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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to o
o be typed therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Teenage Rebel (M-f, spanked teen, sex)
by The Flogmaster - 1995
________________________________________________________________________
Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!
Copyright (C) 1995 by FM. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via
electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as
long as the text is not modified and this copyright is included, but no
other form of publication is allowed. This document may contain material
of an ADULT nature. *READ AT YOUR OWN RISK*. Anything offensive is your
own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only and does
not necessarily represent the viewpoints of the author or the electronic
source where this was obtained. All characters are _fictional_ and any
resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.
________________________________________________________________________
I Was A Teenage Rebel
It was five to seven. I was wearing my jeans and a light shirt but
I was cold standing near the clear lake. The sun had disappeared behind
the trees but it was still light, though it would be pitch dark in an
hour or so.
I heard a sound behind me and the Major stepped out from behind the
trees. He shook his head when he saw me. "I was afraid you'd be here,"
he said. He was wearing jeans and warm hunting jacket. He took this off
and put it around my shoulders. "It's cold out here," he whispered.
"Follow me."
I followed without question and without thought. I tried to watch him
walking before me, though it was dark under the trees. I had never seen
him in jeans. During the day he always wore shorts.
We walked a long time. Neither of us spoke. There was something
oppressive in the air. I was feeling excited and a little worried. Where
were we heading? I had never been this far from camp, nor on this side.
We cut along the north side of the lake and headed into the mountains.
He seemed to know exactly where he wanted to go, stepping confidently
through the dark woods. I hugged his coat around me and hurried closer
to him. It was cold and dark.
Soon we emerged at a little clearing. There was a tiny cabin at the
other end, and stack of freshly cut logs stood by the doorway. There
were more logs under a lean-to on the other side of the cabin. Parked
under the lean-to was a large motorcycle. A faint smoke trail emerged
from the chimney.
"Welcome," he spoke proudly, and I knew we were at his home. My
emotions now were really confused and was rather nervous. Games and
silliness were one thing, but this was something else entirely. What did
he have in mind? I was now beginning to regret following him so
mindlessly.
He opened the front door and we entered. It was small but very clean
and neat, efficient. There was a couch and some chairs before the
fireplace, and a small rug. On the other side was a bed neatly made. A
heavily-ladden bookshelf hung over the head of the bed. A chest of
drawers was against the wall at the foot of the bed. To the left was
obviously the kitchen, with a small fridge, stove, and a table and two
chair. Fastened against the wall were two cabinets. Below them was a
sink and small countertop area. The place was very small, very bare,
very simple.
The fire was warm and inviting, and I eagerly stepped forward to it.
"It is a very nice place," I said.
"Thanks. It's small, but I like it." He added a log to the fire causing
it to roar up brightly. He headed into the kitchen. "Would you like some
water to drink?"
"Sure, if that's what you have."
"It's all I drink," he said smiling as he poured two glasses from a
cold pitcher from the fridge. I took my glass and sipped it before the
fireplace. It was good, ice cold and fresh.
He took his coat from me and hung it on a peg on the back of the door.
"Now DeeDee," he said, and I saw he was serious again. "Do you know why
you are here?"
I blushed a little but hoped he couldn't see--the only light came from
the blazing fireplace. "Not really," I said.
"You are here because you are a very naughty girl. Worse than that, you
have no shame at being a naughty girl. And far, far worse than that, you
have no idea what being a naughty girl means. You don't know the price
of what you are purchasing, at that is terribly, terribly, wrong."
I stared at him but said nothing. I wasn't exactly sure what he meant.
He stepped closer to me and looked into my eyes. "DeeDee, there's
nothing wrong with being a bad girl, if that's what you really want. But
it takes a lot of courage to be a bad girl. Are you sure you've got that
courage? Are you _really_ a rebel?"
He spoke quietly, confidently. He voice held concern but was stern. He
was very serious. I shook my head. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"I mean, DeeDee, are you ready to take the consequences of your
actions? Look at you. You're almost a woman. Being a bad girl and being
a bad woman are two very different things. Are you sure you are ready to
take the consequences of being a bad woman? Can you even take the
consequences of being a bad girl?"
"What are the consequences?"
He smiled. It was another devilish smile. It made my knees weak. "Ah,
that is just the point, DeeDee. One never knows, exactly, the
consequences of any action. One can project. One can hope. But one never
knows for sure. Except that there are consequences. That _is_ for sure."
"Am I supposed to decide something without knowing the consequences
then?"
"Of course. In just a moment you will decide if you really want to be a
bad girl. If not, I'll take you back to the camp. If so, you'll take the
consequences."
"But you won't tell me what they will be."
Again the wolfish smile. "Of course not. You will be punished, that
much is certain. All bad girls are punished. How, when, to what extent,
who knows. But you will suffer the consequences." There was a pause.
Then he spoke softly, so softly I had to strain to hear him over the
cracking of the fire. "Are you a rebel, DeeDee? Or are you just
pretending?"
There was no hesitation on my part. Or rather, the hesitation came
_after_ I spoke. "I'm a rebel!" I swallowed the rest of my water and
prayed I wasn't making a big mistake.
The Major's beamed. "Excellent choice. I hope you enjoy your punishment
to the maximum!"
I gave him my sultriest smile. "So what's my punishment?"
"Patience, patience, girl. All in good time. First things first. Take
off your clothes."
I stared at him. I wasn't sure what to think. This wasn't beyond my
expectations, exactly, but it was much earlier than I had expected. Was
he serious?
"Now, DeeDee! Take off your clothes. All of them. This is the first of
your consequences. Public exposure. So take everything off. Everything."
The next thing I knew I was taking off my shirt. By the time I'd done
that I knew I couldn't stop. I'd already gone too far. I kicked off my
shoes, slipped off my jeans. Now I hesitated, but he tilted his head
like he was expecting something. I took a deep breath and removed my
bra.
Like I said, I might have been only fourteen, but I looked like sixteen
or seventeen. Once, when I was with my girlfriend Anna who was
babysitting a neighbor's kid, a woman at the drugstore thought little
Andy was my son! But until now, no adult man had ever really seen me
naked. It was exhilarating. It was terrifying. I was nervous and
blushing like a fool, but I could feel heat between my legs.
The Major just nodded and took my bra and added to the pile of clothes
and looked at me expectantly. I took another breath and pulled down my
underwear. Now my sex was burning hot. I was sweating all over and all
trembly inside. I gave the Major my panties and stood awkwardly, trying
to shield myself but knowing full well it was foolish. There was too
much area to cover.
The Major smiled and took all my clothes and piled them in the far
corner behind the kitchen table. When he returned he silently took my
hands and placed them on my neck behind my head. "Keep your hands
there," he instructed sternly, and I felt a shiver go through me. "And
stare straight ahead. Don't look around." I was trembling, but he
smiled.
"Enjoying being a bad girl? Isn't it _fun_ being naughty?" I didn't
know what to say, so I kept silent. I felt open, exposed. He could see
everything now. He walked behind me then came around front. I could feel
his eyes burning into every private part of me. They came down my back,
curved over my buttocks, slid down my legs, came up my legs, lingered
around my thighs, my sex, my stomach, my breasts, and finally settled on
my face.
"Very beautiful. You are very beautiful, DeeDee. Very beautiful. A
treasure. A shame to see you waste it all being a rebel." I didn't say
anything. "All right," he said. "Spread your legs. Pull them as far
apart as you can."
I stared at him, speechless. This was too much. I shook my head and
pulled my hands down to cover myself, pressing my legs tightly together,
even though that only antagonized my sex.
The Major started to speak, then stopped. "All right. We'll save that
one for later. But trust me. Full exposure is a part of the
consequences." He appeared to think for a moment. "OK. Lie down, here,
on your stomach. Put your hands behind your neck again." He motioned to
the rug in front of the fireplace and helped me into position. I
co-operated without a sound.
It was awkward, lying there like that. My buttocks felt exposed as he
towered above me looking down on them. My chin was grinding into the
smelly rug, and my breasts where painfully being pushed into the carpet.
I could feel my nipples grinding against the rough fibers. It was
terribly erotic and I felt a slight wetness between my legs and I
blushed, again hoping he couldn't see.
Suddenly he was kneeling beside me. His left hand went under my chest
and grabbed my left breast. He squeezed it hard and pinched the nipple.
Before I could protest he was doing the same with the right breast. His
hand pulled away and left my breasts aching for his touch. There was
more wetness between my legs.
Then, while his left hand held my hands still, his right touched my
buttocks. He caressed them a moment, and then began to massage them,
squeezing and pinching them hard. I let out a sharp cry and tears came
to my eyes, but he appeared not to notice.
He began pushing and pulling at my buttocks. Pulling them apart,
pulling one up and the other down, then reversing. When he stopped I was
breathing hard and I felt terribly drained. My bottom felt larger than
normal and burned like my nipples. I was positive there was a small
puddle of moisture beneath me.
Suddenly something cold and heavy laid across my buttocks. I strained
my neck to be able to see. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a
glimpse of large wooden paddle resting on my bottom.
The Major spoke softly in my ear, soothing words that alternately
terrified and alarmed me, yet somehow I remained calm. "DeeDee," he
whispered, but his voice was stern. "I am going to spank you now. I am
going to spank you terribly hard. You are going to experience more pain
than you have ever experienced in your entire life. But you are going to
lie quietly are take the pain, DeeDee. You are going to receive the
paddle with pleasure. You are going to crave every blow, DeeDee, because
you know you deserve it. You deserve far worse, far, far, far, worse,
DeeDee, and you will receive it, don't you worry. But for now, I am
simply going to spank you very hard and you are going to cry and moan
under my paddle. You are not going to speak or cry out. You will not
even think of moving your hands from the back of your neck. No, you will
lie quietly and suffer, DeeDee, suffer many, many hard spanks. You will
suffer because you deserve it. And you will moan, DeeDee. You will moan
and groan and shed beautiful wet tears to show me how much you suffer
and how much you deserve this spanking. Do you understand, DeeDee?"
There was a stunned silence, and finally I managed a whimper and slight
nod. I was too petrified to move. I could only lie there and dread what
I knew was about to happen, wonder how much it would really hurt. I
could only lie there and tremble.
Yet a part of me was eager. A part of me agreed fully with the Major. I
did deserve to be spanked. How many awful things had I done in my life?
Had I ever really been punished? Not really. I did deserve this. I
deserved much worse than this. So I lay there, my sex wet, my nipples
aching, my bottom bare and exposed, my face red.
I gasped at the first blow. I could feel my buttocks trembling, the
stinging pain radiating from them. I struggled for composure when the
second blow struck, and then the third, the fourth, and a fifth. Tears
were pouring down my face now. I was whimpering, my whole body
shivering. The pain was intense. All I could feel was my buttocks. All I
could think about was the burning pain. More blows rained down. I
struggled to keep my hands behind my neck. I tried to tell myself it
didn't really hurt. But I didn't believe it.
The blows were hard. The paddle was thin and strong. The sound was
frightfully loud and echoed through the tiny room. It made me feel very
small. The paddle bounced my bottom up and down. I could feel my hips
rising and falling with the blows and I tried to stop them, to hold them
still, but I could not. My whole body vibrated under the blows. I could
feel my nipples, again. They were being rubbed raw against the carpet.
At first there was no feeling between my legs. The pain of my buttocks
was all I could feel. But as the paddling continued without any sign of
abating, I lay trembling, moaning and whimpering under the blows. Most
of me was blinded my the pain, but a part of me was envisioning the
whole process. I could see myself lying there, naked and quietly
struggling and suffering, tears wetting the carpet. I could see the
Major kneeling beside me, the paddle in his strong right hand flashing
down hard, again and again, no mercy, just hard, fast blows. But mostly
I could imagine my buttocks, naked and white from lack of sun, bouncing
and dancing under the paddle spanks, the white skin reddening to a
bright, fiery, sunburn. It was red in patches now, I knew, but as he
began to move the paddle around, I knew my entire bottom would soon be
the color of red meat. In fact, that's how my buttocks felt. They felt
huge and enormous and raw, and I now groaned loudly, unashamed. I now
moved my body violently with the paddle without thought or control.
Dimly I could sense a deep wetness between my legs. The paddle was now
spanking the lower, more generous portion of my buttocks. I groaned
loudly and received the spanks without complaint, my body jerking in
timing with the blows. I was now rising off the floor completely when
the blows struck. I would sink back down in between and then rise to
receive the next spank. I was utterly consumed. I could think of nothing
other than the image of that paddle striking my bottom, the white skin
reddening, the terrible crack ringing in my ears. The pain had gone
beyond feeling. It was still there, but I was only dimly conscious of
it. I was transported, gone. I deserved it and I received it. It was
simple.
Time was forgotten. I have no idea how long I lay there while the Major
spanked me, or how many blows I received. It seemed like forever, and
the blows were countless. Later, when I tried to reconstruct what
happened, I figured it must have been at least five minutes, but it
could just as easily have been twenty. Even five minutes would have been
a couple hundreds spanks at the rate he was going.
But suddenly it was over. My body was jerking in rhythm to a paddle
that no longer descended. It took me a moment to realize it was over. I
collapsed, sobbing like a baby. My bottom radiated heat like the sun. I
would have sworn it was outshining the fire. I lay exhausted, drained,
and consumed. I swear I have never felt as good as I did at that moment.
I felt like what I imagine long-distance runners feel at the end of the
race. I was moving on instinct, and suddenly its all over, I'm in pain,
but it feels so good because I know it's over.
Something touched my bottom and I cried out in pain. "Shhhhh,"
whispered the Major. "I know it hurts, but this will help it heal." He
smoothed an ointment across the punished skin of my buttocks. It felt
cooling but stung after a moment. His hands felt rough and every time
his fingers left my skin my buttocks were in agony.
The Major helped me to stand. "There, that's better. Now, how about
that demonstration I asked for earlier?" I stared at him blankly, trying
not to think about my throbbing backside.
"Spread your legs, DeeDee," he said, smiling. "Or would you like more
of this?" He held up the paddle. I quickly moved my knees as far apart
as I could. Ripples of pain washed though my buttocks, but I ignored
them and stood awkwardly while the Major stepped forward and examined
me.
I've been examined professionally, but I must say that the Major did as
thorough a job as any doctor, perhaps better. He poked his fingers and
caused me feelings I had never known I could experience. I trembled but
was too dazed and confused to protest. I felt weak and shaky. Everything
seemed like something out of a dream. The pain was real, but even that
seemed fuzzy and sensual. My sex felt hot and wet. I could felt a trace
of moisture dripping down my leg.
"Excellent! You are a very healthy girl. Not quite as naughty as I
might have expected, but very healthy. Surely there's some rebel left in
you. Huh?" He put his hand under my chin and forced me to look at him.
His eyes were as gentle and as kind as ever. His grip was firm and his
smell made me feel weak inside. I didn't say anything.
"All right, let's try some more consequences and see how you handle
them." I was speechless. More consequences? Yes, many more, he said. He
told me I had been a very naughty girl indeed, and many, many
punishments remained. That first spanking was just the introduction.
Now he attached a rope to a hook in the ceiling. He adjusted the length
of the rope and told me to grab it with both hands. I had to stand on
tiptoe to do it, but I managed, though it caused pain to flash across my
buttocks.
"Don't let go of that rope for any reason," he said. Next he produced a
thick leather strap which he showed me. I bit my lip and said nothing.
The first blow was across my thighs and I trembled and tried not to move
my legs but could not. The stinging was incredible. He struck me again,
and then several times in rapid succession. My thighs were stinging now,
and he really went at it. Blow after blow landed, and I couldn't keep
still.
"Jog in place," he whispered not stopping the whipping. I ran like dogs
were after me. It helped ease the pain a little, to run, but I could
only imagine what he saw, me running, my burning buttocks bouncing
before his eyes, my reddening thighs bright and trembling, my legs
moving rapidly.
He moved down to my calves, whipping them mercilessly, and then
returned to my thighs. I was getting tired of running, and I slowed
down. A blow landed full across my buttocks. The pain was fierce and I
was running full speed again. He gave me a few more across the buttocks
for good measure, and then it was my thighs again.
When he finally stopped I just hung there, stunned, exhausted, and too
weak to move. He took me down and laid me before the fire. He retrieved
a blanket from somewhere and gave it to me. "Go to sleep. We'll continue
later. Don't worry," he said as I opened my mouth to speak, "you won't
be missed at the camp. I've cleared everything."
I didn't really want to stay there. I wanted to leave, to go home and
cry, but I curled up in the blanket before the warm fire and in seconds
I was asleep. I don't know how long I slept, but suddenly he was shaking
me. "It's time to get up, DeeDee," he said. "We've got more lessons. Do
you need to use the restroom?"
I nodded dumbly and he led me to the door leaving my blanket on the
floor. My body felt stiff, my buttocks were very sore. Outside it was
freezing and dark. I still had nothing on. I hugged the Major for warmth
and followed him around to the back of the cabin where there was an
outhouse. I hurried and did my thing--I swear I've never been faster. In
just a moment we were back inside and I stood shivering in front of the
fire.
I started to pick up the blanket but he shook his head. For some reason
I obeyed. I didn't even care if he saw me naked. I just wanted to get
warm. He stood watching me for a few minutes without saying anything.
Slowly I came back to room temperature and began to get nervous under
his stare. He was looking at my buttocks now, and I wondered how they
looked, all reddened and blistered, I supposed.
"When was the last time you were hand-spanked?"
His voice startled me. I turned around slowly. "What kind of question
is that?"
He repeated it. I stared at the ground for a moment. What could I tell
him? What did he want to know? I didn't know. So I told him the truth.
"Last night was my first spanking of any kind, period."
"Really?" That devilish smile again. It made me very nervous.
"You're not--"
"Of course. You have much to learn yet. Though I must say you are
learning quite rapidly." Without another word he sat on the couch and
motioned me over. Reluctantly I obeyed. He took my hand and placed it
against his crotch. My eyes went wide. I had never really touched a man
there before. I had seen pictures, but never even seen one in real life.
Now I was touching one. He grinned. "What would it take to get you to
put it in your mouth?"
I shook my head. This was really too much. There was no way I would do
that, no way at all. Almost instantly, it seemed, I found myself across
his lap, my breasts and long hair hanging down, my buttocks up in the
air. His left hand moved my hands to their position on the back of my
neck, his right hand touched my bottom. I groaned, anticipating the
inevitable.
The first few slaps sounded louder than they hurt. But then the pain
began to sink in, and soon I was trembling and groaning as he spanked
me. The blows were hard. His hand was heavy and firm, and he spanked me
out of rhythm, catching me off guard. He spanked my bottom mostly,
though sometimes he slapped my thighs. The worst was the way he'd move
around. He spanked my whole bottom. For a while he'd just spank my right
buttock and then he'd switch to the left. Then he'd strike the
thin-skinned upper portion, and then switch to the lower part. Sometimes
he'd strike both buttocks at once, other times he'd alternate. Very
quickly I was crying, my tears dripping to the floor, my breathing
heavy. On and on he went, the pain growing, starting to really hurt,
until I began to wonder if this weren't hurting as much or even more
than last night's paddling. I thought for sure he was almost done, but
he continued, turning me slightly so he could get a better angle on the
side of my right buttock. He spanked here for a very long time, then
turned me over and gave me the same on the left side. It hurt terribly,
and soon I was gasping for breath, moaning loudly in spite of myself.
Suddenly he rolled me over and slapped my breasts. I was too surprised
to resist. He slapped them again and again, heavy blows that made them
shift right and left across my chest. The blows didn't really sting;
they made my breasts feel heavy and the nipples grew hard.
Then he had me over and he spanked my bottom some more. "Tell me when
you've had enough," he said, continuing to spank me.
"Enough!" I gasped.
"So you'll comply? With your mouth?"
Suddenly I was angry. Did he think it was that easy? He'd just spank me
a few times and watch me roll over and fetch? No way! "Go to hell," I
said.
I received an extra hard spank for that. But that was just the
beginning. Now he really began to spank me hard. I thought he had been
spanking me hard before, but now I knew those were just friendly
lovepats.
These blows shook my whole body. He gave me a whole series of them,
impossibly hard, quick, sharp blows that knocked the wind clean out of
me. I gasped and lay silent, and for several minutes the only sound was
the deafening slaps echoing throughout the cabin. Then he shifted to a
fresh spot, and a groaned anew. The skin of my buttocks was burning, it
flamed, and he heaped coals upon it. Suddenly he left my buttocks and
punished my thighs for a while, and my buttocks lay open, bare, exposed
to the air. They felt so naked and exposed and painful. I would have
sworn I could never have put on my jeans if I had had the opportunity--my
buttocks were two or three times as large as normal. They felt heavy and
leaden, and the heat from them radiated through me and throughout my
sex. I could feel myself dripping on the Major's leg. But all too soon
he was spanking my poor bottom once again.
"Had enough?" he asked pleasantly at one point.
I hesitated a moment and then said, "Never!" To my surprise my voice
wavered. But this seemed to be something he could handle. Without a word
he picked up the paddle and began to use it. Immediately I began to wish
I'd said yes. Now my buttocks were boiling. The paddle was heavy and
thundered down across my buttocks. Blow after blow landed, and all I
could do was lay there and tremble and accept it. But there was still
some rebel left in me. When he finally paused again, I calmly said,
"Please give me more," and actually turned my buttocks towards him!
Unfortunately for me he complied eagerly, and soon I was groaning and
dancing in his lap.
Then he set me down on the floor on my hands and knees and took up the
strap. I expected more of the same, but suddenly he struck a blow
between my legs and across my raw sex. It was torture. It was ecstasy. I
couldn't move. Again and again he whipped my sex mercilessly. The pain
was incredible, but each stroke also gave my sex pleasure. I do not know
how long this lasted, but suddenly I forgot who I was. I could remember
nothing except I was only consciouse of being punished and deserving it.
And I knelt there and received it, I spread my legs to receive it, and
when the opportunity presented itself, I took his member into my mouth
and gave him pleasure while he continued to whip me, whipping me all the
harder as he achieved climax.
When it was over we were both silent for a long time. Finally he spoke.
"My little rebel," he said, "are you enjoying your punishment?"
I nodded. "It is more difficult to rebel than I thought."
He smiled that devilish smile again. "You think you have learned
something, do you?"
"Of course."
"But you have learned next to nothing! Your education is just
beginning. The real punishment comes next."
I stared at him, astonished. "But . . ."
"Ssshhhh." He closed my lips with a finger. "Do not think about the
future, the past, the present. Do not think. Just live. Be. Experience.
Do not question, do not wonder, simply accept your fate. You are to be
punished. You know that. You do not know the how, but that will come.
You cannot change it or avoid it. Simply accept it."
And so I remained quiet and tried to forget my fears. I knew that more
was to come, and it would be much, much worse. But how could it get
worse? How could I be punished more thoroughly than I already had been?
Only too soon I would find out.
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