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From: sven@allcon.net (Sven Dirks)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.spanking
Subject: STORY Kelly (1 of ???) (F/F)
Date: 24 Nov 1994 11:43:45 GMT
Organization: AllCon GmbH, Flensburg
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Hi all,

As the title implies - here's a story with explicitly sexual content.
For those who take offense at such things - don't read on, but please
don't force your views onto others.
For those who like to read about young girls bottoms getting forcefully
reddened - enjoy.

Comments are welcome, four more chapters are waiting to be released
to the A.S.S. family. The story may be stored and forwarded but not
commercially published without my written consent.


----------------- >< ----------------------- >< ---------------------

Kelly

Kelly walked the three miles along the rear of the huge, noisy
marshalling yard of Gladstone, Texas. Not that she had to walk
home from school if she didn't want to, but usually she chose to
watch the doings and goings on the tracks and behind the
warehouses, where most of her classmates' fathers earned their
living. Apart from the cookie-factory there were hardly any
employers left, none that needed more than two or three guys
anyway. Kelly was glad to be alone, for she didn't like the
crowded school all that well. Seeing a friend or two was ok, but
having to spend five or six hours with a bunch of 30 giggling
silly creatures sometimes made her even angrier than usual. Kelly
was 15, nervous, slim, and, to her parents and neighbours, a
strange girl.
At the age of seven she had walked five miles to the barber,
clutching the pocket-money she had saved for seven weeks. She had
demanded to be close cropped, quietly staring at the barber's wife
who usually did the children's haircuts for a flat Dollar. Mrs.
Wood had known just how proud Kelly's mother was when she could
show off her daughters long, jet black hair.
Disturbed by the determined child she had finally agreed. Kelly
had watched in the mirror, intently, urging Mrs. Wood to take
another half inch off. "But you'll look like a boy !"
"Exactly."
"What will your mother say, does she know about this ?"
Kelly had shaken her head, lips tightly pressed together.

When she came home, dusty, hungry and tired, her mum had screamed,
bringing her father rushing in from the yard, where he had been
tinkering with the engine of his old Chevy '76.
After much fussing and accusing the story came out. Wailing and
shouting her mother kept on trying to heap guilt and shame on her
daughter, until Kelly's father growled "Stop it, woman," with a
menacing undertone. "She's payed for it, she likes it, and that's
that," he added, ruffling his daughters spikes with big, hard
hands.

To Kelly it was the first of many victories over her mother, who
became even more protective when her father died in an accident.
The insurance about covered mortage and the first year, by then
her mother had found employment at the biscuit-factory, working
the packing machine from seven until four.
Kelly missed her father terribly, though she made a point of not
showing this to the outside world. Everyone but her aunt Natalie
believed it, too, so she was said to be coldhearted and without
feelings. Aunt Nat, as Kelly called her, was a screeching,
loudmouthed, often unkempt blonde with wide hips, big breasts and
no husband. She worked as a controller in the yard, checking off
packing lists all day, or seeing that waggons got loaded quickly
when they were needed to build a new freight train going somewhere
far. She was her dad's elder sister and the black sheep of the
family, rumour had it she had a lover at each fingertip. This was
only part of the truth, as Kelly found out one Tuesday afternoon.
Her schedule at school was such that she could choose wether to
stay and do her homework at school or wether she preferred to do
them at home. This consession to overcrowding suited Kelly just
fine, and with the new schoolyear she would be able to leave at
twelve every Tuesday and Thursday.

She trudged along rusty tracks, seeking the old, forgotten bench
behind a shed that used to be a house. Old Pop Deekins had lived
in it for fifty years, and when the yard had spread to cover his
lands he had died peacefully and quietly before they could force
him off into one of the state-homes for the elderly. This was
history, however, the yard's needs had decreased again with new
technologies and quicker turnaround-times. So the old shed was
just that, and old shed, five miles from nowhere, with an old
wooden bench behind it, where one could sit in the shade and
listen to the mixture of clangs and bangs, birdsong and wildlife,
as the old man had probably done for fifty years. Kelly would
always sit in front of the shed for a few moments, watching the
yard, walk around to the back and sit in the shade, reading a book
or gazing at the prairie.

As she came closer to the weathered hut she heard voices. She
slowed down, not wanting to meet anybody right there and then. The
voices seemed to grow louder, however, so who ever owned them had
to be moving towards her. Quickly she made for the opposite side
of the track, where she walked along the gravel until she was
facing the shed on the other side. One of the voices sounded
familiar to her, so she raised her head a little, to see if she
was right.
To her surprise she was. Aunt Nat was just rounding the corner,
laughing and screeching as usual, followed by a big fellow in
working garb who seemed to be ten years younger than Natalie.
The big guy was smiling too, rubbing his huge hands together.
Kelly hardly believed her eyes when her aunt pulled her sizeable
knickers from underneath her summerdress and threw them onto the
bench. There was a flurry of undistinguishable words and then
Kelly saw Nataly kneeling on the bench, facing the shed. With one
hand her aunt pulled her dress up, displaying her expansive white
bottom.
The guy rubbed his hands once more and then proceded to hit
Natalies soft, quivvering buttocks with hard, sharp slaps of his
heavy hands. Accompanied by ooohs and coos, giggles and happy
squeals he continued to spank aunt Natalie until her big arse was
visibly redhot. Kelly thought her eyes would pop, as she watched
with dry throat and thumping heart. The two on the opposite side
of the track had no idea she was watching, that much she knew, of
course. Yet the whole thing seemed somewhat dangerous.
Natalie and her tormenter exchanged a few more words and then he
used both hands, left, right, left, right, with wide, swinging
arcs. When he landed a smacking blow he'd throw Nat somewhat
aside, only to use the other hand to throw her right back into the
path of the first hand again.
The 'victim' didn't seem to feel victimized at all, for she was
lustily meouwing and urging him on, sticking her arse out as best
as she could. It had, to Kelly's mind, gone on forever when the
broad man finally stopped to nestle with the buttons of his jeans.
To the cryfull delight of aunt Natalie he inserted himself with
one hard thrust into the moist wetness between the fiery red
nates. They grunted and pumped for a few moments before Kelly
found out just how silly people looked when they had what she knew
was called an orgasm. Without any further delay the place behind
the shed was deserted again. Kelly waited another minute before
leisurely walking over to the bench, touching it. There was
nothing left to indicate what had happened her a while ago. Kelly
sat down, munching the remains of her breakfast which she always
carried in her bag. She had had lunch at school, but the long walk
home had made her hungry again. After half an hour of quiet
thoughts she suddenly got up as if she had reached a decision,
which indeed she had.

Even her mother sensed that something was different, but as usual
Kelly declined to reveal what was going through her mind. Her mum
was on about how far apart she her only daughter had become,
lamenting the fact that Kelly showed no gratitude at all towards
her hard working mother. Kelly said nothing, it would be futile to
explain that if her mum would just leave her be she'd be gratefull
enough even to show it at times. She just couldn't be made to
thank someone for trying to make life miserable and boring.

Five days later she went to see aunt Natalie. Knowing her aunt
spent Sunday mornings in her garden Kelly rounded the house
without bothering to ring. Natalie was not pottering around the
sparse, dry vegetables, she was sitting in an old chair, a mug
next to her and a book on her lap. The title was hugely lettered
in screaming colors, the book itself thick and printed on cheap
paper. Not worth bothering with, Kelly decided, dismissing her
reservations about disturbing her aunt's peace and quiet.
"Hello, there, Kelly, what are you doing in town on a sunday
morning, shouldn't you be in church ?"
Kelly smiled and replied: "Shall we go ?"
Natalie emitted a screeching laugh.
"The cheek of the girl," she panted, "I bet your mother is pulling
her hair out again for fear of her little daughters soul."
Kelly nodded somberly, quickly asking: "You think I should go ?"
"Naw, don't waste your time on that. It's what you do or don't
that counts, and HE'll know, wether you go to church or not."
Kelly sat down on one of the less rickety chairs, looking at her
aunt. "Why do you let yourself be spanked ?"
Her aunt swallowed several times, without saying a word. It had to
be one of her longest quiet spells so far, Kelly decided.
"You do have a way of shocking an old woman !"
"You're not old. You're old, but not old-old."
"Thank you," Natalie replied, the sarcasm completely lost on
Kelly.
"I mean, how can you ? I hurts, doesn't it ?"
Natalie visibly gathered her thoughts.
"Well, you just gotta like it enough, then the pain's fine, it's
what you want. A big arse helps, too," she smiled, slowly
regaining her loudmouthed, happy ways. She continued: "Or else you
like the guy who wants to do it to you enough to let him. If it's
both there's probably no end to what you can take."
"And you ?"
"I just like to get my fat arse whacked. I don't care about the
guy as long as he's nice and keeps his cool about it."
"How can one find out, I mean, wether one likes it or not ?"
Natalie laughed out loud. "Try it out kid, try it out," she
hollered, clearly ending the subject. She rose, reached for some
of gardening tools next to the table and pottered off. Kelly sat
thinking for a while, before she followed her aunt into the weeds.

On Monday she felt a little sick in the morning. She told her
mother, who instantly started to flutter about the house, asking
wether she ought to call at work and tell them she wouldn't be
able to come.
"Come on, mum," Kelly urged, "I'm nearly sixteen, I can spend a
morning in bed by myself."
"But you need tea, and medicine, maybe a doctor..."
"I need some rest and an aspirin, that's all it's going to take,
mum."
"Are you sure child ?"
"Yes, I am sure."
In the end her mother went to work, not without complaining about
the thanklessness of her daughter again.
Kelly sighed. Sometimes her mum could be worse than the headache
she was feeling.
She went to bed again, sleeping for another hour. The day was
becoming hotter and hotter, by nine she threw her blanket off for
it was too uncomfortable. The aspirin had helped, too, so she rose
and made herself some tea. Still completely naked she slumped into
her favourite armchair, the tea to her right and a book in her
lap. The half drawn blinds dimmed the bright sunshine enough for
it to be comfortable.
Kelly tried to concentrate on the book but somehow her thoughts
drifted away again. To her mind sprung the image of her aunt,
laughing as she told her niece to 'try it out'. A slender hand
wound it's way along her legs to the newly discovered pleasure
spot between her swelling labial lips. She knew full well that she
would thinking rather incoherently once she aroused herself enough
to matter, but she didn't care, knowing she was alone.
Slowly her limbs slid down, her body turned and without concious
effort she was kneeling before the seat. Her hands stroking her
nates she thought about how it would be like if she was hit on her
pert girls bottom.
She couldn't bring herself to use her own hands on herself, this
was too silly. She rubbed her little knob some more, sticking her
arse out, imagining some faceless brute to slap it. Then she
remembered the slippers under her bed, which she usually wore in
winter. She pulled one out, blew the dust away and smoothed the
thick leather sole. Her throat was dry as parchment, her heart
thumping. She decided she'd give herself a dozen good whacks on
each bottomcheek, may it would cure her of this silliness once and
for all.
She found it difficult at first to excert any amount of force
behind her own back, but then she learned how to hold the slipper
sideways in order to deliver sharp blows. She would not count the
first three, but start out fresh.
Sticking her bottom out some more she drew the first blow with all
the might she could muster. The heat exploded on her right
buttock, the pain nowhere near as strong as she had thought it
might be. Panting, her throat sore, she delivered the first dozen
onto the right. She found that she could use the right hand for
the left side too, and so she smacked herself firmly onto the left
side until the symmetry of heat was restored.
She knelt, tears of shame brimming her lower lid, touching her
warm buttocks. To make it a real punishment Kelly told herself she
deserved at least another two dozen on either side, 'and you
better make sure thei're good and hard ones,' she told herself.
Her excitement rose together with the heat, making her go for
another two dozen. She repeated this several more times, working
herself into a sweaty, burning frenzy.
She let out a deep meouw, throwing the slipper aside and rubbing
herself where the sensitive spot demanded attention. She stretched
her fiercely glowing behind, vastly enjoying the sensation.
The shame returned later, long after a fierce orgasm and the
ensuing peacefullness. Redcheeked she hid the slipper again and
put on a pair of leggins. The fabric somehow intensified the
warmth on her rear again. 'Oh no, you won't,' she admonished
herself, making her way into the kitchen. She had another cup of
tea and began her daily routine of clearing up and cleaning. Later
she called a classmate, asking about the homework, a duty she had
always been particular with.

---------------------- >< ------------------------ >< ----------------

Sven