouch," it hurt so, fumbled for my twisted panties and shorts and pulled them on up. Then I pulled down my T-shirt, because it had snugged up a little while I was wriggling over his lap during the last part of the spanking. I knew one thing for sure-I wasn't going to play tennis that afternoon!
Just the same, just to let me know who was boss, I remember he called after me as I was hobbling up the stairs on my way to my room, "And you're not to go out at all this afternoon, just remember that, young lady!"
I guess maybe, with my bottom burning so badly, my instinctive reaction to tell him where he could go himself was held back in favor of a timid "Yes, sir." I definitely didn't want another dose right about then!
I finally got to my room, closed and locked the door. Of course, locking the door was forbidden, but at that point all I could think of was being alone with my pain and my shame. There I was, nearly sixteen and having to he over my stepfather's lap, have my shorts and my panties taken down to show my heinie and to be smacked with his hand and then his belt while I was being scolded like a baby.
I slipped down my shorts and panties again and put them over the back of a chair near the door, and then I went into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I gasped when I saw how red it was all over, but especially at the ripest places and at the base of my bottom, where it was most awfully sensitive.
I gingerly felt myself here and there, and I made faces at the mirror, through my tears. Then I took a washcloth and let the cold water run until it felt pretty cool and soaked the cloth. When the cloth was nice and cool, I turned off the water and went back to my bed, stretched out on it carefully because every movement hurt.
I reached around and put the cool washcloth over my flaming seat and then I sighed, because it was awfully soothing. I pillowed my head on my arms and had a quiet cry for myself.
And then I began to discover something. The burning heat in my behind which had threatened to make me say almost anything to Mr. Sturgis to make him stop bringing down that belt on my stinging hind end had begun to diminish a little, and there were throbbing waves of heat, all right, but they were nothing like as painful as they were when he was spanking me.
I squirmed a little, so as to get the wash cloth properly balanced on both cheeks, and told myself that I should have taken a hand towel instead to cover the whole area better. I was pretty well developed, of course. Anyway, as I squirmed back and forth, all of a sudden I got the funniest feeling in my pussy. It was a kind of tickling, and it was warm and exciting and combined with the feverish temperature in my poor spanked bare behind, it began to make me awfully nervous.
I reached my right hand back to press the washcloth against my bummy, so as to extract the last cool drops of water from it, and then I found myself sliding my left hand under my tummy and down to the nest of soft, silky hairs which framed my girlish quimmy. The minute my fingertip touched the lips of my spot, I felt a long shiver ripple all through me, and I closed my eyes and shivered again because it was so exciting. Of course I had frigged myself-David taught me that delicious little word, you know, Mr. Harding-but it had never been as mystifyingly strange and exciting as what I was feeling right then.
Slowly my forefinger moved all around the outer lips of my cunt-that is another darling word I learned from my bossy and dearly-beloved husband-and then I began to feel myself inside, around the inner lips, until by accident I touched my clitoris.
I didn't have any intention of frigging myself then, I really didn't. I guess I was just trying to cool off the fire Mr. Sturgis had kindled in my rear end. But by then, I was too far gone to stop what I was doing, even though I knew it was wrong. After all, I'd never done it before except at night when I was in my own bed and ready for sleep and couldn't-you know, like I explained earlier.
I turned my face to the left and pressed my cheek down hard against the comforter. Then I pressed my right palm down hard over the washcloth. My bottom didn't feel quite so feverishly hot as it had when I came into my room, but it was still plenty warm, believe you me!
But that warmth was mingling now with the tingling, sexy feeling my finger was making inside my quimmy, and now that I'd touched my clitoris, I began to feel longer and much stronger spasms running all through me. Even the nipples of my titties were getting a little hard and they were darker-I know, because I raised myself up a little, pulled up my T-shirt and looked at them. I kept my T-shirt pulled up above my titties then, and as I lay back down I rubbed them too against the comforter while I began to shift my hips back and forth in a kind of slow circular movement. All the time my finger was rubbing my little tickler, and my other hand was keeping the cloth squeezed down real hard over my round bottom-cheeks.
I began to feel the most dreamy sensations. I'd even forgotten to pull down the shades when I'd gotten to my room, I was so upset and hurting from the hairbrush spanking. fiut now the room seemed dark and misty and it was as if I were floating in a sort of outer space, just feeling what I was feeling and nothing else in the world mattered. And then all of a sudden I heard myself cry a 'tie, and my body was thrashing about in the most truly passionate climax I had ever had.
All the frigging I had done myself before Mom married Mr. Sturgis didn't really count until that afternoon, and I know now it was the spanking that had triggered me off to have the most heavenly pussy come I'd ever had till then.
When it was finally over and I drew a long, deep breath, I remembered I'd locked the door and I was afraid Mr. Sturgis would come up and say something to me and then find out what I had been doing. So I scrambled off the bed and unlocked the door, then hurried to the closet and got out my jammies and my robe and went back to bed and lay on my tummy and thought about things for a while.
I wondered if he would ever try to spank me again. I was much too big and besides, if the other girls in the senior class at high school ever found out that a big girl like me got spanked, I'd never be able to live it down.
I hadn't really thought much about boys then, except maybe a couple of fellows that were awfully nice, except they were seniors and had their own girls. I used to tell myself it would be nice to have a handsome dark-haired fellow-yes, just like David here-pay me all sorts of attention and carry my books and maybe try to steal a kiss or neck a Utile. But I had a feeling with Mr. Sturgis around, I wouldn't be allowed to date. As it turned out, that was exactly what happened, and as you will find out later, that discovery was to cost my bottom a very painful ten or fifteen minutes.
I suppose I really hadn't thought very much about spanking per se, other than what any kid might do: that it was something to be afraid of and try to get out of, and that just about every kid at one time or another got one. I didn't tell myself, though, that it was funny that Daddy had never done that to us, but here, almost right from the start, Mr. Sturgis, who was going to be our new daddy, believed in doing it and that all three of us had already got it.
I was only grateful that Thelma and Holly didn't know, and I certainly wasn't going to tell them. Still and all, at supper that evening, I felt it rather uncomfortable to sit still and I had to squirm about a little, and Mom looked over at me and said sharply, "What's the matter with you, Betty jane? What makes you so nervous?" And I turned red as a beet and started to concentrate on my food on my plate and didn't say anything. I was grateful that Mr. Sturgis didn't either, because I saw Holly and Thelma prick up their ears.
But it was on the very next morning, Sunday, that I discovered a lot about Mr. Sturgis and why he seemed to like spanking girls so much. I guess maybe because I had frigged myself to such a tremendous pussy spending, because my mind was all full of thoughts about what Mr. Sturgis had done to me, I didn't sleep too well that night. Anyhow, it was a warm night and even having the window open didn't seem to help much. So what happened was that I woke up about eight in the morning on Sunday, which I'd never done before.
Usually, before Mom married Mr. Sturgis, we girls stayed in bed as late as even noon sometimes, especially in the summer. Mom used to say it gave her the morning without botheration, and she would just as soon we went on sleeping, because we were growing and it was good for us.
I wanted a glass of cold milk, so I put on my slippers and tip-toed downstairs to the kitchen. I poured out the milk, took a sip or two, and then I heard something funny. It sounded like gasping, and there was a sort of smacking sound, too, from time to time. I was curious as anything, and I still am, for that matter.
So I hurriedly finished the milk, wiped out the glass and put it back in the cupboard and then tiptoed down the first-floor hallway to find out what it was all about. The noise kept getting louder. There were muffled gasps that sounded like "Ohhhh" and "Ahhhh," and then there was that sound of smacking again, but it was coming a little more quickly now. It wasn't from Mr. Sturgis' bedroom now, but from Mom's, the last one down the hall. And as I reached it, I could see that the door wasn't entirely closed, there was a tiny crack through which I could look in-and I did just that!
I had to clap my hand over my mouth to keep from calling out with surprise at what I saw. Mom was stark naked on the bed, and she had her knees drawn up against her titties, and her hands were tied with one of her stockings at the wrists and above her head. She was lifting her head and her eyes were very wide and full of tears, and there was a handkerchief in her mouth, too. And there was Mr. Sturgis kneeling, turned at right angles from her, his left arm circling her legs at the knees to keep them forced back against her titties and using that black wooden hairbrush he had spanked me with to whack her very red, plump bottomglobes. He was absolutely stark naked, and for the first time in my life, I saw a man's prick ready for fucking.
All of a sudden I began to get that strange tickling feeling down in my quimmy again, and I watched, breathless and fascinated. Mom had pale pink skin, but her heinie was awfully red, especially at the base of the cheeks.
And every time he brought the hairbrush down, her bottom jumped and squirmed, and I could see his prick bob and jiggle as he shifted himself on his knees to get a better angle for spanking her. Her toes were twisting and her bare feet were kicking convulsively every time the hairbrush came down, and those were the muffled gasps I had heard, because she was gagged.
I put my right hand on my pussy through my jammies and began to rub it slowly as I watched Mr. Sturgis give her three or four more swats on the bare butt, then drop the hairbrush and turn around to face her. First his hands grasped the backs of her knees, and then I saw his prick sink into the pink gape of
Mom's cunthole, and I heard her groan and I saw her turn her face from side to side, jerking at her bound wrists.
He sank himself all the way in, leaning forward on her, and then he grabbed her titties with both hands and put his head on her shoulder, and began to fuck her with hard, driving digs. I saw Mom's bare legs come around his bottom, and he was awfully sinewy and hairy. I could see his big balls, hairy too, jiggling and moving about as he went in and out of Mom. And all the time, the hot tickling in my pussy was making me wet between my legs, and so I swayed against the side of the door and very nearly bumped it open, which would have been just sheer disaster!
But I couldn't tear my eyes away. All of a sudden, he gave a groan and sank forward in a last hard dig, while Mom's legs seemed to clench him with all her might. Then he sagged on her and lay there, breathing hard, wheezing, his face all red and his body quivering. After a few minutes, he pulled himself out and I could hear a squishy "plop" and Mom groaned.
But it wasn't a groan of pain this time at all. Maybe the others hadn't been, either. All I know is that he untied the stocking from around her wrists and pulled the handkerchief out of her mouth, and then I heard her gasp in a husky, strangled sort of strange voice, the kind of which I'd never heard her use before, "Oh Timothy lover, oh that was ever so good. I just died when you put it into me after that awful hard spanking!"
And that was how I learned that there can be pleasure in pain and that spanking a girl's bare bottom and making her cry can get a man terribly excited and want to fuck her, and that if everything works out, both of them are more thrilled that way than they could be just fucking the way most married people do.
CHAPTER SIX
So at last I had found out what it was that had made Mom marry Mr. Sturgis and why she had, seemingly overnight, allowed him to discipline us where Daddy never had. Because Daddy had been a gentle, friendly kind of man, while Mr. Sturgis was mean and domineering, and there was probably something in Mom's makeup which had led her to want him to take over her life just as he was taking over ours.
I decided not to tell Thelma and Holly what I had seen, for more than one reason. They were still too young to know about fucking and things like that, and about the best I could do would be to warn them to be very good and not make Mr. Sturgis angry enough to want to spank them again.
I mean, because he seemed to get a kick out of doing it. And I was mad at myself, because when he had been spanking me with his hand and then with the strap, I had actually had that funny kind of sexy feeling that I got before only when I played with my pussy in bed at night. I certainly didn't want him to get the idea that I would enjoy getting spanked, thank you very much!
So next Tuesday, in the afternoon when we were playing catch out in the yard of Mr. Sturgis' house, I managed to tell my sisters that I had heard Mom and Mr. Sturgis talking and agreeing that we kids were going to be made to toe the line or else. I didn't tell them that I had had my own first dose of strap-oil, because I was still too ashamed to want to think about it. But they both agreed right off that they didn't want another dose themselves, and even if they didn't like Mr. Sturgis, they were going to try to mind. They too, just as I, had noticed the change in Mom, but I didn't tell them what I thought was the real reason for it.
About ten days went by, and we seemed to be getting along pretty well, when all of a sudden both Holly and Thelma made Mr. Sturgis mad. Holly was always a little scamp and forever getting into mischief. Our Daddy had thought it cute, and even Mom had got a lot of laughs out of Holly's tomboyish pranks. But Mr. Sturgis didn't have that sort of humor.
As I remember, it was on a Friday afternoon around four o'clock. We kids had gone swimming in a little creek, and Mom had gone along. Mr. Sturgis had gone into the department store to do some overtime work, but he had got back to the house by the time we were there, and he looked to me as if he were just spoiling for trouble.
The weather was just scorching and he had put on just a bathrobe over his underwear shorts and slippers, was smoking a pipe, and reading the afternoon paper. We all had our bathing suits on and we had dried after our swim, and we had our robes on, too. But I guess Holly wanted to make up with him, so she walked over to him and gave him a big hug and said, "Gee, Mr. Sturgis, you ought to have come swimming with us. The water was just great!"
She had crumpled his paper as she hugged him, and I could see the mean look on his face. Also, the top of her robe was a little wet because her suit wasn't completely dried. And some of it had got off onto his bathrobe. It was really silly to make a fuss over it, but make a fuss was exactly what he did.
"Do you always have to be so boisterous, Holly?" he angrily asked her. Holly flushed, looked back at Mom, as if for moral support, and then I guess she got a little riled too.
"I was just trying to be nice, that's all. I'm sorry. I won't ever try to hug you again. It's wasted anyway."
When I heard her say that, I sort of gasped, because that was just the spark to kindle the fire that was going to be blazing in her.
I trembled with joy, as I thought of getting her bottom very soon. He put down the paper, glared at her, and then he said in a cold, nasty tone, "I see. So you're putting me on trial too, are you? You're overstepping yourself, young lady. I think it's time you and I had another disciplinary session."
"No! You aren't going to spank me again, you aren't!" Holly gasped, and her face was scarlet as she backed away. Then she looked at Mom and complained, "What did I do that was wrong? Why does he want to spank me? He's mean, that's what he is, and I hate him and I always will! Say something, Mom!"
And then Thelma started to blubber, because she really was the baby of the family, and she wailed, "I wish Mom had never married you, that's what! I wish it! Why did you ever have to come here and change everything?"
I kept my mouth shut, and it was just as well that I did. His face was absolutely livid and he was staring first at Holly and then at Thelma, and finally at Mom, as he said, "I'm going to have something to say to you, too, Edith, as soon as I take care of these spoiled brats of yours. You haven't done too good a job of getting them to adjust, it seems to me."
"But Timothy dear," she protested, and I could see that she was blushing too, and her eyes were very wide and a little scared, "I swear to you I've been telling the children to be nice and friendly. I can't imagine what's gotten into them, except that it's been terribly hot and it's been a lonely summer for them. After all, Bismarck is new to them and they haven't had a chance to make too many friends."
"Now you needn't try to defend them. There's absolutely no excuse for bad manners at any time, no matter where they occur," was his frosty answer. "All right, Holly, and you too, Thelma, come along with me. Betty Jane, I want you to watch this also. You haven't forgotten, I don't imagine, that I don't consider you too old for punishment whenever you deserve it."
Now it was my turn to blush and look down at the floor as my two sisters turned to glance at me with widened eyes. He had certainly let the cat out of the bag with a vengeance, Mr. Sturgis had, and then to make matters worse, didn't Thelma go and pipe out, "Betty Jane, you never told us you got a spanking too!" At that moment I wished I could have sunk through the floor and vanished forever, believe you me!
Mr. Sturgis looked at me with a sort of taunting little smile, and then his face got cross again as he addressed my sisters. "Yes, she certainly did, which just goes to show that what I say in this house from now on is going to be obeyed, or else I'll know the reason why. So long as all of you girls are under my charge, if I find fault with your behavior, you may expect a spanking. Now, Holly, Thelma, come along to my room. You too, Betty Jane. And you, Edith, go change your bathing suit and come to my room at once. I'll wait until you arrive. You're going to help me with these two naughty girls of yours."
Thelma began to cry, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles and pleading, "Mommie, don't let him spank me, I don't want a spanking, I didn't do anything, I didn't!" Holly also had tears in her eyes and she glanced appealingly at Mom, but it was evident that she wasn't going to get much help from that quarter, as I had already seen.
As for Mom, she turned red as a beet and meekly went to her room to change, just as Mr. Sturgis had told her to. So there was a very sad-faced processional of three girls behind Mr. Sturgis as we followed him into his bedroom.
All of us wore one-piece bathing suits, just like Mom. We had our robes on, of course, and our sandals so we wouldn't get the rugs and floors dirty with the sand we tracked in and hadn't quite rubbed off. I thought that Mr. Sturgis was going to spank Holly and Thelma over their bathing suits, but I was to find out that he had quite a different idea.
It took about three minutes for Mom to hurry back into the bedroom where Mr. Sturgis and the three of us were waiting. She had put on a slip, a robe and her house slippers. Her face was red and she couldn't look him straight in the eye as she moved slowly towards the big double bed.
"We'll start with Thelma," he announced. "You, Betty Jane, hold your sister's hands. You, Edith, take that naughty girl over your lap. Then you can pull down her suit. I'm going to give her the hairbrush."
"Oh no, Mommie, please don't let him take my suit off, please don't!" poor Thelma wailed.
Even Mom at this point tried to intercede, but in a very timid, almost apologetic voice: "Timothy, don't you-don't you think this one time you could do it over the suit? The girls will be naked that way."
"So much the better!" he snapped. "That is part of the humiliation and a most essential part of punishment for undisciplined young girls, believe me, Edith. And if you believe there is anything lewd or improper about a father correcting his own daughters, I shall have something to say to you later on."
This was a very veiled threat, but it made Mom gasp and hang her head. But Thelma once again earned herself a little extra with the hairbrush by blurting out, "But we're not our children, Mr. Sturgis! You're mean and nasty, and I hate you!" And then she stamped her foot till her titties jiggled in her tight blue one-piece bathing suit.
His lips were very tight and thin and he had never looked so mean as he did then. "Edith, get that child ready and over your lap at once," he commanded.
Mom was quite thoroughly cowed. She pulled the sobbing Thelma to her, slipped off the plump little blonde's bathrobe and then unbuttoned the shoulder straps and began to yank the still wet suit down.
Thelma screamed and tried to get away, and then Mr. Sturgis spoke to me: "Betty Jane, help your mother!" I wanted to say something about how cruel he was in frightening us all, but I just couldn't speak.
Numbly I went over and took Thelma's wrists, so Mom could keep on yanking down the bathing suit. I could see my sister's round, soft, not yet fully developed titties, and they were really adorable. In a few years, I thought to myself, Thelma was going to be a very beautiful girl if she would only give up eating between meals.
She tried to pull her wrists loose from me, and she screamed out, "You're on their side, too, Betty Jane! I wish I was out of this awful house! I wish I was dead!"
Holly was standing with bowed head, her hands clasped nervously together in front of her and was standing there shifting from foot to foot, and I could see that she was trembling. I suppose, looking back, the only thing she had to be relatively glad about was that she would be next and by then maybe Mr. Sturgis would have worked off some of his mad on poor little Thelma's helpless bottom.
The suit was down now, just below Thelma's behind, and of course it exposed her dainty, delicate, soft little cunt with just the start of a fleece starting around it. She was still pulling at her wrists so hard it made her little round titties jiggle.
"Get her ready," Mr. Sturgis demanded, going over to the dresser and picking up that nasty old black wooden hairbrush. Mom promptly couched Thelma across her lap as she sat on the edge of the bed, stretching the girl out over her, while I kept a good grip on her wrists.
Of course, Thelma hadn't had a chance to towel herself and so her skin way still moist and damp from the swim. That was going to make the hairbrush sting all the harder, I was sure-and it sure did!
Mr. Sturgis now walked over to the edge of the bed, put his left palm down on the small of Thelma's back and began to spank her very hard with the flat of the hairbrush. He started at the bottom of her seat, the most tender place of all, and after only three or four good whacks she was yelling and begging to be let off, asking Mom to save her.
She was able to kick her feet up and down, though the fucked-down bathing suit hampered the movement of her legs a little, and she pulled at my hands holding her wrists so hard that I almost couldn't keep hold of them. I couldn't keep my eyes off her bottom. Each time the hairbrush landed with a crisp Smackkk, the springy pale flesh seemed to flatten and then spring up, and at once a very vivid outline of the hairbrush was printed on my younger sister's bare heinie. She twisted her face back around to him, sobbing plaintively and begging him to stop, but he wasn't listening.
The hairbrush kept going up and down each cheek in turn, first the right and then the left, until he reached the top of her hips. I found myself counting. He had given her twenty-five, and believe me, they weren't love taps. Then he stopped, and commanded in a rather hoarse voice, "Now we'll let this impertinent and insolent child stand in the corner and think about her naughtiness while Holly gets her first portion. Pull the suit right off, Edith."
"Oh please, Timothy dear," Mom, pleaded with humid eyes, "It still isn't right. The girls shouldn't be naked in front of a man."
"Are you persisting with that silly argument, Edith? I'll have something to say to you very definitely when I finish with this," he replied in a very harsh voice. "Now go ahead and do as you're told."
Mom blushed, sighed, and then worked the wet bathing suit off my still sobbing sister's legs. She was naked, and her bottom was a fiery red, and she was still kicking her legs up and down and sobbing as if her heart would break.
"Do what you father tells you to, dear," Mom said in a conciliatory voice. "Go over there and stand in the corner with your back to us."
"Oh Mommie, do I have to? I haven't got anything on! I'm so ashamed! I hate him-I still hate him!" Thelma wailed.
"Just keep it up, young lady," Mr. Sturgis interposed, "and you'll find the second portion of your spanking will be harder than the one you've just had. Now do as you're told!"
Thelma was now thoroughly subdued, and slipped down off Mom's lap, bursting into new tears as she went over to stand in the corner, rubbing with both hands at her flaming heinie.
Then Mr. Sturgis turned to glare at Holly, who was very red in the face and looked very apprehensive. She bit her lips, and I saw one of her hands edge back to her saucy, oval bottom as if to protect it from what was about to happen to it.
"Now it's your turn, Holly," he told her. "If you want me to be lenient at all with you, you'll prepare yourself so your mother doesn't have to struggle with you. Take your bathing suit down and pull it just below your bottom, and then get over her lap this minute."
Holly hesitated, and her blushes grew even more vivid. "I told you to be quick about it, didn't I?" he snapped. With a gasp, Holly began to obey, and as she stooped and yanked the moist, clinging bathing suit down to her upper thighs, I could see the damp tendrils of her pussy hair and the jouncy titties dangling in that very provocative pose.
Then swiftly she got across Mom's lap, burying her face in her hands, the muscles of her bottom twitching. Her skin was moist too, and I could see him stare at her bottom as he took position in front of the side of the bed, his left palm pressing down hard on the small of her back and his right lifting the hairbrush over the condemned heinie.
He seemed to stare at her for quite a long time before he brought the hairbrush down, smacking the middle of her oval-shaped seat right over the crease between the cheeks. It really stung, and I heard Holly gasp, and she lifted her face to me, because of course I had to hold her wrists just as I did Thelma's, and her eyes were very wide and her lips quickly tightened, and I knew she was going to try to prove she was stoic and was able to take it.
I was already discovering a lot of things about Mr. Sturgis. One of them was that the more a girl tried to prove how brave she was, the more of a challenge it seemed to be to him to make her cry and really hurt her.
The second smack also took quite some time. He was watching her bottom, and Holly was tightening the muscles of her cheeks and trying to make herself real small. Boy, do I know that feeling.
Anyway, the second smack cracked against the top of her hip and then he gave her another also at the top, but on the right. She kicked up one foot, wriggled a little, glanced back at Mom. She was beginning to breathe quickly and beginning to pull at her wrists in my hands.
Already the three spanks had left bright pink splotches on the pale white-skinned seat and Holly's muscles were tightening up very visibly by now. Mom looked up at Mr. Sturgis, and I thought I saw a beseeching look in her eyes, but he stared back coldly at her, and then she bowed her head without a word. It was plain to see who was the boss of our family!
Down came the hairbrush for the fourth time, landing on the center of Holly's left bottom-cheek. There was a squeal, Holly kicked up first one foot, then the other, wriggled a little. Her eyes were bright with tears, and her nostrils were opening and closing very quickly now. It was evident that the hairbrush on bare wet skin wasn't at all pleasant. Just as I was thinking that, Mr. Sturgis gave her two stinging whacks on the ripest part of each heinie-cheek, and made the flesh very red.
"Ouch! Oohh heavens!" Holly gasped out, and glanced back up at him. Then she turned her face back, bowed it down, closed her eyes and tightened all her muscles. She clenched her legs together, and I could see the muscles of her bottom flinch and shiver.
He didn't hurry at all, not the way he had with poor little Thelma. The hairbrush came down without her being able to know exactly how or when.
He would wait what seemed like a whole minute between spanks, and then give it to her just where the thigh and the bottom cheek met, and then maybe after five or ten seconds, land two or three quick stinging cracks on the lower right cheek, and then pause again and give her two quick ones on the crease of her behind.
I know from experience it hurt a lot more that way than when you can steady yourself and know you are going to get spanked first on one cheek and then on the other in a regular pattern. I was counting for her, too, under my breath. By now she had had twenty-five and her lovely pale-white bottom was a very vivid red. There were splotches here and there that were paler than the others and also little patches of pretty white skin with their rosy flecks. Mr. Sturgis was staring at them, and I knew that when he finished, poor Holly wouldn't have an inch that hadn't been touched up on her poor little sitter.
So far she had managed to keep from begging for mercy. She had called out a couple of times and her voice was nervous and flurried, and there were tears rolling down her cheeks now as I took a firmer grip of her wrists and tried to look sympathetic.
There was a long wait now, after this break of twenty-five, and I saw her glance back quickly, trying to find out how many more he was going to give her. Then again she bent her head down, shifted herself over Mom's lap, and uttered a long, unhappy sigh.
His left hand had slipped now to the edge of her hip and he was leaning closer to her. The hairbrush was falling very quickly now. He was spanking all over her bottom, haphazardly here and there as the whim seized him. That was tough, too, on poor Holly's rear end. She was kicking hard now, her legs flailing, first one and then the other, then both at once, and then back and forth in a kind of thrashing in the air. She began to groan and sob now as he kept on without apparently wanting to stop. Now her hips began to jerk and lift up every time the hairbrush came down. It looked as if she were rubbing off against Mom's lap, and Mom held her tightly, with her left arm around her waist.
Now the count had risen to fifty, and Mr. Sturgis was staring at that oval-cheeked, flaming heinie. You could tell how pale and white Holly's skin was by just looking at her back and legs and then comparing them with her bottom.
Now he stopped and asked in a kind of gloating voice, "Are you beginning to feel sorry for being so impertinent, Holly? It's a very undesirable trait in a young girl, and I'm going to break you of it if we have to go through this every week. Answer me, young lady!"
"Yes, sir, I'm very sorry," Holly mumbled. She didn't look back at him, she just shivered and dug her fingers into her palms and waited.
"You don't sound very sincere to me. Perhaps you aren't really feeling it," he said sarcastically. Now his left palm bore down right on her chinbone, pressing her down hard onto Mom's lap. "Hold on to her good, both of you," he instructed us, and then the hairbrush began to fall again. But this time, raising his arm higher, he brought it solidly down in glancing blows at a kind of angle. The first smack flattened the outer left edge of the base of Holly's bottom and she squealed.
"Ohhhh! Oh, it hurts!" and she kicked up both feet and flailed them back and forth.
"I'm delighted to hear at last that I'm beginning to make some impression on you, young lady," he said with his particular brand of dry, sarcastic humor. "Maybe you'll think twice before you act so impulsively next time." Smack-Crackl Down came the hairbrush, flattening the ripest curve of each bottom globe in turn. Holly gave up her courage at this point and began to cry, her shoulders shaking. Again she kicked both her legs in the air, wildly flailing them and clawing at the air in her suffering. Her bottom was by now very hot to look at. I shivered as I kept hold of her wrists.
Now he seemed to quicken the spanks, all over, just as during the second portion after the pause. And every time the hairbrush came down this time, Holly's head lifted and she bawled out in sobbing cries, "Owww-oh please don't-please don't spank me anymore-I'll be good, Mr. Sturps-PLEASEW
"All right, young lady," he said, and then applied four or five quick stinging little whacks over the backs of her upper thighs which drew squeals and sobs from my naked sister. "Now you can go stand in the corner and think about being a better girl from now on. It's your sister's rum again.
"Oh Mommie! Don't let him do it again. Oh, I couldn't stand any more-oh, that awful hairbrush just about killed me!" came from the corner.
Holly slowly righted herself on the floor, tears running down her face, rubbing her flaming and swollen bottom furiously. She didn't seem to mind showing her pussy to Mr. Sturgis, and I caught him looking at it. It was a kind of glitter in his eyes that made me shiver, and Mom was sitting there, her head bowed, her hands folded in her lap, and her cheeks were just as red as poor Holly's behind.
Both girls were now standing in the corner, but Thelma was summoned back to go over Mr. Sturgis's lap as he sat in the armchair for a handspanking that would "freshen up" her now paling bottom. She pleaded pitifully with him and with Mom to let her off any more, and Mr. Sturgis just grumbled that if she kept on arguing maybe she would prefer to have the hairbrush instead of just his hand.
This brought about a quick decision to surrender, and the sobbing, plumb little blonde draped herself over Mr. Sturgis' lap and underwent about thirty good handspanks which left her wailing for mercy and in frantic tears.
Now Holly was summoned to lie over his lap, and she was stark naked. Her face was contrite and she was still crying, and she knew by now that Mr. Sturgis could be very mean if he wasn't obeyed. So although she was blushing and sobbing, she submissively went over his lap and hid her face in her hands as he pulled her into position just the way he wanted her, tucked her waist in with his left arm and then gave her about twenty-five with his right palm which drew tears and promises to be a very good girl from now on.
Mr. Sturgis then ordered Mom to go get slips for both of my sisters which they were to wear under their bathrobes. Then he sent them both to their rooms and said they would have their supper carried in on a tray. I was then dismissed, and I went back to my room to think over what I had watched.
But about twenty minutes later, I couldn't resist my burning curiosity. I tiptoed down the stairs and walked slowly towards Mr. Sturgis' room. I could hear the smacking of the hairbrush and the muffled tears and sobs of Mom. Once again the door was left open just a crack, and I could see her lying over his lap, her hands tied behind her back, his hands tugging at her hair to pull up her anguished face, while he brought the hairbrush down on her full, big, rounded naked behind.
He was really giving it to her and her hips were bouncing and jouncing all over his lap as she twisted her face and tried to beg off. He had a handkerchief gag in her mouth again, so all she could do was groan and moan and say things which couldn't be understood. And he was lecturing her as if she were a naughty little girl: "The next time, Edith-" Smack! SMACK! "-I tell you that I mean to do something, I don't want any interference, do you understand me?" Smack! Crack! Whack! Thwack! Crack! Smack! "I'm going to have to teach you just as much as I will your girls, because all of you have had your way far too long!" Smackl Crack!
Holding the hairbrush poised, just above Mom's swollen bottom, he demanded, "Now do you think you've learned your lesson. Edith?" and he brought it down twice right over the crease at the base of her bottom. Mom's hips bounced up into the air, and she kicked her legs frantically, and she jerked at her bound wrists and nodded her head frantically, while he still twisted his fingers in her hair, and she made noises that sounded like "Mffffgggoohhhmmmffffggg!"
"Very well. Just see that you do," he remarked. Then he brought down the hairbrush in a last furious swat on her bare tail, right over the crease and the ripest curves, pinching the inner curves of Mom's poor sore heinie together. She let out a frantic wail and kicked her hips madly about and her hips lunged this way and that. Then, tossing the hairbrush aside, he took the gag out of her mouth and she began to whimper and sob, "Oh T-timothy, you-you spanked me so hard-you just about killed me! I'll be a good girl, I promise I will-oh, don't ever spank me so hard again Timothy, please!"
He rolled her over on her back and he flung off his bathrobe, and I saw that he was naked under it, his prick huge and bobbing. Without a word, he grabbed hold of Mom's titties and thrust his big prick right into the furry patch between her squirming widened legs. And then I saw Mom lock her arms and legs around him and crush her mouth against his as she moaned and whimpered "Oh darling, give it to me, oh I need it so, my bottom's on fire-Oh Timothy, I'll do anything you want, anything, now fuck me, oh please fuck me hard and make me come, I need it so!"
I stood there with my mouth agape until at last I had sense enough to turn away and stumble back upstairs to my room. There, the door closed behind me, I flung myself on my bed and shamelessly worked my forefinger inside the crotch of my still-wet bathing suit until I found my pussy and Utile tickler button.
And I closed my eyes and pretended I was being fucked just like that, after my bottom was sore and burning from the hairbrush. And I plunged about and thrashed my hips too, just as Mom had done, because now I knew the strange, exotic mood of pain and pleasure, of humiliation and shame, of utter helplessness before the way of a master. Now I knew why Mom had married Mr. Sturgis and why Mr. Sturgis liked to spank us girls so much. It got him horny for fucking mom!
CHAPTER SEVEN
I won't ever forget my next spanking, because this time it was with the hairbrush and it was the day before my sixteenth birthday, just one week before Labor Day. Don't ask me how I had managed to keep out of trouble with Mr. Sturgis all through the summer, because poor Thelma and Holly had had three more spankings after the swimming episode I've just described. I guess maybe I had gone out of my way to keep out of trouble and been very respectful and tried not to sound sarcastic. That didn't mean I liked him-it just meant that I was nearer to being sixteen and grown up. I was much too old to have my bottom exposed to a nasty man like that and to have him spank it till I cried. I could remember the first time, how humiliated I had been when he finally let me up and held me by the hips and his eyes were looking over everything I had, including my pussy. But the pain had been so much that I hadn't really cared at that point, but now I knew that there was much more to it than just being looked at. Twice I had seen Mom fucking with Mr. Sturgis as if they loved each other dearly, just as I'm sure Daddy had done with Mom. And I couldn't help thinking that in a way she was a traitress to his memory, letting that mean and nasty man who had been so strict with us and humiliated us so much and changed our lives, do it to her. What was worst of all, she even seemed to like it!
Of course, you have to remember that I still hadn't really had any dates or fiddled around with boys or anything, and of course my own darling David hadn't come around. All I knew about sex in real fact was pussy frigging, and that one time when Mr. Sturgis had given me a handspanking and then used his doubled-up belt on my heinie until I had just about fainted.
But now that I had seen Mom being fucked and gripping onto him for all she was worth after a hard spanking that left her poor bottom red as a tomato, I had begun to think all about this. And I began to put two and two together and remembered how Mr. Sturgis had kept poor Holly and Thelma bent over his lap waiting for spanks and had felt their bottoms and looked at them before he brought the hairbrush down on the bare seat again. He tried to act so righteous, when in reality he was a domineering, very randy man.
This knowledge, in one sense, helped me keep out of trouble almost all summer, in fact, almost until my sixteenth birthday. But then I really got it, and that was really the day I knew what would set me off more than anything else in the world. Well, not really, because it wasn't until just before I met my darling David I really could predict all these things, but I sort of knew, if you know what I mean. Anyhow, here's what happened.
It was a Saturday afternoon and my birthday was the next day. Mom and Holly and Thelma had gone into Bismarck to do some shopping, and I guess to pick up some presents for yours truly. Mr. Sturgis was working at the department store, as he did on Saturdays for a while, so I was feeling sort of good about reaching the ripe old age of sixteen and being a grownup lady. Also, of course, I was thinking about school starting the day after Labor Day and how I would be a senior and really grown up. We hadn't talked much about what I would do after that, but I had a notion that perhaps I would go on to a girls' college about a hundred miles away. I was hoping it would work out like that, because that would mean I would have to live away from home and get completely away from Mr. Sturgis. On the other hand, since I really loved my sisters, the thought of being away from them and leaving them to his mercy didn't set too well either. So you might say I was in a sort of quandary.
It was another really hot day, and I decided I would go down for a swim. I put on my one-piece bathing suit and my bathrobe and my sandals, and I went out and had a wonderful swim for myself. I came back about three-thirty, and the house was still empty, and I was really happy about that. I went in and took a shower, put on my bra and panties, and then my slip, and my house slippers. We were going to have a big birthday dinner at a restaurant in town, but that swim had made me awfully hungry. I went to the refrigerator to get a glass of cold milk and some cookies and maybe a piece of the chicken we had had last night. I remember that the air conditioner had broken down and that Mom had said the night before that the service man would come out maybe Monday and fix it. It still felt awfully warm, and I didn't want to lose the nice cool glow of my swim. So I took off my slip and put it over the back of a chair at the kitchen table and sat down there and began to have my little snack.
Just then, Mr. Sturgis walked into the kitchen, and stopped dead in his tracks and gave me a long look.
"Betty Jane, what's this all about?"
I could feel myself blushing all the way down to my titties, and my ears and my forehead too, and I squenched in my chair and paused up against the table, and I sort of faltered, "I was just having a little snack after my swim, Mr. Sturgis, that's all."
"And going about the house flaunting yourself naked, because you thought nobody was home, is that it?" he pursued.
"Well, no. I've got my bra and panties on, and I just took my slip off because the air conditioner isn't working, Mr. Sturgis," I protested.
I was awfully embarrassed. He was staring at me, and I suddenly got an impulse to put my hands over my bubbies, though the bra was big enough to cover them entirely. I was pretty well developed by then, and I was suddenly very much aware of the fact that I was showing a great deal more of myself to him than I wanted to. I was certainly spankable. Yes, that thought entered my mind right away when I saw his mean look.
"You're going to be sixteen tomorrow, aren't you, Betty Jane?"
"Y-yes, sir."
"And I suppose you think you're quite a grownup young lady?"
"Yes, I-I do," I faltered, getting more and more nervous by the minute.
"Now suppose a neighbor had come in to borrow some milk or something and found you sitting here like this? What do you think she would have said to your mother and me? She would have thought you were very fast."
"But there wasn't anyone at home!" I protested.
"That makes no difference. A well trained young lady would think about the possibility that someone might come in. She wouldn't even dream of going about like this, Betty Jane."
"All right, all right, I'll go put a dress on if that'll make you happy," I blurted out. I don't know what made me say a thing like that, nor the cross tone I used, either. All I knew was that the minute it was out of my mouth, I wished it were back. I suppose just like a baseball player who throws fast pitch and knows it's going to be hit out of the park for a home run and wishes it were back but knows it's too late.
"So that's your usual answer, Betty Jane." He was really off on his favorite subject now. "You're supposed to set an excellent example for Holly and Thelma, because you're the oldest, and you think you can get away with murder, don't you? You're still flippant and defiant and you think if y ju do it, it's all right, don't you?"
"No, I don't, sir."
"You know, Betty Jane, it hurt me to have to give you that first spanking some weeks ago, but you don't seem to have improved. You're sort of daring me to do it again."
"Oh, no, I'm not! I'm too old to be spanked," I broke out.
"Correction. You won't be too old for it until you marry and leave this house. Or go on a job and earn your own living and don't have to be dependent upon your mother and me," he amended.
"But that's not fair! I told you I had my slip on too, and I just took it off because it's so warm. Is it my fault the air conditioner isn't fixed yet?" I was so angry now there were tears in my eyes.
"You like to argue, don't you, Betty Jane? And you're usually wrong. I think it's time for your second spanking. Come along with me."
"No! That isn't fair! At least, for heaven's sake, wait till Mom gets back. I didn't do anything wrong, and I've got enough on to cover me," I found myself begging. I was blushing furiously, and I was also scared. I didn't want to be alone with him. And I didn't want him to spank me.
"You're forgetting again that I have complete authority over you, young lady. Are you going to defy me? I hope you don't force me to compel you to accept your punishment. I think you'd be rather sorry for it. Now get up from that chair and follow me to my bedroom this minute, Betty Jane!" he laid down the law.
Then, backing away from the table, he stared at me so coldly that I was really scared. And yet, it was the darned thing. Right at that very moment, scared as I was of having my bottom exposed and paddled, I could suddenly see him and Mom together, I could see Mom's big bottom all red, and I could see her looking back at him in a pleading anguished way, and how finally after he had taken out the gag and stopped spanking her, she had just loved him to death. And I got that shaky, twitching feeling between my legs. I could hardly get up from my chair.
"I gave you an order, Betty Jane. Now get up from that chair and come with me."
"Please, Mr. Sturgis, I didn't mean to be impertinent. Won't you let me off this once?" I heard my voice tremblingly falter and it was very faint. I was holding onto the edge of the table because my legs were all weak.
"I don't intend to let a naughty girl talk herself out of punishment with the promise that she will never do it again. You should know that by now, if only by what happened to you and what's been happening to your sisters. For the last time, are you going to come along without any fuss, or do I have to drag you there? If I do, Betty Jane, you'll really get a thrashing!"
I felt the tears, and I gulped and then I slowly moved behind him as he went toward his bedroom. He stepped aside and let me go ahead of him through the door. My heart sank and my legs were like jelly. And I was staring right at the hairbrush on his dresser. I had seen what it had done to my sisters and to Mom, and I was thoroughly afraid of it. It was going to hurt more than his hand or the belt. I tried once more to plead with him: "Please don't. Tomorrow's my birthday. Won't you please just this once let me off? I'm sorry if I made you angry, Mr. Sturgis."
"Not one of you," he ignored what I was saying to make his own point, "has been polite enough to call me Daddy. Well let that pass. But you, Betty Jane, you're really the key figure here because your sisters look up to you and imitate you. Now go over there and get me that hairbrush and make up your mind that you're going to get a good sound spanking this time, birthday or not."
With this, he settled himself in the chair and stared coldly at me. I started to sniffle as I went over to the dresser, and my hand shook so I could hardly pick up the hairbrush. I was trembling so that I almost dropped it. Then I slowly came back and stood at his left side.
"Get over to my other side first, Betty Jane, and hand the hairbrush to me and tell me what you want me to do with it," he insisted.
So I had to cross over to his other side and stand beside him, and my eyes were swimming in tears. I held out the hairbrush and started to blubber, "Please, Mr. Sturgis, just this once-oh, please!"
"That isn't what I told you, Jo say, young lady.
You're going to get an extra for that," was what he answered. "Now be quick about it, or you'll really be punished in a way you'll never forget!"
That really scared me. I hurried and blurted out, "Pl-please, Mr. S-Sturgis, please take this hairbrush and spank me with it."
"Very well. That's better. Give it to me."
I handed it to him and my heart was pounding wildly as he took it, and my knees felt like jelly.
"All right. Now you can just take your panties down to your knees and get over my lap," he commanded.
I began to cry softly. The idea of preparing my own bottom for that awful hairbrush and being all alone with him was more than I could endure. But I heard him snap, "If I have to take your panties down, Betty Jane, you'll get my belt after the hairbrush. Do you want that?"
"Oh no, s-sir," I wailed. And then and there, forgetting all my shame, I grabbed the waistband of my panties and yanked them down to the middle of my legs and flung myself over his lap in agony. I wanted it to be over, and I wanted to hide myself.
"You still find a way to disobey me even when you're going to get a spanking, don't you?" he chuckled nastily. He reached down and rolled and twisted my panties until they were at my knees. I shivered and tightened the cheeks of my bottom and I was awfully conscious of how big and round they were, and how tender. All I had on now was my bra and my slippers, and I was just dying of shame.
Then his left arm hugged my waist very tightly, so there almost wasn't room to breathe. I reached out for the rungs of the chair to have something to hold onto, and I kept my legs tightly closed. I didn't want him to see my pussy. Then I felt him lay the hairbrush down on the small of my back, and then the most dreadful thing of all: his hand was gliding over my bare behind, from the tops of my thighs up to the tops of my hips, first the right cheek and then the left. Then he actually patted the tops of my hips, and then each cheek. I groaned and begged him, "Oh please, do give it to me and be finished with it, please, Mr. Sturgis!"
I felt his left arm tighten even harder around my waist, and I knew it was going to begin. I took an even tighter grip of the chair rungs and again I told myself I was going to try to hold out. Just the same, all I could think about was that I had just my bra on and a very thin bandeau, so for all intents and purposes, Mr. Sturgis was looking at my naked body, practically all bare from neck to slippers, and I felt oh! so dreadfully ashamed.
Then suddenly the shame vanished because the hairbrush had come down with a dreadful smack against the base of my right heinie cheek, and I kicked up one leg and let out a shrill "Ouch!" My spanking had begun. The second smack hit the base of the other cheek, and I let out a groan. I didn't want to look back at him, because I knew that he was gloating over my shame and my embarrassment and my agony. All I could do was try to clench my legs together and try not to let him see my pussy and get myself all ready for a good hard thrashing. I just hoped I could bear it and wouldn't be a coward, the way Holly and Thelma had become.
After those two first quick, hard spanks, he waited for what seemed a century, shifted me on his lap, made sure my panties were down the way he wanted them, then gave me two quick stingers on the tops of each hip. They weren't too bad to take, but I could still feel the pain of those two first whacks, though. The heat seemed to spread through my poor heinie.
Then the hairbrush began to rise and fall again in a real quick pattern again, first the right cheek and then the left. It sort of took me by surprise, and I crossed and uncrossed my legs, shifted my hands on the rungs of the chair, raised my head a little, and groaned in spite of myself. The hairbrush came down with a crisp crack, and the heat began to become intolerable. Then he stopped for a minute, and gave me a little lecture-that was one of his favorite tricks when he was spanking a girl.
"You know, Betty Jane, I'm sorry to have to do this to you on the day before your birthday. But your sisters look up to you because you're the oldest, they imitate you, and all this time you've led them against me.
"That's not true, Mr. Sturgis." I was shivering, and I wished the heaven he would get it over with and my bottom was aching and burning and smarting, and I knew he hadn't even really started.
"But it is true, Betty Jane. You may as well make up your mind to it, as long as you're under my roof and eating my food and depending on my support, you and your sisters, yes, and your mother too, all of you are going to learn proper discipline. When you're married or earning your own living and living away from here, then you may do as you choose. But I suspect that if you keep wanting to have your own way all the time, you'll land in a good deal of trouble. And now I'm going to go on spanking you. Get ready."
He had put the hairbrush on the small of my back when he was giving his little pep talk, and when I felt it coming, I bent my head and plunged it way down. That tightened the skin of my poor smarting bottom, but I just wanted it over with.
The next spank was a terrible one, right over the crease of my two cheeks, and I let out a yell. "OWW!" and I kicked up both my legs up and waved them around in the air. Hardly had I got my feet back on the ground when the hairbrush was landing again, this time on the top of my right hip, and then another one over on the other side. They both stung, and I groaned and sobbed. I hated myself for letting him know he was hurting me, but I just couldn't help it. This hairbrush was much, much worse than the belt and his hand had been, believe you me!
I got squirmed away to the edge of his lap, so he stopped a minute, tightened his grip on my waist and pulled me back onto his lap, tapped my bottom with the hairbrush on the right side, and then brought it down on that very same spot. I felt the flesh flatten and then spring up, and I let out a yell: "EEEEOWUUUU!! Oh please, not so hard!" even though I hadn't meant to do it. I crossed my ankles, and dug down with my slippered toes against the floor. My hands were already getting sweaty and I tightened them against the rung of the chair. All my muscles were standing out, and my bottom was growing awfully warm. It hurt most of all down at the base where those first two spanks had landed.
With a hairbrush or a cane, I've found that the smarting and the burning last an awfully long time and seem to spread until you'd think every part of your heinie has been spanked, even though that isn't so.
"I hope you're thoroughly ashamed of yourself, a big grownup girl like you having to be over my lap for a spanking," he scolded, and he rubbed the back of the hairbrush all over my naked, cringing bottom. "You've got much too quick a tongue and you like to sass people. I know you and your sisters haven't accepted me enough to call me Daddy. Well, I'm not going to force you to do that, Betty Jane, but you're going to respect and obey me. Do you understand that?" And before I could answer ... Crack!! down came that hairbrush right over the crease of both my heinie cheeks, and I really howled.
"Aahrrr! Yes, yes, Mr. Sturgis, I understand you! Oh, don't spank so hard, please!"
As if to answer me in his own sadistic way, he again readjusted his hold, this time his arm gripping me just above the edge of my right hip. I could feel his hand just above the edge of my bare belly and reaching out to my left side, and I shivered because I didn't like the touch of him. And my poor bottom was scorching by now, believe it or not. That hairbrush was just dreadful.
And before I could get my breath, the hairbrush began to fall again, and this time it was right, left, right, left, without even stopping between spanks, starting at the tops of my hips and working down to the tops of my thighs. I lost all of my pride and, I'm ashamed to confess, all my resolution to keep from telling him how much it hurt. I clenched my fists and kicked my legs in the air, I even once tried to reach back and cover up, but he was ready for me. The minute I did that, he pulled his left hand out from under my belly, grabbed both wrists behind my back and pinned them there, and then he shifted his right leg out from under my loins and clamped it over both my calves.
Then the hairbrush resumed its awful work. I could feel the flesh of my bottom flatten down and then seem to spring back, and I seemed to spring with it. My body jerked and leaped every time the hairbrush came down, the spanks were just as quick, but they seemed harder, as if the whole flat of the brush were being indented deep down into my flesh. I threw back my head and I wailed and I begged for him to stop. I cried and howled and told him I wouldn't ever sass him again and I was sorry, and I begged him please, please to stop. Then he paused a minute, laid the hairbrush down on the small of my back and sat there with me on his lap while I sobbed it out. The pain was intense, and then suddenly I began to feel something very hard rubbing against my tummy and then my pussy.
I was fighting for breath, because I had been sobbing so loud and hard. I had crossed my legs and uncrossed them, I was rubbing my thighs together, and I was trying frantically to disperse the heat that was just scorching my poor heinie to pieces. And all these twists and wriggles made me rub against his cock-for that was what it was all the time.
"Do you think maybe you can be a good girl from now on and show more respect and obedience from now on?" he was asking.
I blinked my eyes to clear away the tears and whimpered, "Oh yes, don't do it any more, oh please, you hurt me so much, Mr. Sturgis. I-IT! be good!"
"I'm going to give you ten more spanks, Betty Jane, and I'm going to count them for you. I want you to be thinking all the time how good you're going to be. Remember, because you're the oldest, you have to set the example. Here it comes, now get ready for it!"
Tightening his grip on my wrists and exerting all the muscular strength of his legs over my calves, Mr. Sturgis gave me the first right over the crease of my poor bummy, right over the middle where it hurt the most. I yelled and bucked up, twisted and tried to spring loose, but it did no good.
"Ohhhh! Oh please, you're killing me!"
"Two!" The hairbrush landed right on the edge of my right hip, and I screamed out again. Tears were running down my face and I was fighting for breath.
"Three!" Crack! This on the other hip, and I tried to kick and twist and wriggle. All I succeeded in doing was rubbing my pussy up against his stiff cock. The heat in my bottom was absolutely ferocious, and it seemed as if I couldn't get my breath at all.
"Four!" Smack! This time over the base of my right heinie cheek and I broke out crying: "Boohoo, please, Mr. Sturgis, please, I'll be so good! I'll obey, I won't sass you, but for heaven's sake do let up, you're killing me!"
"Five!" Thwack! This one landed on the base of my left heinie cheek, and I began to cry again and twist and wriggle.
He took a cruel delight in prolonging the end of my spanking. The last five spanks, I swear, took almost five minutes to administer, and he had some comments to make all the time, right up to the time he landed that awful hairbrush on my blazing, swollen rear end for the last time.
Finally it was over, and he said, "All right, Betty Jane, I'm sorry I had to be so severe with you, but a great deal does depend on the example you set. Just remember that. Now I want you to go to your room, get your pajamas, put them on and come back here. Then I'll take you back to your room and you'll stay there the rest of the evening. I'll have your mother bring you up some supper."
With this he helped me up. I was so weak in the legs and crying so, I just surrendered myself. He got a grip on my hips and helped me up, and I saw he was staring at my pussy. I really didn't care. All I could think of was the terrible pain in my poor bottom.
Sniffling, my hands rubbing my fiery behind, I hobbled upstairs to my room where I got my pajamas. I came back down right away, although I was weak in the knees and by now the tickling in my pussy was just terrible. It was as hot and itchy as my bottom felt. But at least it was distracting me from the awful pain he had kindled there with that awful black wooden hairbrush.
When I came in, I guess it must have been a little sooner than he expected. He was sitting there in the straight-backed chair, the hairbrush over his crotch, to hide his cock. He glanced up at me and then his eyes widened and then he went red in the face. "That's fine," he said hastily. "Now you can go right back to your room and stay there. Your mother can bring your supper. And I sincerely hope, Betty Jane, that starting tomorrow, when you're sixteen, you'll make new resolutions about being a very good obedient girl so this won't have to happen again."
"Yes, sir," I mumbled. But as I made to leave the room and begin that painful ascent to my own room, I knew perfectly well that this would not be the last time at all and as soon as he could think of a reason, Mr. Sturgis was going to lambaste my bare behind. Because now I knew a great deal more than I ever had. You might say that the day before my sixteenth birthday, I actually learned the real facts of life. I knew that Mr. Sturgis liked to spank me, and because I wasn't his own flesh and blood and I was the oldest of the girls and best developed, he was looking at me that way he had at Mom. That was why he had taken so much time preparing me, shifting me this way and that, making sure my panties were just where he wanted them, stopping to lay the hairbrush on my back and scold me, taking so much time between spanks, feeling my bare seat, and then staring at my bare seat the way he had.
And that night, long after everyone else in the house had gone to sleep, I frigged myself again and I was thinking all sorts of naughty thoughts, and I found myself horrified to discover that the one that recurred most was that of being in Mr. Sturgis' room, in his bedroom, and he was spanking me and gagging me and then fucking me. And-and I was fucking him back-just the way Mom had done!
CHAPTER EIGHT
Thank goodness school started the next week, so Holly, Thelma and I had plenty to keep our minds occupied without thinking all the time about Mr. Sturgis, and the way he liked to spank us girls.
Of course there were readjustments because it was a brand new school for all three of us. Thelma and Holly were sort of unhappy because they missed all their friends in the little rural town where we had been living until Mom remarried, but I was looking forward to high school here in Bismarck. I felt lots older and wiser, just after a few days which turned me from fifteen to the mature age of sixteen. But most of all, as I looked back now, I know it was that day-before-birthday spanking with the hairbrush that Mr. Sturgis gave me on my bare seat and the knowledge that he was treating me and looking at me not as if I were a daughter so much, but more a very attractive young girl for whom he got a hard-on every time he had to take me over his lap.
I had thought of telling Mom the way I felt, but I decided against it. She practically had become a zombie, or what I really mean is someone who just about went around in a trance doing everything she was told and hardly ever questioning or wanting to have her own way as she had done before. Only I knew why. Thelma and Holly kept asking me very plaintively why Mom seemed to be so different and didn't care about them any more and left all the decisions up to Mr. Sturgis. They really hated him, but at least they were trying hard not to get another spanking. And for the first couple of weeks of school, they succeeded. Holly knew that her worst fault was her thoughtless tongue, and I had also learned that if I stopped to argue anything, I would very quickly be judged guilty of sarcasm and, because I was the very oldest, humiliatingly turned bottoms-up over his lap and spanked most ignominiously.
Also, I didn't tell Mom the way I felt the two times he had spanked me, how my pussy had started to tickle and I had had to frig myself before I could get over the dreamy, weak, and shivery feeling that took possession of me. The heat of the spanking was always associated with that intense sensation. Of course I know all about it now, but it was just so very new to me then, and bewildering. And then that night before my birthday when I had frigged myself to sleep and seen in my dream-image stern Mr. Sturgis gagging and tying me up and pulling my knees up against my titties and giving my bare heinie the hairbrush and then fucking me, just the way I had seen him do with Mom-that was the most alarming and scary thing of all.
But in the first week of October, when we all three got our first grade notices from our home room teachers, Mr. Sturgis took over his role as family disciplinarian with a vigor that more than made up for the several weeks of idleness, believe you me!
It was a Friday afternoon and sort of chilly. But it was going to be warm awfully quick, and Thelma and Holly got that feeling as soon as they came home from school, because Mr. Sturgis and Mom were sitting on the couch in the living room waiting for them to come in with these first reports. I came in just a few minutes later, just in time to see them both sniffling and rubbing their eyes, while Mr. Sturgis was shaking his finger at them and lecturing them about what a bad start they had made at the new school and how it appeared that they had been much too lackadaisical all summer long and needed a "refresher course" in proper behavior. My own report wasn't too bad, if I do say so myself, and Mr. Sturgis interrupted everything to ask me for it. He glanced at it, then nodded: "That's more like it, Betty Jane. You help me with your sisters. They're both going to get a spanking. We'll go to my bedroom."
Then Holly spoke up: "Oh gosh, is that the only way you can punish us girls, Mr. Sturgis? Can't you stop our allowance, or not let us see movies, or something? I was talking to the other girls in school, and I don't think any of the others get spanked the way we do. It's not fair, it's not!"
And then Thelma, who always had to chime in at the wrong time, spoke up and in a sort of crybaby voice, said, "She's right, Mommie, my chums in class don't get spanked either, and I was so embarrassed then they asked me if I did and I had to say yes."
Thelma was decidedly growing up fast, and the one thing she had to learn-apart from not eating between meals-was talking out of turn. She hadn't learned it yet, that was evident, because Mr. Sturgis just glowered at her, and said, "Watch out, young lady, you've already got one spanking coming, and I could just as easily as not make it two for impertinence. Now come along with you!"
But this time, he had a new wrinkle for punishing them. Thelma being the youngest was going to go first. He had her take off her dress and petticoat, then lower her panties all by herself. Meanwhile, Holly, her face very red and trying her best not to cry because she was getting close to fourteen, was ordered to lower her panties to her knees but keep the rest of her clothes on until further orders, and to stand in the corner with her back turned to us. This done, Mom sat on the edge of the bed and pulled poor sobbing Thelma over her lap and made her stretch at full length along the bed. I was commissioned once again to hold my youngest sister's wrists, and I got on the bed on my knees to do it. Mom, at Mr. Sturgis' instructions, put her left hand against Thelma's bare right side and her right hand against my sister's bare right knee, so that Thelma wouldn't wriggle out of position when the spanking came. Then Mr. Sturgis gave her a "warm-up"-that was what he called it-with his hand, about twenty slaps to each chubby pink-sheened heinie cheek, and she was already crying and kicking and squirming. Then the hairbrush came into play and this time poor Holly was ordered to go bring it. Very red in the face, biting her lips and lowering her eyes, she sort of hobbled over to the bed and handed him the hairbrush, because her lowered panties were getting in the way of walking properly. "Since you're here, you may as well watch this from close range, young lady, because you're next," he told her. "Now you can lift up your skirt and petticoat to your waist and keep them up until I call you over to get across your mother's lap."
Holly uttered a soft little groan and the tears started to roll down her cheeks as she haltingly tugged up her clothes. She kept her legs tightly clenched, and it was obvious she was trying to hide as much of her pussy as she could from his eyes. Just out of curiosity, I glanced over at her, and I could see that she was getting a little more hair there. Yes, she was growing up too. We all were!
Mr. Sturgis stood over at Thelma's left, with Holly over on his right, and thus he had the entire range of my youngest sister's bare heinie and legs at his disposal. He patted the chubby, already reddened cheeks, and told Thelma that she was going to get twenty-five spanks and that he sincerely hoped that the next report would be vastly improved. She was already promising it would be when the hairbrush landed right over the crease of both plump round cheeks and made her wail and beg Mom to tell him not to spank so hard, she couldn't stand it.
She really squirmed and wriggled as he laid it to her. He didn't hurry at all. I found myself counting between spanks, and at one point I got up to forty-eight, which meant forty-eight seconds between spanks. Take it from me, Mr. Harding, and I know from my own experience, that the waiting between one spank and the next can be punishment in itself. Your heinie is burning and throbbing and you just don't think you can stand any more without breaking down like a big crybaby, and at the same time you're wishing desperately that the spank would fall so it would be that much closer to being over, and all of a sudden it does and the pain is so much worse than you thought it would be that you almost want to break away and run, only you know you can't and don't dare.
By the time he had finished, Thelma's behind was blazingly red, and awfully hot-looking, and she was crying at the top of her 'voice and shuddering and wriggling wildly in spite of Mom's holding onto her. I could see that Mom was trembling a little, and that she was breathing rather quickly and her face was flushed. And only I knew why, I and Mr. Sturgis, and of course Mom, naturally.
Mr. Sturgis gave Thelma a little lecture and then told Mom to let her up and ordered Thelma to go over to the corner and stand there with her red bottom turned towards us and her panties still clinging round her knees. We could hear her sobbing and sniffling as Mr. Sturgis now looked sternly at Holly and commanded, "Now you can take your dress and petticoat off, young lady, and get just where your sister was, and be quick about it! You have a little extra coming for impertinence, remember!"
"Please, Mr. Sturgis, I didn't mean to be fresh," Holly tried to apologize at the fatal moment, "but it's true, there aren't many kids at school who get spanked the way Thelma and I do! Won't you please think it over and maybe punish us some other way? I think we'd both be better and work harder at pleasing you if you just wouldn't spank us all the time."
"The mere fact that spanking frightens you and shames you so much, Holly, is precisely the reason I intend to keep on doing it to you whenever you deserve it," was his immediate reply. "I'm waiting for you, young lady!"
"Oh, lordie," Holly moaned, and passively began to pull up her clothes. Her titties were really beginning to develop into very firm, thrusting young pears, and Mr. Sturgis noticed that too as he swept her slim, pale-white-skinned body with a narrowed look. Since her panties were already down, all she had left on was her bra and of course her bobby sox and her loafers. She obediently bent across Mom's lap, stretched her long legs out on the bed, and extended her clasped hands out beyond her head on the other side and closed her eyes and was ready. Mom tucked in her side and put her other hand on Holly's right knee just as she had done with Thelma. The oval cheeks twitched and shrank a little as Holly got herself ready for what was always a shameful and painful ordeal. I don't know why it is, but somehow, about midway through a spanking, and no matter how grownup a girl is, she begins to forget about what she's showing and her shame and pride and all she can think of is the heat in her bottom and how she'll do just about anything to have it stop. At least that's the way it is with me.
This time, Mr. Sturgis drew up a chair and sat down, and Holly shivered, anxious to get it over with as soon as possible. I could share her feelings. I held onto her wrists as tightly as possible, and I watched my stepfather's face. I could see the glitter in his eyes as he contemplated the twitching, shrinking, and still very pale-white skinned bare heinie and long supple thighs waiting for color to be put into their satiny contours. Holly's eyes were screwed tightly shut, and all her body was like a coiled spring as die tensed her muscles and kept her legs tightly clenched to hide pussy from him. He put his left hand on the back of her left thigh just below the base of her bottom, and Holly wasn't expecting that and uttered a little "Ohh!" and glanced nervously back to see what he was doing. Just then his right hand came down with a hard smack on the very center of her right bottom cheek, and she gasped out again and then pressed herself down as flat as she could against Mom's lap. The spank left a bright pink splotch visibly outlined on her pale white skin with those lovely rosy flecks.
He spanked her in a much more leisurely way than he had Thelma. There was something about her tomboyish, saucy, almost challenging young body and attitude and personality that seemed to rile him deep down inside. I have a pretty good feeling that if she had been a few years older, he would have thought about her the way he did about me, but again I'm getting ahead of my story, and I know that's going to mean a little session with David after you've gone, Mr. Harding. Oh my, I just can't seem to keep my big mouth shut at the right time, can I? Now where was I?
Oh yes. He gave her thirty hard spanks with his hand, fifteen to each cheek, and he took nearly half an hour to do it. I know because I could see the big clock on the wall to one side of his dresser. Holly was crying, not loudly, but you could tell she was sincere about it. Her bottom was very red, and it stood out in the most exciting way against the paleness of her back and legs. At about the twentieth, she started to wriggle her behind, and she kept it up all through the rest of the spanking, twisting this way and that, sometimes lifting herself up and then forcing herself right back down on Mom's lap at a particularly hard smack.
When he had finished with the hand spanking, Mr. Sturgis passed his right palm over her flinching, scarlet heinie, and said, "I'll let you have two minutes rest before I give you the remainder of your punishment, Holly. Just he there and think about it, and maybe your next report will not only be better, but you'll have learned how to curb that tongue of yours."
Holly sniffled and squirmed about, and finally was able to control herself by the time the two minutes were up. Just the same, she glanced nervously around when she saw him pick up the hairbrush which he had dropped on the floor after finishing with Thelma. Thelma had just about quieted down too from her comer, and she was peeking around to watch Holly get hers. I shook my head warningly at her, because Mr. Sturgis was just the sort of man who might look upon that as a defiance of his order and sentence my blonde little sister to an extra dose.
"Time's up, Holly. Get ready," Mr. Sturgis said as he laid the flat of the hairbrush right across the narrow crease between her reddened, oval heinie globes. Holly sucked in her breath audibly, bent down her head, twisted her fingers together very tightly till the knuckles went white, and tightened her legs and all her muscles to get ready. But Mr. Sturgis, as I said, had a new wrinkle. He said to Mom, "Count out thirty, Edith. The time will come when I'll expect these naughty girls to count out their own spanks, but this once you may do it for the girl."
"Yes, T-Timothy," Mom quavered. She also had tightened her grip on Holly's leg and side, and looked up at him anxiously. He had crossed his legs, was leaning forward with his left hand again on the back of Holly's bare thigh, and then he lifted up the hairbrush and brought it down real hard over the crease in the center of her bottom.
Mom's "one" was drowned out by Holly's sudden "Yiiiieeowww! Oh, that hurts so! Oh, Mommie, it hurts so!"
Her bottom had jumped under the spank, and squirmed over to the edge of the bed. Mom quickly pulled her back up against her, and glanced nervously at Mr. Sturgis. Yes, there was no doubt about who was boss in this family. All the independence and sassiness that Mom had had in the past had vanished. Mr. Sturgis had imposed his will and strength on her, and she was actually a grownup slave, not really a wife.
The hairbrush rose slowly now, as if Mr. Sturgis were picking a place on Holly's already reddened hind end. I could see my sister's muscles tightening up, in that awful anticipation of the next spank. And then it came down with a hard, noisy smack on the base of her right cheek, and this time both her feet kicked up and her loafers flew off, as she yowled "Owwwouuu! Oh please, not so hard, oh it's awful, it's killing me!"
"Two!" Mom counted, and her voice was trembling and faint.
The spanking went on. Mom did manage to give Mr. Sturgis a few imploring looks to ask for mercy for my red-haired sister, but he ignored them. And he didn't hurry. He seemed to be interested in the coloration he was putting into Holly's burning bare seat with each new spank, and so the pauses between spanks drew out more and more as he neared the last dozen or so. Holly was crying very hard now, and her fingernails were scrambling at the rumpled sheets of the bed, and finally, when the twenty-first blow of the black wooden hairbrush cracked against the base of her left bottom cheek, she screamed and lunged back with both hands to comer it up and burst into hysterical tears, "Oh please, oh please, don't spank me any more, oh please, Mr. Sturgis, I'll be a good girl, I won't ever do it again, just let me off, I just can't stand it, my bottom hurts so, please!"
Up to now I hadn't been called on to hold Holly's wrists the way I had Thelma's. But now Mr. Sturgis looked up at me, his face flushed and his eyes sparkling, and he ordered: "Betty Jane, get hold of your sister's wrists and keep a tight grip on them. For that, the count is going back to ten."
"Oh noooo!! Oh not so many, I'll die, oh, I can't stand it, oh Mommie, please have him stop, I'll be a good girl, I promise I will, I won't talk or make him angry, I'll get better grades, but oh please, for golly sakes, not any more!" Holly sobbed frantically. I moved over on my knees and grabbed hold of her wrists and dragged her arms back beyond her head, and then crouched down and held them tightly. She looked up at me, her face red and wet with tears, and then she buried her face in the sheets and began to cry very hard as Mom readjusted her hold and Mr. Sturgis patted her flaming bottom with that wicked old hairbrush. Then Smack! The hairbrush came down on the top of her right hip, and Mom counted out in a quavering voice, "Eleven!"
And that was how it went. It was all I could do to hold Holly's wrists and Mom to hold her legs and side from then on. She weaved her blazing behind this way and that, she arched off Mom's lap and frantically tried to throw herself off the bed several times, showing her pussy and not caring one little bit. Her head flung back, and her mouth was gaping and her white teeth were gleaming and her eyes were very wide and glassy with tears as the hairbrush kept falling with its wicked, crisp thwacks all over her swollen, angrily red bottom. And then at last it was over, and she lay there panting and choking and trying to get her breath, her shoulders shaking, her toes squirming and digging into the sheets, and her fingernails clawing at her own palms. It was really a very hard spanking, a lot more than she deserved, because her grades had just been about a C-plus.
But he wasn't finished with her yet. He lectured her as he always does when he spanks a girl, and then he told her to go stand in the corner opposite Thelma for half an hour. He sent me to my room, and then he looked at Mom and said sternly, "Come along, Edith, I want to talk to you."
I didn't have to sneak down to the first floor then. I had a pretty good idea what was going to happen. Because, as he turned away from the chair, I caught a glimpse of the fly of his trousers, and his prick was bulging out. He was probably going to spank Mom hard on her bare behind and then fuck her like crazy. I knew that look, and I knew from the shivering way she went, her cheeks very red, and her eyes meekly lowered, that she knew it, too ... her eyes meekly lowered, that she knew it, too.
I managed rather successfully to avoid any private sessions with Mr. Sturgis till the first week of November. And even that time really wasn't my fault, as I look back. Just the same, it cost me a particularly painful spanking, and it further taught me that my stepfather was thinking of me in a somewhat unholy way. First of all, Mom had come down with a slight virus, and Mr. Sturgis had thought it best to have her go to the hospital where she could get proper rest. That left all three of us under his charge, and I can tell you that we were really on our toes to keep from irritating him. There wasn't any doubt that he was concerned about Mom, I had to give him credit for that. He made us visit the hospital and bring her flowers and stay a few minutes and chat about what was going on at school and so on just to keep her spirits up. But on Saturday noon, just before she came back from the hospital on the following Monday, I was going out to the store as he told me to when he called me back and handed me another little list including some shaving cream and razor blades and things for him at the drug store after I had finished marketing.
I did everything right at the grocery store, and I was just heading to the drug store when along came Tommy Pastor. He was a tall, black-haired, seventeen-year-old senior at my high school, and I had begun to notice him quite a bit the last few months. He had a nice pleasant smile, he wasn't too fresh, and he didn't have the usual conceit that so many good looking fellows do when they know that the girls are after them. And they were really after Tommy. I must confess I had a few secret longings for him myself, but nothing had really come of them. First of all, Mr. Sturgis had laid down the law that I wasn't to date until I was seventeen, and then only with his permission and I had to bring the boy home for inspection. So that meant almost another full year. All the same, I wouldn't have minded sneaking out for a date with Tommy and doing a little necking just about then. You see, having seen what I had seen, of Mom and Mr. Sturgis together, and having felt that funny tickling in my pussy the times he had spanked me on my bare heinie, I had begun to do a little frigging all by myself at night and closing my eyes and pretending that a nice handsome fellow was giving it to me. It wasn't the sort of thing I could tell Mr. Sturgis about, that was for certain; and as for Mom, I had come to the conclusion that there wasn't any point looking to her for help or advice any more, she was so completely under his domination.
Anyway, to make a long story short, Tommy offered to carry my bags of groceries, which was darned nice of him. We got to talking, and just then I remembered the drug store list. He had a car and said he'd drive me home, and since it was a cold, blowy day, I was only too glad to take advantage of the invitation. I got the things at the drug store, but I guess in my excitement I forgot Mr. Sturgis' razor blades. Then I got in, and Tommy said something about how nicely I decorated his car, and that I really owed him something for the ride. I giggled and said, I guess I did at that. So what'd the big lout do but go ahead and kiss me right there in broad daylight with people gawking on the street. It was nice, though, and I blushed a lot, and then I gasped that he'd better drive me right home.
But disaster had struck. Mrs. Elton, a gossipy old widow who lived about two blocks from us, had happened to be on the curb when lover boy pulled his little forfeit stunt. And what did she do but go ahead and telephone Mr. Sturgis, because of course she knew that Mom was in the hospital and she probably thought that I was running wild with only one parent to look after me. And believe you me, that one parent was far too much!
Because when I got home, after Tommy had dropped me at the house, and very gallantly again helped me with my packages to the door, it was opened right away and there was Mr. Sturgis glaring at us both. "Come in here at once, Betty Jane," he snapped. "And you, young man, I'll say her thanks to you and tell you that my stepdaughter is much too young to be out with boys, so you'll oblige me by not being with her again where people can see you and let me know. Is that understood?"
Tommy Pastor stared at Mr. Sturgis, shook his head, and then mumbled, "Yeah, sure." And then to me, "Sorry, Betty Jane, I didn't mean to get you in any trouble with your old man." Then he got back into the car and drove off. Mr. Sturgis stooped down and got the sacks of groceries, walked into the kitchen with me following very slowly and with an awfully sinking feeling in the pit of my tummy. He set them down, and then he asked me if I had remembered to bring back the things from the drug store. They were in a small bag in the second grocery sack, and I said so. He pulled it out, went through them, and then asked me what I had done with his razor blades. I clamped my hand to my mouth and I gasped, "Oh gosh, I guess I must have forgotten them. I'm real sorry-I'll go back and get them, though."
"No, you won't, Betty Jane. I had a phone call a few minutes ago. I was told that my oldest stepdaughter was kissing a boy in public on the downtown streets of Bismarck. I can understand why you forgot the razor blades. It's a wonder you remembered everything else. Didn't I tell all you girls something about dating some weeks back?"
"Yes, s-sir. But I wasn't dating him! I was in the grocery store, and he happened to be there and he offered me a lift home and with all that stuff I thought it would be a good idea. He went ahead, he just went ahead and said that I owed him a kiss for driving me, and he went ahead and did it. I didn't do anything about it, honest I didn't, Mr. Sturgis!"
"Fibbing isn't going to get you out of this, Betty Jane. According to my informant, that young man has quite a reputation with girls. He's some sort of football hero or something at your school, isn't he?"
"Yes, sir. But honest, Mr. Sturgis, I didn't do anything wrong."
"I'll decide what you've done right or wrong, Betty Jane. Now come along to my room."
"Oh no! not a spanking!" I wailed, my eyes filling with tears.
"Yes, young lady, a spanking. I'm disappointed in you. You had been doing rather well until now, since the last time we had that painful meeting. But apparently, old as you are, you need an occasional reminder of that your obligations are to your mother and me and how you must keep our name without a smirch when you're in the public eye."
"But, Mr. Sturgis, it's not fair, truly it isn't!" I was nearly in tears now. "I didn't kiss him, he kissed me. I didn't even know he was going to do it. Was it my fault somebody saw, some nasty old snoop who had to go ahead and call you? I can just bet who it was, too, and..."
"That will do!" His voice was really cutting like a whiplash. "Insulting isn't going to get me to overlook your misconduct and your forgetfulness. Now you come with me!" And with this, he grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me to his bedroom.
I was sobbing openly then, because I was so ashamed and it was so unfair. He closed the door, and then he told me, "Now you take off your dress and slip, Betty Jane. If you're humble and obedient and do what I tell you to, I won't be quite so severe with you, even though the offense is very serious. Now obey me!"
I was just about paralyzed, but I didn't once think of resisting, strangely enough. I found myself stooping and pulling up my dress, and my slip under it, and dragging them both off my head, then I stood there, tears blurring my eyes, not knowing exactly what to do with my clothes. "Lay them over the foot of the bed," he said rather impatiently. He was standing facing me, and his face was hard and taut and flushed, and his eyes had that peculiar glow I had seen when he was looking at Holly's naked, wriggling bottom under the hairbrush.
"Oh no! Not a spanking!" I wailed, my eyes filling with tears. He was dry and didactic, as if a professor lecturing in class, "I intend for you to learn docility. You will need it in later life, because one day you will marry, and most likely a man who is aggressive and masterful. From what I know of your character already, I should say that was a foregone conclusion."
I blushed through my tears, and I bent my head and stared unhappily at the floor. I was in my white nylon bra and matching panties, with a white narrow garter belt hooking up my flesh-colored nylon stockings, and a pair of low-heeled shoes. There was already a little snow around Bismarck, and pumps were very impractical. I had taken off my galoshes at the front door.
I started to shiver now as his eyes swept over me, and I wondered miserably what he had in store for me.
"This time," he finally announced, "I'm going to teach you how to accept punishment docilely, in line with my opinion about your character. You are going to prepare yourself. You are going to count every spank. Is that understood?"
"Y-yes, s-sir," I quavered very faintly.
"You understand," he went on, spinning it out all he could while my heart began to thud and my throat was awfully dry, "that depending on how properly you show yourself to be submissive and obedient, your punishment will be moderate or severe. Are you ready now?"
"Y-yes, but please, Mr. Sturgis, honestly, I didn't lead him on or anything like that."
"We are past that stage of discussion, Betty Jane," he admonished me in a very stern voice. "I simply asked you if you were ready. If you are, then you will lower your panties to your knees, unhook the tabs of your garter belt and tuck them in front at the waistband, and then place yourself across my lap and ask me to spank you for your naughtiness."
This was even more shameful than I had thought it would be, and I began to sniffle as I slowly inserted my fingers in the waistband of my panties and began to tug them down. He had seated himself on that straight-backed chair, and was waiting for me. From the position in which he w is with me at his right, he was glaring at my slowly revealed honey haven.
I knew the punishment could be a lot worse if I didn't do what he told me to. But he made me overcome my embarrassment, and so I was able, now, to drag my panties down to my knees, stooping a little and feeling my big round titties thrust out against the thin bra. I had never been so conscious of my body as I was at that moment, believe me, Mr. Harding!
As in a kind of dream I moved slowly towards him, laid myself down over his lap, and then feverishly stammered, "PI-please, Mr. S-Sturgis, spank me for being n-naughty."
'That was very well done, Betty Jane," he complimented me. "And now another thing. I am not going to hold you with either my arm or with my leg over yours, to test your ability to endure correction. I am going to give you forty good hard spanks on your behind with my hand."
"Ohhh!" I groaned, reaching down and grabbing hold of the lowest rung of the chair, and knowing all too miserably that my big bare bottom was upturned and very, very defenseless.
I had unhooked the tabs to my stockings and thrust them inside the snug elastic band round my waist, so that all I had on for all practical purposes was my stockings and shoes and the thin strapped bra. I was just about naked over my stepfather's lap, and it was a strange feeling this time because, just as he had said, he didn't put his left arm round me or pin my legs with his.
"Are you ready, Betty Jane?" he asked, and then I felt his hand moving over my naked heinie, rubbing the cheeks gently, gliding here and there from the base of my bottom to the tops o my hips and back again. My bare skin was rippling and my muscles were flexing, and I squirmed uneasily, my face very red with shame.
"Yes, yes, sir," I could hardly hear my own voice, and my heart by now was pounding like a trip hammer.
"Remember to count each spank, then," he warned. I bent my head way down, closed my eyes real tight, took firm hold of the chair rung, and waited. The muscles of my thighs were clenched as hard as they could be, because I had just felt his hand lift off my bottom and Mr. Harding!
Then I had that terrible wait for the first spank, which never fails to make my juices flow and my heart to pound and my pulses to race. All during the time I wait, I'm thinking of what it's going to be like, how long it's going to be, whether I can stand it and how I'm going to act. It seemed forever before finally his hand came down hard on the lower right cheek of my heinie, and the anticipation alid all that waiting made my voice sort of high-pitched as I called out "One!"
The second one followed almost at once, before I had just about got the syllable out of my mouth, landing on the other cheek at the same place. I squirmed a little, kicked up one foot, and called out "Two!"
There was a prickling of heat, but it wasn't really unpleasant. I shivered a little, and I kept my eyes very tightly shut. He had kept his word; he wasn't holding me at all. He was leaving it to me to stay over his lap and take my spanking bravely without a fuss, and it gave me a sort of mixed-up feeling, if you know what I mean.
The third spank took a long time to fall, and it hit the base of my heinie at the right, and was followed by one on exactly the same spot on the left. I called them out, my voice still pretty steady, because now I was used to what was going on and ready to take it as bravely as I could.
Now he began to spank rather more quickly, though. I was calling out the numbers about every ten seconds, and crossing my ankles again, then uncrossing them and sticking my toes hard down against the rug. By the time I got to twenty, he had covered all my bare heinie with his hard hand, and it was smarting very badly. There were tears in my eyes, and my voice was a little unsteady. It was the halfway mark.
"You're taking your punishment very well, Betty Jane," he suddenly said in a rather husky voice. "I'm inclined to go easy with you this one time. I'll give you a little breather now before I resume. I'll keep my hand on your bare bottom, and when I take it off, that will be the signal that I'm going to start again."
"Yes, Mr. Sturgis," I murmured. I shifted my fingers on the rung of the chair, I uncrossed my legs and shifted my toes so that I couldn't have so much muscular stress. My calf muscles were aching just a little from the bearing down I had been doing. And all this time his palm was on my naked heinie, bridging the crease and letting me know that I was still up for punishment, and that it was a long way from being over. I wondered if I was going to get the hairbrush, too, and I told myself that I most likely would. He had said that what I had done had been very naughty, and I didn't think he was going to let me off with a handspanking.
Just as I was thinking about that, his hand lifted up from my behind, and I uttered a startled little gasp of "Ohh!" and got myself ready.
Then down his hand came, once, twice, and then a third time. The first two alternated on the curves of my bottom, and the third smacked over both cheeks where his hand had been resting during the pause. I jerked my hips a Utile, because it really stung. I called out Twenty-one, and Twenty-two-ouch!, and twenty-three! Ohh!" and wiggled my hips a little, because they were really starting to burn. Pausing like that made the heat subside a little, but then those three good smacks had started it up all over again and made it seem hotter than ever.
Now there was another pause, and I gritted my teeth and wished that I could teU him to hurry it up and get it over with, but of course I knew that would be silly. Then it came down again, on the lower summit of my left cheek, and I called it out, and then another one came on the upper slope of my right hip, and I called that out, and now I had only fifteen to go. My voice was a little husky, and there were tears in my eyes, and my titties were heaving rather quickly now as breathing was becoming a little more difficult for me.
Now he stopped a long time, until I got so nervous and edgy that I shifted myself on his lap, sort of closer to him, just to let him know that I didn't have to be held and that I could be a sport about it. Just as I was moving over, down came his hand, over the crease of my bottom, towards the lower part. I wasn't ready for it, and I let out a high-pitched squeal of "Ouch! Twenty-six!"
Again he waited, and I could feel all the smacks tingling all over my bare ass. I tried to relax my muscles, because I had already discovered that tightening them makes the spank hurt more. David has taught me that, too. Then he started up again, and gave me four really good hard ones, two to the left cheek, two to the other one, all four on the lower part of my bottom, the most tender part of all. I kicked up one leg, then the other, and I called out, "Owwwoeee! Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty! Ohhh, it hurts!"
I had let go of the chair rung and clenched my fists, but I fought the impulse to put my hands behind me and cover up. I had only ten left to go, and I was bound and determined to prove to him that I could take it, because I was grownup.
My tummy and pussy were moving a little over him, and all of a sudden again I felt that hard bulge at his crotch, and I knew that he was excited. Seeing my bare bottom get red and jump and wriggle a little as it was doing had set him off, as it had with Mom. And just as I was thinking that, his hand came down again twice, very hard, on the right cheek where it was the plumpest, and I uttered a sob, and squirmed a little, and then I called out in a sort of high-pitched voice, "Owouu, thirty-one, thirty-two, oh thank goodness it'll soon be over!"
As if to show me that I was wrong, he made me wait an awfully long time again. I got so nervous that I shifted myself back up against him, only to find that his prick was rubbing against my pussy. And I found out something else too: My pussy was starting to itch and tickle and feel moist!
Smack! Crack! Thwack! Down came his hard hand three times in a row, and all over the crease of my ass at the lower part. It hurt so much that I burst out crying, which surprised me, because I thought I could hold out. "Oh, that hurts so! Oh, Mr. Sturgis, thirty-three, oh, it hurts, and thirty-four."
I had forgotten one spank because the pain was so hot and stinging, but he didn't correct me. Instead he brought his hand down on the base of my left heinie cheek, and I called out in a sobbing voice, "Thirty-five, oh! it stings!"
My feet kicked up and then went down again. My bottom was really hot, I could feel it. I knew how red it must be. But there were only four or five more to go.
And they took the longest of all, as I might have guessed. In fact, I got so impatient that I let out a little gasp and glanced back at him. He was just sitting there, his right hand upraised about halfway, and his left hand was in his lap and I could feel it brushing the edge of my left hip. I could also feel the throbbing of his prick through his pants pressed right up against my tummy and abdomen. I turned very red, and I blinked my eyes to clear the tears, and then I looked down at the floor and took hold of the rungs of the chair again real hard. He still waited a few seconds before he let me have it, and it stung the upper left hipslope, and I squealed, "Aahhh, thirty-seven, Mr. Sturgis!" My bottom was really throbbing very painfully now. I was glad that I only had three more spanks left. And then my heart sank, because I knew he wasn't going to stop there. And I wondered if I could take the rest of whatever he was going to give me.
Then the thirty-eighth fell, on the outer edge of the lower right summit of my heinie, and I called it out, with a sobbing little gasp, and I found myself weaving my bottom again and edging over off his lap. He waited a minute and I got back in place, but that rubbing over him made me feel his cock all the more, and the itching of my pussy was something terrible now. The last two spanks fell almost at once, and they were both given to the right summit of my bottom, and my hips jumped and I kicked up, and I sobbed out, "Thirty-nine, and forty, oh thank goodness it's over! It really stings so, Mr. Sturgis!"
He put his right hand back on my bottom, as much as if to let me know that he wasn't finished with me yet. Then he said, "That was very good, Betty Jane. I'm quite pleased. So I shall be lenient with the rest of your punishment. I'll let you rest here for a minute or two, and then I'll give you another order. I trust you will obey it just as well as you did this first one."
"Y-yes, yes, sir, I'll try," I quavered.
My legs began to tremble, and I could feel the muscles of my bottom tense and relax, and I knew that my red heinie was moving a little, and that he must be looking at it. I didn't want to watch, and I kept my eyes tightly shut through my tears. I sniffled a little to clear them, and I waited. Then I felt his hand lift off my bottom, and he said in a rather gentle and surprising voice, "Now I want you to get up and walk over to the bed and take hold of the foot rail with your hands very wide apart."
I slowly slid off his lap, and then I gasped and I began to rub my burning ass. The movement had made all the waves of pain burst out again just like a new fire. Also, my panties tumbled to my ankles, but all he said was, "You might as well step out of your panties, after all, you aren't going to be needing them for a few minutes yet."
I did what he said, and I walked over to the bed and took hold of the wooden rail and I put my hands as widely apart as I could.
"Now then, I want you to lean forward and bend your bottom up and out. And then, spread your legs as widely apart as you can," was his next order.
I did so, but he said, "Wider than that, please!" and with a little gasp I spread them still more until they must have been over a yard apart. I knew I was showing him everything I had, and that my pussy was peeping out at him. I began to blush and squirm and tremble, and all that movement and the positioning of my hot bottom made all the spanking pain hurt twice as much. I had to grind my teeth to keep from crying a little.
He walked over to the dresser, got the hairbrush, and came back. Then he unbuckled his belt and dragged it out of the loops of his pants, and doubled it in his right hand. "Now for the last part of your punishment, Betty Jane. Are you ready?"
"Yes, oh, please get it over with, please, Mr. Sturgis! I'd rather be over your lap, honest I would," I heard myself saying in a trembling voice.
"This will hurt more and it will humiliate you more, and that is why you are taking this position. Now then, I am going to give you six spanks with the hairbrush, and six good swats with the belt. You will count each one as they come, do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
He shifted the belt to his left hand, and he had the hairbrush now in his right. He came up close to me, turned so that I was at right angles to him, drew back the brush, and then he spanked me real hard over the lower part of my right ass cheek. I wailed and called out, "Eeeooowwuu! One! Oh, it hurts so!"
He moved a little away, and then it was my left cheek that got it. I kicked up my right leg a little, and I cried out again, rather shrilly, "That's two! Oh, it burns!"
Now he shifted the belt to his right hand, and gave me a good hard crack against both cheeks, in a sort of diagonal way. I wasn't prepared for it, and the force of the spank made me lunge forward against the bedrail, with a wailing cry.
As I was trying to get back into position-without being told-the belt landed in the same place again, with even greater force. I threw my head back and screamed out, "Owwahrrr! Oh, four, four, you're killing me!"
"Get back into position at once," was all he said. He waited for me to assume the humiliating and straddled pose, to bend myself forward towards the bed and arch out my burning seat. Then it was the hairbrush again three times. I wailed at each, but I counted. Then there was a little pause, and he gave me two smacks from the belt over the tops of my bottom, backhanded. That made nine, and I yelled each number out and sort of danced from foot to foot.
I was crying now very hard, and I was twisting my bare reddened seat this way and that, trying to shake off all the hot agony of my spanking. There were two more with the belt, I remember, each one very hard and straight across the ripest curves of both cheeks, and I yelled those out too, and then finally, the twelfth and final spank was with the hairbrush, and it hit the crease and flattened and pinched the flesh, and I screamed and again lunged over the bed and yelled, "Twelve! Oh thank goodness it's over! I'm burning up, Mr. Sturgis, I'll be good!"
As I lay there crying as if my heart would break, my bottom upturned and abandoned, he moved over to me. I heard the hairbrush drop onto the floor, and then I suddenly felt his forefinger touch the inside of one thigh and suddenly brush against my pussy! I uttered a startled cry, lifted my head, and he had already touched the lips of my cunny. It was moist, and it was twitching and itching something terrible.
"You bore up under that very well, Betty Jane. Now you may go take a shower, and put on your pajamas and rest a little. You needn't come down till supper. I'll get the razor blades myself."
"Yes, sir, I'm awfully sorry, but I honestly didn't let him kiss me."
"I think I know that, Betty Jane," his voice was the softest it had ever been since I had first met him. "And there's something else I know, too. You're an exceptionally emotional girl. And you get excited when you get spanked, don't you?"
My mouth just gaped, and I turned and stared at him, ignoring the fact that I was practically bare-naked and showing my pussy and everything to him, except for my bra, of course. He had guessed! I guess I turned scarlet down to my neck and ears, but he was already turning away from me and lighting a cigarette. "Go do what I told you to!" I heard him order me in a harsh voice again, which was more like his old self. I got my panties on, put my dress and slip back on, and I went out of his bedroom hobbling and with my bottom burning awfully, and with the strangest feeling that I had just really got to know Mr. Sturgis for the very first time.
CHAPTER NINE
When I got back to my room after Mr. Sturgis had spanked me, I took a shower right away to cool off the sting in my poor heinie. And I was still blushing from what he had done to me and from what he had said.
He had learned my secret. And I couldn't deny it, because my pussy was wet and sticky when he had touched me after finishing me off with the hairbrush and his doubled leather belt. There was a churning in the pit of my tummy that was driving me wild. I hoped that with the shower, I could cool off both back and front.
I put some talcum powder on my bottom when I finished patting myself dry with the towel, and I looked over my shoulder as I turned my back to the mirror. My creamy skin was awfully red, even after the shower and the talcum. But now there was a warm, steady, throbbing glow which didn't really hurt so much. And just as the pain in my bottom seemed to die down, by contrast the twitching in my pussy got worse and worse.
I knew that deep down inside, Mr. Sturgis really wanted to fuck me. He wanted to spank me till I cried, and then, having found out how sexy a spanking made me, put that big hard cock of his into my virgin pussy and give me what he had given Mom that time I had watched through that crack in the door.
And at the same time, even young as I was, I sort of dimly understood that he was jealous of me. He had given me that licking just because that old snoop had phoned him about my being kissed by a boy, and he was jealous that anybody else would have any interest in me. He wanted to have me to himself, just as he did Holly and Thelma, but me most of all because I was the oldest and most developed like Mom, who was his wife and whom he could fuck whenever he wanted to.
I had made a discovery that just about flabbergasted me, and when I put on my pajamas, I lay very carefully down on my side on the bed and thought about it. The more I thought about it, the itchier I got between my legs, until finally I slipped my hand down into my pajamas and started to frig myself. Yes, my pussy was awfully wet, and as I found my tickler and began to rub it back and forth very slowly and closed my eyes and imagined I was still back over Mr. Sturgis' lap, I suddenly had to put my other hand over my mouth to hold back my cry as I began to thrash about when the waves of pussy creaming hit me.
They were so powerful that I rolled over onto my bottom, and the pain I got from that seemed to make the pleasure even more delicious. And then I knew that what Mr. Sturgis had said about me was very true. I was passionate and sensitive and I had an imagination so that, in spite of all my being indignant over being spanked like a kid by a strange man,! really, secretly loved it!
What was I going to do now that we both knew this? How could I keep it from Mom and still more so from my younger sisters? I didn't know, but I knew that I hadn't had the last spanking I would get from Mr. Sturgis, not by a long shot. And I almost looked forward to the next one, believe it or not, Mr. Harding.
But it didn't come until a week before Christmas. However, Holly and Thelma didn't get off quite that easily. I remember that each of them got at least two more sound spankings. Thelma's next school report just before the Christmas holidays was only a slight improvement over the first one which he hadn't liked, and Holly had fibbed to him and Mom, the little minx, and snuck out to see a movie with a fifteen-year-old boyfriend from school on a Friday evening when she had said she was going over to her girlfriend's to do some studying.
As usual, whenever Mr. Sturgis spanked either or both of my sisters, I had to be present. That went for the other girls too, like for instance if only Holly was to be spanked, Thelma still had to be there and vice versa. And I remember what an awful licking poor Holly got for that fib she told.
She had to take off everything except her bra-yes, she was already wearing one, because her pear-shaped titties were starting to get very firm and suggestive-looking against just a blouse or a slip. That and her slippers was all he allowed her to wear, and of course Mom was there too. She had to go over Mom's lap for a good handspanking, and Mr. Sturgis several times warned Mom to lay it on good or else he would attend to her himself. I really gasped when I heard him say that, and so did Mom, but he was so domineering by then that not one of us dared to stand in his way, least of all Mom for reasons you can guess.
Anyway, after Holly had been thoroughly spanked to Mr. Sturgis' satisfaction, and she was bawling and rubbing her red heinie, he ordered her to hold onto the foot of the bed and bend her head down and stand with her legs very far apart the way he had done with me that Saturday afternoon.
Then he made her count out ten good hard swats with his doubled belt across the sorest part of her saucy, flaming heinie, and she missed about four as it stung so much and she left position and danced from foot to foot and grabbed her bottom and rubbed and begged for mercy.
Thelma, for a bad school report, didn't get off much lighter. She wore a slip, because they hadn't given her a bra yet, though in my book she really could have used one more than Holly, because her titties were bigger and rounder and sort of floppier, if you know what I mean.
She had her slip and bobby socks on, and she had to reach under her slip and pull off her panties, and then stand in the comer while Mr. Sturgis gave her a good talking-to. Then Mom ordered her to come over and get over her lap, and Mr. Sturgis pulled up Thelma's slip and ordered Mom to give her fifty on her heinie with her bare hand. Thelma was kicking and squealing for mercy after about fifteen, but it didn't do her any good. She got a brief rest, and then Mr. Sturgis told her to take the same position holding onto the foot rail of the bed that Holly had done. This time, however, he had a flat ruler for the spanking.
After just two licks, Thelma broke away and ran into a comer and covered up her bottom and pleaded for mercy. So Holly and I both had to grab her and pull her over and lay her down on her tummy and then kneel and each of us held one of her wrists while Mom was ordered to put both hands down on the small of Thelma's back to pin her down for the rest of her spanking.
She got fifteen good hard whacks with the ruler, each about a minute apart, and she thrashed about so wildly that I thought the bed was going to break down.
It was a good thing that our house was sort of far away from the rest of the neighbors', because she screamed at the top of her lungs every time the ruler flattened against her sore-looking big round butt.
And you know, the funny thing is that during those five spankings my two sisters, since I had to be spanked, got to help out as I just told you. I felt that familiar tickling in my pussy. I knew what it meant. It meant that I was really wishing that I could take Thelma's or Holly's place and have Mr. Sturgis spank my bottom. It was funny, but I'd never thought of Mom's doing it. And yet that's exactly what happened that week before Christmas.
I had been invited to a dance by the same boy who had kissed me, and of course Mr. Sturgis had put his foot down and said that I absolutely was never to have a date with that young ruffian-that's what he called him. I guess maybe I sulked a little, and now as I look back I can tell you why. I wanted to make Mr. Sturgis jealous, because secretly I wanted him to pay attention to me and to spank me so I could get all excited and have that heavenly secret session in my bedroom when it was all over and I could pretend I was being fucked.
I guess I could have been ready to be a wife even when I was sixteen. It's just too bad that darling Dave didn't come along until much later. But again I'm getting ahead of my story and I'd better now or else I'll have to pay for it.
Also, this next spanking of mine marked the first time that my sisters saw me get it. And I think also it was because Mr. Sturgis just wanted to show me that even if I was his favorite, he was still the boss and would dictate what was going to happen.
He wanted me to feel that I was absolutely at his mercy, just the way Holly and Thelma and Mom were. It was his way of telling me that I was his Utile slave-girl, his spanking slave-girl.
We were all at the supper table one evening, when Mr. Sturgis was saying something about how sorry he was to see how many parents were lax with their children these days. I guess I was just egging him on because I suddenly broke in and said, "When do you think I can have a date with a boy you approve of, Mr. Sturgis?"
He had been saying something to Mom, and I guess I interrupted Mm.
He gave me a glare and he snapped back, "When I tell you to, Betty Jane, and not before! I say it will be at least until your seventeenth birthday, and maybe not then if you don't show better sense. Now you can apologize for interrupting at the table."
"I'm sorry," I said contritely. "But don't you think that there are exceptions?"
"Such as what?" he countered, and his eyes fixed on me with a rather unpleasant, narrowed look. I began to feel my pulses pounding again, and that tickling feeling starting in my pussy. I knew I wanted a spanking. But I wanted him to do it, all by himself, to have my panties down so he could feel and look at my bottom, to pose me so that he could see my pussy, to spank me until it burned so much that I almost fainted because in front of me there was a burning too that more than made up for all the pain in my heinie.
"Well, didn't you once say to me that sometimes some girls are more mature than others, Mr. Sturgis?" I wanted to know.
"Yes. And some girls are impertinent and are going to get punished if they keep up that line of talk," he gave me back in no uncertain terms.
"I'm too old to spank," I tossed my head. "I don't think it's right that a girl should be spanked after she's sixteen. I'm doing well in school, I don't go out with boys, I do my errands, and-"
"And that's quite enough of that!" he brought his fist down on the table till the silverware jumped, and so did Holly and Thelma who stared at me as if they didn't believe what they heard. Even Mom was giving me an uneasy look.
"I don't see why I shouldn't have certain rights, Mr. Sturgis," I said sarcastically. I was looking right into his eyes and I tried to show him I wasn't scared of him. I was, but it was a way of being scared, and it was our secret. But the trouble was, it didn't at all work out that way much to my dismay. He got up, flung down his napkin, and then he said coldly, "I think it's time you had another disciplinary lesson, Betty Jane. Come along, you girls, and you too, Edith. This young lady is just asking to have her panties taken down and her big grownup bottom soundly spanked till she apologizes for her rudeness."
I turned red in the face and I started to beg my way out of it. "I didn't mean to be rude, honest I didn't. I was just asking-"
"You heard the answer. Come along with me, young lady!" was all he would give me. And with my sisters looking at me and Mom too, I was doomed. Slowly, with a sigh, I followed him down the hallway into his bedroom. And this time I really did wish I could sink through the floor. Holly and Thelma for the first time were going to see their grownup sister spanked, her panties taken down and her naked heinie getting the same sort of discipline they had been getting much more often. They were going to find out that it wasn't the first time, too, I was very sure of that. Mr. Sturgis was going to pay me back for my little needling.
But the worst was yet to come. As soon as we got in the room and the door was closed, Mr. Sturgis turned to me and said, "You can take off everything, except your garter belt, shoes and stocking."
'Timothy!" Mom protested, blushing, with her eyes very wide. "Betty Jane is practically grownup, you really shouldn't make her do that. And it isn't right for the girls-"
"Edith, keep out of this, you know that you aren't going to talk me out of it. And if you keep it up, you'll be talking yourself into something you won't like, I promise you that." He gave her a sarcastic look and she meekly bowed her head and shivered a little. Only I knew why. Then he turned to look at me again and repeated the order: "At once, Betty Jane, down to your garter belt, shoes and stockings. This is going to be a spanking you'll remember!"
I was blushing furiously as I began to take off my dress and slip. Then I had to reach behind me and unhook my bra, and my two sisters were staring at my titties as if they'd never seen any before. Biting my Ups, I slowly shucked down my panties and stepped out of them. There I was, and I couldn't help clapping one hand over the black bush of my pussy to hide it. Somehow, with three of them in the room, it wasn't the same as it had been with Mr. Sturgis and me all alone to ourselves. It wasn't something that could be shared between us, it was humiliation and real discipline. Now I knew the point he was making. And I was very sorry I had made him bring it up, believe you me!
"Suppose you take hold of the foot rail, Betty Jane," he ordered. "Spread your legs wide apart, bend your head and shoulders down till they're almost touching the bed. I'm going to start you off with a warm-up spanking."
I took the position and I heard my sisters gasp, and I really wished I hadn't been so chippie at the dinner table. But it was too late now. The muscles in my heinie were twitching and I didn't have the warm, scared, and oh so good feeling that I had had before when just Mr. Sturgis had spanked me and nobody else had been there to watch. But I had brought this on myself and I had to go through with it. I bent my head way down until my forehead touched the covers, and I waited. "I want your legs wider apart than that, young lady!" he scolded me. And I did what he wanted.
Then he came up behind me and, curving his left arm round my bare waist, began to spank me without so much as a warning. He was up real close and of course his right hand could work very quickly over both my cheeks. I was gasping in a couple of minutes and he must have given me at least twenty-five. They were rapid, stinging, and they hurt. I began to shift on my feet, and I began to raise my head a little, and my arms were aching from the muscular strain. "Stay in position," he scolded again, pausing a moment to touch my bottom here and there. I squirmed and tried to close my legs, but he gave me a stinging slap at the base of my right bottom cheek and commanded again. "Didn't I tell you to keep in position and spread those legs well apart, young lady? You're going to get a great deal more if you keep on like this, you know."
"I-I'm sorry, Mr. St-Sturgis," I quavered in a husky voice. I was blinking my eyes to clear them from the tears, for my bottom just hurt, I didn't have the tickling sensation yet.
Then he went on. It was harder than ever, and some of the spanks fairly made me lunge forward, with a gasp and groan. My behind was hurting me awfully. And I could hear Thelma and Holly gasp every so often when the spanks sounded very noisy and seemed to sting me and made me call out.
I think he must have given me at least seventy-five before he stopped, and I was shifting from foot to foot, and tears were running down my cheeks. But I wasn't done yet, not by a long sight.
"You may have exactly two minutes, young lady. Edith, go sit in that armchair. I'll need you for the next part of Betty Jane's punishment," he said.
I raised my head, blinked my eyes again, and my bare titties were heaving awfully fast. My legs felt weak, and my bottom was just blazing away and I wanted to rub ever so badly. But I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. I hadn't begged for mercy, and I was proud of that at least.
When the two minutes were up, he said to me, "Now then, Betty Jane, kneel down in front of your mother and hold out your hands. Edith, take hold of her wrists and don't let go."
"Oh please, Timothy," Mom pleaded softly. "She's been a very good girl most of the time, I really think she has. You've been very severe with her."
"I mean to be. All right, Betty Jane, I'm going to give you twenty with the belt. And you're to count each one aloud so I can hear it, understand me?"
"Yes-yes I do, s-sir," I stammered. I looked up at Mom and she was crying a little, but she held on tight to my wrists. I leaned forward toward her lap, to stick my butt out for the belt. I knew he was doubling it, but I didn't look behind. I just gritted my teeth and waited. And when it came down with an awful smack, it hurt so much more than I had thought it would that I let out an "Oww! Oh please!" and squirmed forward on my knees until my head was resting on Mom's lap.
Already the second smack met me before I could get back in position. It drove me farther into Mom's lap and I yelled out again, "Ouch, ohh, oh, golly! Two!"
"No it isn't, Betty Jane, you didn't count the first one, and itll go on being one until you do," he said, and before I could say anything back, the belt thwacked against my sore bare seat, right at the base across both cheeks, the most tender place of all for a girl being spanked, especially after she's already had such a warm-up. I called out, "One!" as loudly as I could, and then I started to cry.
It was just awful. I missed about five more, because sometimes it took my breath away and the strap bit a place that was particularly tender and burning already. I shifted from knee to knee, and I jerked at my wrists, and I began to my shame, to beg Mr. Sturgis to let me off, even as I counted: "Owwwwahrrrrr! Fourteen-ohh, please, I'll be good, don't spank me anymore with that awful belt, Mr. Sturgis, please don't, I can't stand it so hard!" and so on.
Then it was over. I was sobbing as if my heart would break, and Mom was caressing my head tenderly with both hands, and even my sisters were sniveling. They were really impressed. But my bottom was hurting too much for me to worry about the shame of knowing at last they had seen their big sister get her bare heinie tanned.
"Now do you think you can stop interrupting at the table trying to call attention to yourself and being rude purposely to irritate me, Betty Jane?" my stepfather wanted to know.
"Oh yes, yes, Mr. Sturgis, I won't ever do it again!" I blubbered.
"All right. Put your clothes back on, and go to your room, and I don't want to see you until breakfast tomorrow."
Still sobbing, and putting one hand behind me, to rub away the worst of the pain, I managed to dress and to stumble back out of the room upstairs to mine.
But this surprising night wasn't over yet. I went right to bed, because my bottom blazed and hurt so that I didn't even want to think of listening to radio or TV. I was sniffling, and I finally fell asleep. But all of a sudden I seemed to open my eyes, and I felt that someone was in my room. It was Mr. Sturgis. He was in his pajamas. I glanced at the clock and it was one in the morning. I sat up in bed, but he shook his head: "NO, don't say anything. I wanted to see how you were."
"I-I guess I'm all right, Mr. S-Sturgis," I whispered back.
"That's good. You know, you're awfully impertinent, you were just begging for it, weren't you?"
"Yes, s-sir."
"I thought so. And this time I'll bet you didn't have the same feelings you did the last time I spanked you, isn't that right, Betty Jane?"
"N-no, I didn't, D-Daddy." Before I knew what I was saying, the word had slipped out at last. He uttered a gasp and came toward me. Then he put his hands on my shoulders and kissed me hard on the mouth and whispered in a very husky tone, "I've wanted to hear you say that, you don't know how long, Betty Jane. You be a good girl, and maybe the next time nobody else will have to watch your spanking. You're getting to be a very grown-up young lady, and something's going to have to be done about it one of these days. Now go to sleep."
He slipped out, the door closed gently behind him. My heart was pounding, and I couldn't go back to sleep. It was practically an admission of love. And there was something else. I could smell Mom's perfume on him and I knew that they had been fucking. I knew that whenever he spanked a girl's bare bottom, he had to have sex. Well, he had had it with Mom, and all the time I knew he was thinking of me. I know it sounds shameful to say it so coldly as this, with all these years gone by, but that was exactly the way I felt that night. It thrilled me so much that I had my pajama pants down and my finger on my tickler, and I was closing my eyes and pretending that Daddy (yes, Daddy!) was fucking me and making me come.
CHAPTER TEN
Six months later, Mom was dead. She had another attack of the same virus that had sent her to the hospital, and this time she died in three days in her sleep and without pain, for which I'll always be grateful. It was toward the end of June, and between Christmas and then, I had had just one little spanking, almost too insignificant to mention. I had dropped a dish, and Mr. Sturgis had told me to be more careful, and I had said that I couldn't help it and that anybody could have an accident. He hadn't liked the tone of my voice, but he hadn't taken me into the bedroom that time. Just he and I had been doing the dishes, because Mom and my sisters were out shopping. He had put his left foot on a footstool in the kitchen made me lift up my dress and slip, bend over his left knee, and then, after yanking down my panties to my knees, put his left hand on the scruff of my neck and made me count thirty good hard smacks with his other hand against my naked bottom. He seemed to give me most of the spanks from downwards up, hitting the base and lower curves of my plump round heinie-cheeks, and he had me crying like a baby by about the eighteenth. I didn't miss any of the counts, this time, but it was all I could do to call them out clearly because I was crying towards the very last part of it.
In that same six-month period, Holly and Thelma got several good licking. It was my job to hold their wrists, and also, for the first time and very strangely too, Mr. Sturgis had me prepare them. I mean, when they were sentenced to a spanking and went to his bedroom as told, even with Mom there, it was I whom he called on to lift up their clothes or take them off, pull their panties down to their calves or knees, and then lay them in position over his knee, or lead them over to the foot rail of the bed where they had to stand with their legs wide apart and their heads bowed down the way I had done.
But just the week before Mom got so sick and went to the hospital where she died, she called me into the room one evening and she had the strangest conversation with me. I suppose you might call it a premonition of death, but whatever the reason, she took my hands in hers and said, "Betty Jane, of all my girls, and not just because you're the oldest, you seem to be very grownup and to have a lot of knowledge about most things which most girls don't have at your age. Mr. Sturgis told me that you called him Daddy, and it made him very happy as it did me. I want you to know, darling, that even though I loved your father very much, I love Mr. Sturgis just as much and for different reasons. Youll understand one day soon. He's stern, but he's a man, and it's thrilling-soon when you're a real woman you'll know what I mean, darling. If anything should ever happen to me, you'll have to take over. He thinks very highly of you, and he's a very fine person, even though he's hard to understand at first. You see, he came from a big family where there were mostly girls and just him and his brother. And his parents seemed to prefer the girls, and the boys always got the lickings and the blamings for what went wrong even when it was the girls' fault. That may help you to understand him a little better."
It did help. And I could see how snippy, teasing girls, especially like my own sister Holly, could rile a man and make him feel that he was losing his manhood and want to do something about it. He was just different from our real daddy, and he had his feelings and I was close in understanding what they were even then.
We were all very sad for some weeks after poor Mom died. Mr. Sturgis hired an old German housekeeper to look after us, because he was getting very busy at the store. He was also getting a promotion to a vice-presidency, he told us, and it would mean lots of overtime work and that way why he wanted the housekeeper around to look after us. She would report to him if we were good or bad, and he reminded us that he still had the power to spank us when we deserved it.
I guess we all three of us tried harder than ever to justify his confidence in us and to sort of make up to him for losing Mom. And before I knew it I was seventeen and I was really thinking about boys. The fellow that kissed me had moved out of Bismarck, but I had a crush on a fellow by the name of Johnny Destin. He was a tall fellow, eighteen, and he was going to his first term in an agricultural college, and had an old jalopy, and was a wonderful mechanic and a good driver. Mr. Sturgis had said that at seventeen I could date, and I went out for a ride with Johnny Destin about two weeks after my seventeenth birthday and I didn't ask Mr. Sturgis for permission.
This time, it wasn't a snoop that called him up and told him. He happened to be driving home just when Johnny drove me back to the house, and when he got out, he gave me a very angry look and then he looked at Johnny and said, "A thing like that is a menace to the road, young man. And I'll thank you not to take my stepdaughter out in that again." And then he asked Johnny to go. I was just burning up with shame and embarrassment. I didn't think that Johnny would ever want to see me again.
Mr. Sturgis didn't say a word to me. After supper, he watched television, for a while, and then it was time for Holly and Thelma to go to to bed. Finally he got up, came over to where I was sitting, looked down at me and said, "In about half an hour, come to my room. Just have your pajamas on. You're going to get a good sound spanking for that little escapade of yours this afternoon, young lady."
I began to shiver after he had left the room. And then again I felt that tickling feeling which I hadn't felt for so long. I was going to be alone with him, all alone at night, and he was going to take my pajama pants down and spank my bare heinie. And it was going to be a good one. He would make me cry, and I would have that weak-in-the-knees feeling all over again.
I went to my room and brushed my teeth and washed my hands, and I don't know why, but I combed out my long pageboy till it shone. Then I took off everything and put on my nicest pajamas, and my slippers. It was about five minutes before the half-hour was up, but I didn't wait, I went right downstairs to Mr.
Sturgis' room and knocked on the door.
He called to me to come in, and I did and closed the door behind me. He glanced at his wrist watch and gave a sort of little smile. "I suppose you think that because you're seventeen now, young lady, you can date without my permission."
"It really wasn't a date, though, Mr. Sturgis. He just offered me a ride and I know he's a good mechanic and he can drive-"
"I can see that. But I have the sole responsibility for you girls now, and I don't want you to go hog wild just because I'm not around as much at night as I used to be. That's why I'm going to give you a good sound spanking. Take off your pajama pants and get over my, lap. I'm going to start you with a warm-up. And you can count every one too."
I let my pajama pants drop, stepped out of them, while he sat down on a straight-back chair and waited for me. I went right across his lap and grabbed hold of the old familiar rung of the chair, and the flesh of my bare bottom started to twitch and ripple and shrink. And I had that sticky, moist feeling in my pussy as I never had had it before. I thought I was going to faint from it. All I could think of was poor Mom getting her bottom spanked and then being fucked afterwards. And the terrible thing was that I wanted him to do that ever so much, I almost wanted to tell him that I wanted him to do it-but of course I didn't dare.
He started to spank me right away without any ceremony, scolding or warning. The spanks came down hard and fast, and I had the dickens of a time counting them out to suit him. I missed about ten, and I was sorry because they really hurt when he landed the last twenty with all his might and made me yell out. I guess even my sisters heard me upstairs, but my bottom was hurting so much I didn't care about it.
Then he had me get up, and he let me rub my flaming behind a few minutes, and then he seemed to be thinking about something. I guess he was figuring out a new way to give me my licking. Finally he decided: "Get onto the bed, Betty Jane, get on your hands and knees and bow your head all the way down to the sheets. Spread your legs well apart, and then you're going to count twenty, I'm going to give you the spanker this time."
So saying, he walked over to his dresser, opened the bottom drawer, took out a black leather sole. It looked wicked and gleaming and I shivered as I glanced round to see what he was doing. He came over to the bed, patted my flaming bottom with it, and then told me to be sure to count. He said that if I wanted to, I could cry all I liked because it didn't matter if my sisters hear me. They knew by now that I got spanked too.
I knew from that it was going to be real hard and it was. The very first whack over the base of my left heinie-cheek took my breath away, and I almost fell flat on my face, it burned so. I yelled out, "Ohh, one!" and then I got back into position without being told. As I got back, the second spank cracked against the base of the other cheek, and again I yelled out "Ahrr, that's two, Daddy!"
He patted my bare heinie with the slippery sole again, and then he began to spank me a little more slowly. I lost about two counts which was because I hurt so, and I was crying and making no bones about it, and wriggling about on my knees and lowering my bottom down to my heels and had to be told several times to get it up for the spanks, and then finally it was over.
Then he tossed the sole in front of me and ordered, in a strange harsh voice, "Now pick it up, kiss it and thank me for punishing you, Betty Jane."
I was trembling and sobbing so, that I could hardly see through my tears as I groped for it. I picked it up arid put it to my lips and I kissed it noisily, so that he could hear it, and I stammered out tearfully, "Oh thank you for sp-spanking me-D-Daddy, I'll be a good girl, I won't date unless you tell me to because-because I love you!"
There, it was out! That awful spanking and the tickling of my pussy coming together as they did and being so alone now that Mom was gone forever, had turned me into wanting to be Mr. Sturgis' little slavegirl, and not just for spanking.
He came over to me, then he ran both his hands down my sore, throbbing bottom. He caressed the cheeks very slowly and lingeringly, and gradually the pain began to go away and diminish into a dull throbbing ache. I squirmed a little, and I gasped, but I didn't try to move. "I'm sorry I spanked your lovely bottom so hard, dear," he said and this was as close to tenderness as he ever got with me. "But you know you deserved it, don you?"
"Y-yes, Daddy. I-I'm sorry, Daddy. And I won't do it again, I promise."
"That's a darling. Do you still get excited? Let's see." Before I knew what he was saying or doing, I felt his finger edge between the cheeks of my bottom and then go down lower and on up against my pussy. Yes, he knew, he found out. My pussy was moist and twitching and itching all over again, and more than it had ever been before. I gasped and sighed and moaned and then began to wriggle my bare bottom, not really knowing what I was doing. But he was actually frigging me a little, and it was so thrilling and so delicious that wanted it to go on forever and ever and ever.
And then he seemed to quicken the touch of his finger against my tickler, and all of a sudden I wailed out, "Ohh ahh, Oh Daddy, Daddy darling, of give it to me, of Daddy, oh I can't help it, please forgive me, Daddy!" and I fell flat on my face and kicked my legs and I almost fainted away with the furious pussy creaming that went over me.
He was bending over me when I sort of came out of the fog, and he was stroking my tumbled black hair, and he was saying gently, "Yes, indeed, well have to get you married one of these days. You're a properly disciplined girl, you'll make a still better wife. And I think I know someone who would love you very much and keep up the good training that I have tried to instill in you. Now give me a kiss to show me you forgive me for spanking your lovely behind so hard, and then put your pants back on and go back and sleep, darling."
It was the first love session I had really ever had. It was naughty and wicked and sinful, but I won't ever forget it. I could have been his right then and there, and I wouldn't have said a word if he had tried to fuck me, honest I wouldn't. But he had a great deal more in mind than that, as I was going to find out.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
About two months after Mr. Sturgis had given me my last spanking and had visited my bedroom late at night to console me with that exquisite frigging which had left me all the more determined to be his love slave as well as his spanking slave, poor Holly got the worst thrashing of her life. It was funny that I, who was by now the sexiest of the three girls, should still have my cherry in spite of my longing to be relieved of it by Mr. Sturgis himself, while tomboyish Holly turned out to be the first "sex offender" of our family. But by then she was a few months past fifteen, and she had really filled out in the time since Mr. Sturgis had married poor Mom. She was about five feet seven, about an inch and a half taller than I was, and those titties of hers had really become very suggestive, nice big firm pears so that she needed a very tight bra. She was wearing her hair helmet style those days, and it sort of gave her saucy, freckled face a very cute, yet sophisticated look.
Also, she had gone in for wearing minidresses, though she didn't quite go to the extreme of showing off all her long legs. The hems of the skirt ended about three inches above her knee. Even at that Mr. Sturgis didn't like it much, but I was beginning to wear the same kind of dress and just about all the girls in school were, so he didn't say too much. He did give Holly a lecture once about not displaying herself because boys would think her cheap and easy, and he looked at me when he said that. But my skirt was if anything about an inch longer than Holly's. And I had often caught him looking at my legs, especially when I wore nylons. I had started girls' college in Bismarck and it meant that I got home between half an hour and forty minutes after my two sisters who of course were still going to grammar and high school. Thelma was blossoming out too, and she was going to be extremely lovely in a few years. Mr. Sturgis and the old housekeeper, Mrs. Reichel, kept after her so that she didn't eat too much between meals, especially sweets. She had lost a few pounds, and she was a lot more attractive that way.
Just about a week before my red-haired sister got her terrible thrashing, she had confided to me that she had a terrific crush on a seventeen-year-old boy by the name of Doug Wharton. He was black-haired and soft-spoken and he was the son of a rich farmer who lived just outside the city. She was mad about him, she said, and then she told me that they had even done some necking. I told her to be awfully careful because Mr. Sturgis would really spank her hard if he ever found out. She hadn't got permission to date in the first place, and she was still two years under the prescribed age which he had set down. Of course I still missed Mom terribly, but I was at the point when I wanted to have a lot more affection than I was getting. I was sending thought waves out in Mr. Sturgis' direction all the time, even though I knew I was a shameless little hussy for doing it. But if I couldn't have him, I wanted some boy to neck me and love me up and make me all moist and tickly between my legs. So I sort of envied Holly even though I was a little afraid for her.
Her thrashing took place on a Friday evening, and Mr. Sturgis had told us that he was going to have to work late at the store and might not get home until midnight. So Holly had figured that it was pretty safe to sneak out as she had told Mrs. Reichel that she was going over to visit Patsy Delmar, who was her best girlfriend. Of course she went out with her guy instead. Mr. Sturgis came back about eight o'clock, and Thelma and I were both awfully scared. He wanted to know where Holly was, and Thelma stammered out something about her going over to see Patsy. He frowned and said, "If she knew she was going to do that, she ought to have got permission. Did she tell you, Mrs. Reichel?"
The old gray-haired German woman shook her head. "Well, I'm going to my study," he said. "When she comes back in, send her right to me,. "
After he had gone, Thelma and I looked at each other helplessly. Mrs. Reichel went to the kitchen to clean up the dishes, and Thelma gasped, "She went riding with that boyfriend of hers, you know she did, Betty Jane! Oh he's going to lick her good and hard, why did she have to do it?"
"I don't know, honey. But she's big enough to know her own mind, and she knows that Mr. Sturgis is very strict with us, so shell just have to take her medicine," I said. Then I went to my room and did some homework, and it was about ten o'clock when Holly finally came in. She had managed to get inside the house without anyone's noticing her, and she came right to my room, and her eyes were all starry. I also saw that her dress was rumpled, and she had the silliest look on her face as she came up to me and hugged me. "Oh Betty Jane, it's just wonderful! I let him have me, we went all the way this evening. His folks were gone and he took me to his house and he used a safe and everything. I never thought it could be so wonderful. And it didn't hurt any either, when he took my cherry."
I sat there with my mouth open and I didn't know what to say to her. I hadn't realized that my little sister was growing up so fast and that she knew what a cherry was, much less lose it to a boy. And if he used a safe, it was a pretty sure bet that Holly wasn't the first girl he'd fucked. I started to ask her about it and all of a sudden the door was flung open and in came Mr. Sturgis. He was in his bathrobe and pajamas, and he was boiling mad.
"So you finally decided to come home, young lady! Might I ask where you've been?" he growled at her.
HoUy tilted back her chin and gave him a level look. "I was out with a feUow. I like him a lot, and my schoolwork is good and I didn't see any reason why I couldn't have some fun once in a while. There isn't any in this house anymore and you know it, Mr. Sturgis." She had never yet called him "Daddy" and neither had Thelma, for that matter.
"So you want to defy me? Betty Jane, come along with me. You're going to help teach your sister Holly a lesson in propriety and rebeUion."
"You aren't going to spank me, you aren't!" she stamped her foot.
"No, I'm going to whip you. You've been out with a boy, you've told me, and I'm sure that isn't all. Why don't you tell me the rest, Holly?" he demanded.
"All right, you'd probably get it out of me anyway. I went the limit with a guy I'm crazy about. We might even get married-"
He had stopped her by slapping her across the cheek and she gasped and stumbled back, staring at him in disbelief.
"Marriage at fifteen!" he said hoarsely, his face twisted and angry. "You're still only a child! And you dare to stand there and tell me in your brazen way that you've been to bed with a boy. For all you know, you might have got pregnant. And you went behind my back to date, when you know it's forbidden until you're at least seventeen."
"So what if I did? I don't want to live here anymore. I hate you, and I always have!" she panted, still rubbing her cheek where the flaming mark showed his slap.
"I see," now his voice was deadly calm and I was really scared for her. "The first thing I'm going to do to break up this love-match of yours, if you can call it that, Holly, is to send you and Thelma away to a private school. I'm glad it's out in the open, at any rate. I've tried to be just and fair, but you say you still hate me."
"I do, I do! You're mean and nasty and you're cruel, and if you hadn't come here I never would have had a spanking," Holly began to sob.
"Well, you may have some small satisfaction in knowing that this is the last time I shall raise my hand to you, Holly."
"I'll run away, I swear I will, if you spank me now, I will, Mr. Sturgis!" she defiantly sobbed and stamped her foot again.
"I'll run away, I swear I will, if you spank me now, I will, Mr. Sturgis!" she defiantly sobbed and stamped her foot again.
"Take hold of her arm, Betty Jane, and I'll take the other one. This naughty girl is really going to get a thrashing," he ordered. I hesitated a moment, and then I did what he wanted. Holly tried to strike at me but he had already grasped her other wrist, and we had to drag her screaming and kicking to his bedroom, where he locked the door once we had got her inside.
I felt terribly sorry for her, but I knew that she was awfully wrong. She should never have tried to sneak out as there was always a chance that he would come back. And she had really cooked her goose by telling him that she hated him and that she was going to run away and openly defying him.
Still holding onto her wrist, he opened the drawer of his dresser and took out a length of cord, then he had me keep a good hold of her other wrist with both hands, and finally he managed to tie both her wrists together. Holly fought like a tigress, and several times kicked him in the shin. His face was white and twisted, but he didn't say anything while he got her ready. The two of us lifted her onto the bed on her stomach, and then he told me to sit down on her back. "I hate you, too, Betty Jane, you're his pet, and anybody can see that! You're mean and cruel just like he is, doing this to me, your own sister!" she wailed, kicking her legs frantically. But in a few minutes, Mr. Sturgis had come back with another length of cord and had tied her ankles very tightly. She was absolutely helpless now, and she was crying very loudly.
Then he tugged up the skirt of her minidress and worked it up to about her armpits. Holly had on a thin slip, and that went up too. Then he gasped as he saw that all she was wearing was pantyhose and her shoes, which he promptly pulled off. She screamed and tried to kick and to roll over, but he had me kneel and put both my hands on the small of her back to hold her in position. Then he peeled down the pantyhose to her ankles, and her jutting oval heinie was all bare, two muscles tightening, the skin so very pale while with those lovely rosy flecks. Her long slim thighs and calves were lovely too, and I realized that at fifteen, Holly was already becoming a woman. What was more, she was a woman, because she had been fucked and lost her cherry. And that was more than I had done, and I was a good two years older than she was. I really sort of envied her then, even though she was going to have to pay an awful price.
Mr. Sturgis sat down on the bed beside her, put his left palm on the edge of her left hip and started to spank her naked heinie with the flat of his right hand. She cursed at him, and then she started crying, and then as he kept it up without a word to her, she began to scream that it was hurting her and finally begged him please to stop. He didn't stop until he had given her at least a hundred spanks, and her bottom was just a furious darkening red and she was sobbing so loudly and so much that she could hardly speak.
"That's just the beginning, Holly," he said in a harsh, trembling voice, as he got off the bed and then began to unbuckle his belt. I shivered, as I stared down at poor Holly's swollen, squirming naked seat. That belt was going to be just dreadful, and I also had the sinking feeling that I mightn't see my sister again. His thrashing was going to alienate her and Mr. Sturgis forever, because she already hated him so. And then, as I was kneeling there still holding her, I began to feel that squirmy, hot, sticky feeling in my pussy. And I knew that I wished that I were in Holly's place, getting my bottom thrashed and making him excited. Because I could see right now as he half turned away from me, that there was a bulge in his trousers fly and that he had a real hard-on. So Holly was really luckier than I, because she knew what it was to have a prick in her soft pussy, even if she had to pay for it now. I knew too if it had been I, I should have wanted to be spanked first and then fucked, not the other way around!
"Now then, Holly," he announced after a few minutes, "I'm going to give you fifty spanks with this belt. And you're going to count them all."
"I won't, I won't, you can go to hell, I hate you, I wish you were dead, I'm going to run away, you'll see!" she wailed, looking back at him with her face all red and full of tears.
"You will count," he inexorably repeated, "Because anything that you don't count will just be an extra. Now well see whose will is stronger. Get ready, Holly. Here comes the first one, count it out!"
"I won't, I'll die first, I won't-ohhwweeearhh!" her hysterical protest was suddenly interrupted as the doubled belt smacked wickedly down over the tops of her red hips, which swerved and weaved in a frenzy and it was all I could do to steady her with my palms bearing down on the small of her back. She lifted back her head and let out a wild shriek of pain as she felt the belt.
"Please do as she says, Holly, he'll just go on whipping you until you do," I whispered.
"You shut up, Betty Jane, I hate you too, I wish I'd never been born-I-oowwaahh-oh it hurts! Oh stop it, Mr. Sturgis, you're mean, you're cruel, I wish you were dead!" This, as the second spank fell across the base of both her heinie-cheeks. She kicked up her bound legs, and tried to twist and roll over, but he gave me a glaring look and I knew what I had to do; my hands pressed down as hard as they could and pinned her there to the bed to take her thrashing.
"Are you going to count?" Thwackk!
"Oww ohh-no-no, you can kill me but I won't, I won't!" Holly screamed.
"Suit yourself, young lady. You're going to get fifty official spanks, and you won't get any of them until you start counting them out." With this, the belt came down for the fourth time, diagonally over both her bottomglobes, and Holly's hips seemed to leap up in the air and I could see her pussy for a minute. Then she flattened herself and wriggled and yelled shrilly that he was a brute and hateful and that she wanted him dead.
She was antagonizing him, and I didn't know why. I couldn't have done that, not tied down with my bare butt already sore and bruised from the good hard handspanking and then that belt coming down. But Holly was always obstinate and had a temper; maybe it was because she was red-haired.
Anyway, it was five more hard spanks before she finally broke down and screamed that she couldn't stand it and begged him to let her off. "Are you going to count, then?" he asked as he let the belt dangle over her flaming bottom, just grazing the sore-looking cheeks while she wriggled and squirmed and sobbed.
"Y-yes, Sir, oh not fifty, not fifty, Mr. Sturgis, you'll kill me!"
"You wished you were dead a little while ago," he said sarcastically, "And you wished the same for me. But since you're ready to count, let's hear you start then. " And he gave her a good hard swat down the middle of her right bottomglobe and she did yell out, "Awwrrr, one, one, oh you're killing me!"
After about the fifteenth spank, he made me sit on her shoulders and put my hands on the small of her back and bear her down for the rest of her thrashing. There were times when she could hardly speak, and her hips jumped and jerked and wriggled frenziedly as the belt cracked and swacked and thwacked against her flaming, swollen bare heinie. Sometimes she could hardly say the count, but he didn't seem to mind. And then at last he finished the thrashing and she lay there whimpering and greening, her bottom actually puffed up and turned terribly dark and angry-looking. I was left to rub salve on after I had put on a cold towel. I asked her why she had been so stubborn, and she gasped, "Because I hate him, I do hate him-and I'm glad he's sending me away and Thelma too, and you ought to go with us, Betty Jane. You'll be the only one he's got left to whip, and I know he wants to do it to you!"
Yes, I knew that too. And I knew with all my heart and soul that I had longed for this, subconsciously. I had longed to be all alone with Mr. Sturgis, to be his spanking slave, so he could whip my naked bottom whenever he wanted to and give me that wonderful hot squirmy feeling in my pussy that I had to have, since I didn't have any boy to fuck me the way poor Holly had....
A month later, Thelma and Holly were sent to a private girls' school about thirty miles away from Bismarck. Though they were glad to go, they cried a lot when we said goodbye, but I knew that I'd see them from time to time. Mr. Sturgis said that they might come up on holidays to visit here and that we both could go to see them from time to time.
He kept old Mrs. Reichel on as housekeeper to cook the meals and tidy up the house.
Two nights later when I was sitting watching TV with him, and thinking how lonely the house was without Thelma and Holly around, but also how glad I was to ge just alone with him, he turned to me and said, "Betty Jane, I'm going to rely on you now more than ever to help Mrs. Reichel keep the house nice and neat and to see that my meals are on time. I'm working very hard, and I may one day be head of this entire store. I expect your conduct to be exemplary. And I'm serving notice on you that if it isn't, you may expect more spankings than ever, and they will be harsher and more humiliating too. I know that part of your nature may rebel at the idea, but I know also that the other part secretly wants someone to guide you and shape you and let you know that there is affection."
"I-I understand, Daddy," I said the word for the first time all by myself, without coercion. "But I'll try hard not to disobey you or need a spanking."
"But you always will need them. That's the part of your nature I'm talking about, Betty Jane." He looked at me very strangely and then he put a hand on my shoulder and said, "You have the urge to be dominated, and you'll never be able to get it out of your system. But it's not I who am going to do that entirely to you. I'm the only person you've known, the only man you have really ever known. Much as I want you-yes, you may as well know it, Betty Jane-I don't intend to let it get that far between us. Oh it could very easily. You're beautiful, desirable, sensitive, and you have all the tendencies of being a true and submissive sweetheart. But I can't give in to my own nature as much as I should like. So I shall very-likely marry again, but not for at least a year. But I'll see you safely married first, I promise you that. Meanwhile, we'll go on as we did before. Is it understood?"
And so a strange pact was signed between us. I was thrilled, and I felt that tickling between my legs again. Because this time for the first time he had come out and actually said that he wanted me. Yes, I knew that he wanted to fuck me just as I wanted him to do it. But he wasn't going to. And that meant that I would have to be spanked and get what sexual pleasure I could from that, because he understood how much I needed it now.
I closed my eyes and shivered, because I could still feel his touch on my shoulder, and I was imagining what it would be like if he put his hands on my bubbies, or between my legs, or on my bottom when he was pushing his prick into me. Yes, I was still a virgin, but I wanted so desperately to get rid of my cherry. I almost wished that I had had the courage to do what Holly had done. Poor little darling, she was going to find her own life from now on. She would never really be submissive as I was. Thelma might be, but hers was a very temporary nature, and she was easily pleased and easily made unhappy. She wasn't too deep, and she didn't have my feelings. Perhaps she would get them in a few years. But meanwhile, I had to wait until he found the right person for me.
We visited Holly and Thelma several times, and they seemed to be getting along just fine. Their teachers liked them very much, there were buddings where they had dormitories and could live very nicely. And they seemed so different when we visited them, with the pressures of Mr. Sturgis relieved, making new friends and growing up. It was really the best thing for them. They seemed to be sort of guarded when they talked to me, and maybe they thought that I was "in the enemy camp," to use a phrase. Anyway, when I went back home, I told myself that now I was really all alone with Mr. Sturgis and I would have to wait for what crumbs of joy he could give me.
It was two months before I got my next spanking. It was a silly thing, too. Mrs. Reichel had told me to get some things at the store, and I'd been busy with a theme and talking to one of the nice fellows I had met at the store, though I wasn't really serious about him, and the upshot was that I forgot two of the things she needed most. What did she go and do but tell Mr. Sturgis when he got home for dinner. I blushed and looked sheepish, but he didn't say a word all through dinner. After she had cleared away, he told me that I was to come to his room at ten o'clock in my pajamas.
I went right to my room then, and I lay down on the bed and thought. All sorts of things were going through my mind. I wondered if I should try to make him love me. I did so want to be loved. I could feel my flesh crawling at the thought of exposing my bottom and my pussy to him, going over his lap and taking a hard spanking till it made my bottom burn. And it would make my pussy burn too, burn for the kind of relief that Holly had already enjoyed and about which I knew so much but only in theory.
It was so maddening that I practically frigged myself before I went in to see him, and I don't know what held me back. Maybe it was the thought that it would be even more exciting after I had had my spanking. I reported to him by knocking at the door in my pajamas and slippers, was told to come in, was told to lock the door which he hadn't done before with me-and then he coldly said, "Take off your pajama pants at once and get over my lap. Put your hands behind your back and cross your wrists."
I knew from this it was going to be a severe one. But I did what he told me to. I lay there shivering and waiting, and then I felt him bind my wrists with a cord. Then I really got a little scared and I stammered, "Oh please, don't tie me, I'll be good, I won't resist, I'm ready for my spanking, Daddy!"
"I am training you in submission for the man that one day you're going to marry, Betty Jane. He will be a man who like myself believes in disciplining a girl when she is naughty. He will be a man who believes that a girl should submit and that she will find a joy in submission and a pleasure in her own expiation for naughtiness. And then there will be ample compensation for her and both she and he will taste paradise together. You'll understand that before much longer, Betty Jane."
His voice was that of a schoolteacher explaining something to a backward child. Then he became harsh again as he said coldly, "I want you to count fifty, loud and clear, and to stay in position. Once again, I'm not going to hold you. You are tied and you should stay over my lap until I'm finished. Are you ready?"
And as soon as I said, "Y-yes, D-Daddy," he began the spanking. He spanked me very slowly, and every slap stung and flattened my poor heinie. I was crying before he had reached twenty, and I was wriggling and begging him to stop by the time he was at thirty-four. I didn't miss any counts, and some of them I yelled out, especially at the very end. I kicked my legs, I wriggled and twisted, once or twice I very nearly got off his laps, but somehow I managed to stay through it. Oh how my bottom hurt! I was sobbing frantically when I had finally called out the last spank. And he let me lie there for a while and stared at my naked red bottom while I wondered what he was going to do next.
"All right, Betty Jane, get off my lap and kneel down at my feet and tell me that you're sorry you've been so naughty."
I slowly slipped off his lap, moaning a little as the fiery waves of pain attacked my poor throbbing naked heinie. I slowly got down on my knees and sobbed again, because it really hurt. That was the worst hand spanking he had given me until then. And there had been no love in it, or at least I hadn't felt any. But as I knelt down, and bowed my head way down towards his slippers, I started to feel that wonderful, sticky, hot tickling in my pussy. And my bottom began to twist and squirm even as I kissed his feet and stammered tearfully, "I-I'm awfully sorry, D-Daddy, that I was such a n-naughty girl that you had to sp-spank me. I'll try to behave much better, I promise I will, D-Daddy."
My wrist were still bound behind my back, and the feeling that I was utterly helpless and showing him my pussy and bottom made the tickling get worse and worse. I was just dying to beg him to take me to bed and fuck me. But I remembered what he had said to me, and I knew that if I did, he'd only give me a worse whipping and then I would have to use my finger and frig myself to sleep again. If only I could be sure that he really loved me that way-but I had to be content with just small things for now.
I kept my head bent down until he said to me at last, "Now then, I want you to go over to the edge of the bed, bend the upper part of your body across it, spread your legs very wide apart as far as you can. The second half of your punishment is going to be a strap, not my belt."
I shivered, and I stammered, "Y-yes, D-Daddy." Then I slowly got up, my heinie still burning terribly, and I moved over to the foot of the bed and slowly bent myself forward. I spread my legs all I could, but he wasn't satisfied: "More than that, Betty Jane!" he ordered in a very harsh voice. I was trembling now, the muscles of my legs were flexing and I knew that the lips of my pussy were spread wide open and that he could see their pink gape between the red cheeks of my heinie. Oh, how I wanted him to fuck me right then! But instead, he went to the closet, opened it, stooped down and picked up something, and turned back to me. My eyes widened through my tears and I gasped out: "Oh gracious-is that what you're going to use, D-Daddy? Oh it looks just awful!"
And it did. It was about two feet long, about three inches wide, and it looked to be about a quarter of an inch thick. At the very end he had probably taken a knife and slashed four or five finger-like strips, turning them away from the others.
'This is my adaptation of a taws, Betty Jane," he explained as he came slowly towards me, dangling the strap, which I saw had a doubly thick and oval-shaped end to use as a handle. "And I think it will put some real fire into that naughty bottom of yours. I am going to give you fifteen with it, and you will count out each one.
"Y-yes, D-Daddy. Oh but please, not-not too hard-you-you spanked me awfully hard," I quavered.
"You're a big girl now, getting on to be eighteen, practically ready for marriage. You're going to have to learn to take discipline of a much sterner kind than you did when you were a little girl," he said. Then he took his place behind me at the left and said, "Get ready and don't forget to count, or of course you'll get extras."
I pressed myself down hard against the covers, and I closed my eyes real tight, and I balanced on the toes of my bare feet. I had kicked my slippers off during the spanking, and my wrists were still painfully tied behind my back. I felt him just dangle the edge of the strap over my sore heinie, and I whimpered a little and tightened up again. That terrible tickling had begun all over again. I wanted so badly to be fucked I couldn't stand it.
But the first crashing blow of the taws which wrapped round my bar-, hips at the top drove out the tickling feeling for a minute, and I lifted my head and yelled and I kicked one leg up and down and wriggled my bottom and sobbed out, "Oww, boo hoo, oh that's one, oh I can't stand fifteen, I just can't, Daddy!"
But I could and did. Several times I straightened up and even turned round once after about the tenth to beg him please not to whip me with that strap anymore, to use his hand or even the hairbrush. But he just told me to get down there again and stick my bottom out and spread my legs as wide as I could or else. Weeping bitterly, my bottom blazing, my legs giving way beneath me, I bore the fifteen to the bitter end, and I do mean bitter end! I even missed one at the very last because I was so choked with sobs that when the last stroke fell I didn't count it, so I got a terrible extra.
And then he came towards me, through the blur of tears, as I was shuddering and sobbing and trembling, and he dangled the strap in front of my face and he commanded, "Kiss the strap and thank me for punishing you, Betty Jane. Promise me you're going to be a very submissive girl."
And I stammered out the formula, and when it was over, I knelt down blazing though my poor bottom was, and I kissed his foot and stammered again, "I-I love you, Daddy, I-I wish you were the only one who would ever punish me-I do, I do!" And that was my real avowal of love to Timothy Sturgis.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was the worst spanking I had ever had, and I didn't go to school the next day because my bottom hurt so much. Mr. Sturgis came in late that night and rubbed some ointment on my bare heinie. I had taken off my pajama pants, too, so he saw me all naked in bed. His fingers were very gentle, and I looked at him with tears in my eyes and I wanted to tell him more than just that I loved him, the way I'd done at the end of my spanking with the tawse. But I remembered what he said, and I remembered how stern and firm he was.
Yes, I was beginning to understand what he meant when he spoke to me of submissiveness. Between that last spanking and strapping and my next punishment, there were about three months. That time was very shameful for me. He spanked me right in the presence of Mrs. Reike. And afterward I went up to my room and I frigged myself until I had two tremendous pussy creamings. Oh, I wished all the time it was his prick in my pussy instead of my fingers!
Then there was another pause, until about three months before my eighteenth birthday. We had argued and he told me to go to my room, that I was to get a spanking. I went to his room to find the things he required first. Then I went to my room, and I slowly undressed.
Finally he came in. I was ready, and I put on my darkest, sheerest pair of nylons just for the spanking. I enjoyed his eyes on me as I put these on. Then he tied me up and told me to wait that he had something to do. "I am going to test you submission by blindfolding you Betty Jane," he explained. Then it was dark and I heard the sound of footsteps and the door closes.
I don't know how long I waited. But suddenly I heard a strange voice, a man's voice, saying, "Really beautiful, Timothy, really beautiful."
And this was to be the man who watched, me this time, but I did not know this at the time.
I uttered a startled cry.
"Would you like to see how she does?" I heard Mr. Sturgis ask.
"Indeed I would," I heard the man reply.
Then a hand roved all over my bare bottom, and then suddenly tickled my pussy lips. I uttered a groan and squirmed frantically, and I was just dying of shame.
"She's already wet," the stranger said.
Mr. Sturgis said after a while, "This is the hairbrush Betty Jane. I want you to ask me to give you twenty good hard spanks with it."
And so it began. It hurt terribly.
"Are you daydreaming so soon?" Daddy asked at one point because l forgot to say the number. By the ninth spank I was crying, but I hadn't forgotten to count. It was really getting to me, and I could hear the breathing of the other man in the room which increased my indignation.
"Ohhharrr!! Fifteen, oh thank you, master, oh thank you, master, oh how it hurts Daddy," I was crying by then.
Then daddy turned me over to this other man, saying "Now, to test her complete submission, I'm going to untie her, and then I'm going to have her go over to you and ask you to finish the rest of her punishment with a good sound hand spanking. She won't have to count."
It was horrible to have a stranger make me, blindfolded, bend over his lap while he spanked me. But I submitted.
At last it was over and I heard Mr. Sturgis say, "That was a really excellent spanking, and I really think Betty Jane took it very well."
And so I came to my eighteenth birthday.
On that day Mr. Sturgis had a party for me, and Thelma and Holly were there. It was fun and I enjoyed it. About midnight Mr. Sturgis said to me, "You've had all your presents now except one.
With that he took me into his bedroom and a closet door opened, and out came a sturdy brown-haired man who was smiling at me.
"We've met before, I think," he quipped.
I stared at him, not knowing exactly what to make of this. Then Mr. Sturgis said, "You did indeed, Betty Jane. He was the man who watched you get spanked and then finished up your punishment that time. This is my younger brother, David Sturgis. And he will be your husband."
And suddenly I was happier than I have ever been and I could feel my pussy throbbing.
I muttered, "Thank you, Daddy."
Now my life was one of amazing happiness with David. A girl could not want a more wonderful husband than this one who is so close to his brother. Every time he whips me and then makes love to me I think of the times when it was his brother, my father, that had spanked me and how I had wanted him to fuck me. But I am satisfied. I am happy. We fucked and spank, or spank and fuck. And sometimes both at the same time.
