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Subject: Jessica Lynn Part II (M/fff, nc)
From: Corporal <dbrett@fast.net>
Date: 1998

Jessica Lynn, Part 2

Jessica Lynn 1998 Corporal. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to copy for personal use only. Any other use is prohibited. Permission for any other use must be obtained by contacted Corporal at dbret@fast.net.

This story is fiction and contains themes which some may consider to be of an adult or offensive nature. If you are not an adult under the laws of your state or country do not proceed further. This story is for entertainment purposes only and may not represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source. All characters are entirely fictional and any resemblance of any kind, to real people living or dead, is purely coincidental.

* * *

Jessica Lynn Part II

For the better part of a week, I had no occassion to escort Jessie or any of my own daughters to the spanking chair. And when you have five children in the home, I believe this to be a major accomplishment. Not that there weren't some minor problems mind you, they just weren't serious enough to merit that severe of measures on my part.

Jessie quickly became a part of our family, taking part in all our activities, going with us to Jennifer's ball games, cuddling up with Danielle, Meghan, and myself for a story before bedtime, even taking part in a pillow fight that required some intensive vacuuming after the fact. In fact, I was beginning to think that the one session on the night of her arrival had done the trick. I was just a bit premature in my evaluation of the situation.

On the Sunday after Jessie's arrival, we were scheduled to go to departmental picnic at a nearby lake. The evening before had been a bit of a problem with Danielle throwing a temper tantrum for some reason or another. Her actions landed her in the spanking room for a quick but meaningful session over my lap, but being only five her little bottom was only treated to a mild version of what the other girls experienced for their misbehavior. Sunday's events resulted in quite a different type of experience -- one that was novel for me.

As we left for the lake, I instructed the girls in some of the safety issues I felt necessary. First and formost was that they were not to go out on the lake in any of the canoes without adult supervision. The second, aimed more at Mary Beth, was an instruction not to wander off into the woods with any of the young men at the picnic. I think you can guess what happened.

We had been at the picnic perhaps an hour. We had eaten, and games were beginning. I was looking for Jennifer in hopes of recruiting her for my softball team, but was unable to find her. Upon looking around, I noticed that the only children of mine that I could locate were Meghan and Danielle. Jennifer, Mary Beth, and Jessica were nowhere to be found. I called Meg and Danni over and asked them where the others were only to be told that they had no idea and were, in fact looking for Jessie themselves. Looking around, I located Dean Lorenzo's wife and was grateful when she agreed to watch Meg and Danni. I then went looking for my prodigal children.

My first inclination was to head down to the lake, but reasoned that they would surely not display such flagrent disobedience. So I headed across the field and toward the woods. I must say that I did not exactly find Mary Beth in the woods. I found her exiting the woods, hand-in-hand with the Sean Davidson, the eighteen-year-old son of one of our history instructors. She did not immediately see me and so continued on in her romantic dream walk across the field. I was about ten feet away when she caught sight of me and quickly dropped Sean's hand. I remember she stammered somewhat in her greeting to me.

"D-d-d-daddy? Hi. Uhhhh, I was just coming back to see if you wanted to uhhh . . . to uhh . . . to play softball or something."

"Hmmmm, yes I can see that Mary Beth. May I speak with you privately for a second?"

"Uhh, sure Daddy. What's wrong?"

Mary Beth was not very good when she tried to brazen something out. She said goodbye to Sean, told him she would see him later, and followed me back to a small gazebo. I was determined not show anger at this time, but I greatly disappointed in my oldest child. When we sat down in the gazebo, I confronted her.

"Mary Beth why did you go into the woods with Sean?"

"Daddy! I wasn't in the woods with Sean! Really!"

"Would you care to try again Mary Beth? I saw you coming out of the woods with him."

"Oh. But, Daddy we were only in there for a minute. He wanted to show me where some. . . uhhh . . . some . . . uhhhhhhh . . . some ground hogs were living."

"Is that right? Well now, if that were true then we might have a different situation here."

"But it is true, Daddy! It is! Really it is!"

"Is it now? Well look at that over there!"

"Look at what? Daddy, what are you talking about?"

"Over there Mary Beth. See it? Over there in the field. That ground hog is relocating from the woods into the field. See? It's dug a new home for itself, just that fast."

"Huh? Whaddya mean?"

"I mean, Mary Beth, that ground hogs DO NOT live in the woods! They dig their burrows in open fields!"

"Oh."

"We will discuss this further in my office when we get home."

"Oh, noooooo! Pleeeeeeease Daddy! I'm sorreeeeeee! I really am! I don't want to go to your office! Pleeeeeeease?"

"You should have thought of that before you disobeyed me. We will finish this discussion later. Right now I need to find Jennifer and Jessica."

"Uhhhhh . . . . I think they went down to the lake."

"With whom?"

"I think they went with a bunch of other kids."

"No adults?"

"I don't think so."

"I see."

Despite her own situation, I do believe Mary Beth was positively delighted that she was not the only one in hot water. I instructed her to wait for me at the picnic table while I went to look for the other two miscreants. As Mary Beth trudged away with a somewhat hopeless look on her face -- you know the one, similar to that of all those old-time movie actors as they are sentenced to some horrible fate -- I headed in the direction of the path to the lake. By this time I was struggling to not allow my anger show. On the way, I exchanged pleasantries with several of my colleagues, smiled at several children, and all the while walked purposefully toward the lake. I had not walked far when I heard the sound of a severe scolding coming up the path. Coming around the bend was Mrs. Cosgrove, our department secretary, following her eight-year-old son, Timothy. Timothy was soaking wet and crying. Crying not because he was soaking wet, but rather, I think, because every few steps Mrs. Cosgrove delivered another stinging smack to the seat of his tight, wet shorts. Each smack brought another howl of protest followed by a promise of more to come "once I get you home, young man!" Following Mrs. Cosgrove and Timothy were Jennifer and Jessica, who were equally sodden and very nearly as distraught in their appearance. Seeing me, Mrs. Cosgrove stopped her lecturing, threatening, and swatting long enough to inform me of what had transpired.

"Dr. Brett! Thank goodness I found you! I went looking for Timothy and where do I find him? Out on the lake, in a canoe, with Jennifer and Jessica. As I approached and called to him, he stood, the canoe tipped, and the three of them went in with the various fishes and water fowl. Fortunately, the Bloomenthal twins were nearby and managed to extricate them quickly."

"Thank you Mrs. Cosgrove, and I will be certain to thank Melissa and Jonathan."

Mrs. Cosgrove continued on, again punctuating her lecture with more assaults on Timothy's already, I am quite certain, stinging bottom. I made a mental note to call the Bloomenthals that evening to thank the twins. Then I faced my two delinquents.

"Well? What do you two have to say for yourselves?"

Jennifer spoke first, followed quickly by Jessica.

"I'm sorry Daddy, I didn't mean to disobey you. I really didn't."

"I'm sorry, too, Dr. Brett. I guess we really messed up didn't we?"

"Why on Earth would you go down to the lake, let alone get into a canoe, after I had specifically told you not to?"

"All the other kids were going, Daddy! We figured that since Melissa and Jonathan were there and they're eighteen it would be alright."

"It might have been alright, if you had asked me, AND if you had been in the canoe with Melissa and Jonathan. But that is not what happened, is it?"

"No, Daddy."

"No, Dr. Brett."

"Well, then, I guess we will finish this discussion in my office, when we get home."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir."

Well, now wasn't this just wonderful! Now I had three young ladies I was going to have to spank that evening. Not something that particularly appealed to me. Nor did I look forward to it any more than I am sure they were looking forward to it. I followed the two back up the trail, their sneakers squeaking and squishing as they trudged uncomfortably back to the picnic area. As we approached, Danni came running up, eyes wide.

"WOWWWWW! What happened to you two? Didja fall in the lake or somethin'. Are you in trouble, too?"

"Shu'up Danni! Mindjer own biznis!"

"WOWWWW! I'll betchur gonna get spanked, too, just like Mary Beth!"

Danni giggled and three voices chorused.

"SHUT UP DANIELLE! IT'S NONE UH YOUR BUSINESS!"

I arrived at that point and steered Danni away from the condemned.

"Danielle, honey, perhaps it would be better if you did not go near those three right now. They are in a bit of trouble and may not want to be teased about it right now."

"I wasn't teasin', Daddy. I wasn't."

"I know honey, but why not just steer clear for a while. We're going to be leaving in a minute anyway."

"Okay. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about, my little princess. Now just go say goodbye to your friends. Okay?"

I gave Meghan basically the same instructions, said my goodbyes to the rest of the Department---received some knowing looks and smiles---and herded my charges to the van. The ride home was very quiet. Mary Beth relegated herself to the far back seat, sort of a self-imposed exile that said, "I am treated so unfairly, after all I am fourteen years old." Jennifer and Jessica sat in the middle seat quietly whispering. Meghan sat there too, trying to distance herself from the wetness seaping across the seat. Danni sat up front with me, chattering periodically, but mostly remaining rather quiet. The ride home took about twenty minutes -- time enough for me to glance occassionally in the rear-view mirror and watch as the "picnic three" became ever more nervous with each passing mile. As we pulled into the drive I noted that Jennifer was quietly crying, Mary Beth was doing her best to look very adult and dignified, and Jessica was biting her lower lip. I had been trying to decide who would be first to visit the spanking chair and now the decision was made for me. Jennifer was obviously the most upset, so I would deal with her first so she could calm down. Jessica would go second and Mary Beth last.

I parked the van and asked Meghan to please take Danni to the bottom of the yard to play on the swings for a while. Then I ushered the other three into the house. Outside my office, I placed three old, wooden chairs and told the three of them to sit down. I decided a lecture beforehand was in order.

"Do the three of you understand why I am so angry with you?"

Three heads nodded, and I noticed that tears were now hanging from all eyelashes. This was going to be a very unpleasant half-hour or so -- for all of us.

"The three of you deliberately disobeyed me! Jennifer and Jessica you could have been seriously hurt or killed if the twins had not fished you out of the lake. And you Mary Beth! You went into the woods with a boy four years older than you! Want to tell me what you were doing in the woods? Your lipstick -- which I might remind you, you are not permitted to wear -- was quite smeared when I found you! I very disappointed and upset with the three of you, and it is my intention that you shall each receive severe punishment!"

Now, Jennifer and Jessica were both crying. Mary Beth was beginning to snuffle a bit, also. So, I figured I had better get on with the task at hand.

"Do I have to tell any of you what your punishment will be?"

"No, sir."

"No. . . sniffle. . . sir."

"No, Dr. Brett."

Reaching out my hand, I took Jennifer by the hand.

"Okay, Jennifer Marie, you'll be first."

"NOOOOOOOO, Daddeeeeeeee! Pleeeeeeease! I'm sooooooo sorry! Pleeeeease!"

"Come along, now. Let's get this over with."

I led Jennifer, now crying quite hard, into my office and closed the door behind us. I escorted her to the spanking chair. I sat down with her pulled up closely to my right thigh. Quickly, I undid her belt as she continued to plead for me not to spank her. Then I unsnapped and unzipped her shorts and tugged them down over her hips and bottom. Being wet as they were, this was a somewhat difficult task made more difficult by her squirming and pleading. Once below her bottom they dropped heavily to the floor. Now she stood clad only in a wet, but drying, T-shirt and a pair of very wet, clinging, blue cotton panties. For just a moment I considered leaving her panties up, realizing that wet as they were, they would offer scant protection from my hand. However, I do believe strongly that to have its full effect both physically, mentally, and emotionally, a spanking should be administered on the bare skin of a child's bottom. So, with one motion, I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slid them down. Jennifer had, by now, stopped pleading, and was somewhat resigned to her fate. Chewing on one knuckle, she waited until I finished preparing her for her spanking, and then without any prompting, bent forward at the waist and lay across my lap. This done, I adjusted her position so that her bottom was just above my right thigh, her toes were off the floor, and her hands were dutifully placed on the legs of the chair.

The preparations were done and I wasted no time in spanking her. The normal spanking in our home is comprised of 100 spanks. I do not spank hard. Nor do I spank quickly. I spank with a deliberate pace and with a specific pattern and objective in mind. Alternating cheeks of Jennifer's bottom, I slapped first the right then the left, working up from where the bottom creases into the thighs to the top of each cheek. I do not smack the thighs and I make very sure that as much as a child wiggles and squirms during a spanking, I never smack the base of the back. All spankings are given on the fullness of the bared bottom. Jennifer's spanking began with about 20 spanks that were somewhat light but quite stinging, especially on a wet bottom such as hers. By the time I had given her 25 spanks, she was kicking her feet up and down, whimpering and crying, and pretty much displaying a great deal of discomfort. By the 50th spank, she was beside herself, wailing and crying, as well as pleading for her spanking to end. Unfortunately, a father determined to punish is not one to be deterred. I continued spanking and her bottom changed rapidly from a pale creamy color, to pink, and then to quite red. By the 90th spank, Jennifer was wiggling desperately from side to side, sobbing in utter contrition, and was crossing and uncrossing her ankles with every spank. I administered the last 10 spanks rapidly, each of which was followed by a loud exclamation from Jennifer. Just as quickly I stood her up and her hands went to her bottom to rub at the stinging and burning. Tears dripped from her chin and nose. Snuffling, she apologized again.

"I'm unh unh unh sorry Daddy. I'm really unh sorry. I won't unh unh ever do it again!"

I hugged my girl, kissed her wet nose, and then made her step out of her wet underpants. I led her to the door and opened it. Two pairs of wide eyes stared expectantly up at me as I took Jenny to wall and told her to face it until I told her she could leave. Mary Beth and Jessica stared at Jennifer's very red bottom and then looked back to me. Obviously, they wanted to know who would be next. I didn't make them wait.

"Jessica, please go into the office and wait for me."

Jessica whimpered, but got up and went in. Turning to Mary Beth, I told her that I would be with her in a few minutes and that she should think about her behavior whilst she was waiting. She nodded, and I turned and went into the office. I closed the door, turned, and got a surprise. Jessica was standing next to the spanking chair. She had already taken her shorts and panties off. She was looking at me over her shoulder and tears were tracking down her freckled cheeks. I thought for a moment that this must be what Sara had looked like at this age. I sat down and pulled her close to my right leg. Jessica was already very contrite.

"I'm really sorry Dr. Brett."

"I understand Jessica, but I am still going to spank you."

"I know. Do you want me to bend over?"

"Yes, I do honey. We might as well get this over with."

She sighed and leaned forward. As I guided her over my lap, I noticed her face was puckering up and she was starting to cry. Brave and resigned, but very scared of the spanking that was coming. I didn't make her wait, either. As with Jennifer, I adjusted her position so that her toes were off the floor. I looked at her rounded little bottom, pale-colored for now, and quickly raised my hand and smacked it down on her left bottom cheek. Jessie gasped and clenched her bottom. A light pink hand print formed. Again and again my hand rose and spanked down on the girl's bottom. Each spank was greeted with another little gasp and a moan. Each spank was followed by a little kick of the leg that descended from the cheek spanked. Each spank increased the pinkness and eventual redness of her bottom. By the 30th spank, Jessie was obviously feeling the effects of the spanking. She had pointed her toes and was kicking her legs stiffly up and down in rhythm to the spanking of my hand. Her gasps and moans were changing to cries and whimpers that, in turn, were very quickly changing to a sobbing wail. As I approached the end of her spanking, Jessie was gyrating wildly on my lap, I suppose hoping to prevent my hand from spanking the same place too many times. By that time her whole bottom was well-spanked and quite red, so I concentrated the last ten spanks on the base of her bottom cheeks right where they creased into her thighs. The effect was one long wail that lasted for the final ten spanks. I ended her spanking and stood her up. Just as with Jennifer, tears streamed down her face, and her hands flew to her bottom to rub at the sting. There was no doubt that Jessica was a well-spanked and very contrite young lady. As with my own daughters, I kissed her nose and gathered her into a hug. Her arms flew around my neck, and Jessica gave me one more surprise.

"I'm unh unh so sorry I was bad, Daddy! unh unh I . . . ."

She pulled away and looked at me with tear-filled eyes.

"I unh mean Dr. unh unh Brett."

I pulled her back into the hug.

"It's alright, Jessie, you can call me Daddy if you want to. I would be very honored. Afterall, a daddy spanks only because he loves you."

"You unh unh love me?"

"Yes I do. Just like your mom does. Otherwise, I would be just wasting my time giving you this spanking."

She hugged me even tighter, and cried into my collar. I held her close, and patted her back.

"But Mom never unh unh spanks me. Doesn't she unh love me?"

"Yes she does, sweetheart. And I think that is going to change when she comes home. I have a feeling that your mom is going to have to learn to spank you when it's necessary."

"Oh. Maybe I don't really want that. Spanking unh unh really hurts. My heinie really burns after you spank me."

"Yes, I'm sure it does. It's supposed to. But I'll bet you never go out on a lake in a canoe without permission again. Will you?"

"No way. I unh unh promise."

"Okay, now Jessie I still have to deal with Mary Beth. I want you to go out and face the wall with Jenny. The three of you will be standing there for a while. Undertand?'

"Yes . . . . . Daddy."

Jessie smiled through her tears, gave me one last hug. As she walked to the door, her plump, very red, little bottom wiggled. She rubbed it as she walked. Opening the door, she stepped out went across the hall to stand next to Jennifer. By contrast the redness of Jennifer's bottom was already beginning to fade. I sighed and went out to get Mary Beth.

Now, some will say that a 14-year-old girl is too old for her daddy to spank. I would disagree -- obviously. My belief is that as long as a child is disobedient, then that child can be spanked when necessary. I had recently asked Mary Beth if she would rather be grounded for punishment, and her answer had been a definite "no." She never expressed any embarrassment at the necessities that accompanied a spanking, so there was no reason to alter my method of punishment.

I went to the door and called Mary Beth in. She stood and, biting her lip, came into my office. As she passed Jenny and Jessie, I saw her glance at the well-spanked bottoms each was sporting, and she did whimper just a bit. I closed the door behind us and she walked over to the spanking chair. I needed to assure myself that Mary Beth understood why she was being spanked.

"Mary Beth, do you understand why you are in trouble."

"Uh, huh. I disobeyed you."

"And you understand how you are going to be punished."

"Uh, huh."

"How, Mary Beth?"

"Daddeeeee, do I have to say it? Can't you just do it?"

"I want to make sure you understand and accept your punishment."

Mary Beth looked at the floor and whispered.

"You're going to spank me."

"And how am I going to spank you?"

"Over your knees."

"How else?"

She squirmed and crossed her ankles.

"With my pants and panties pulled down. Daddy, I'm really, really sorry. I'll never disobey you again. I promise. Do you HAVE to spank me? Pleeeeeease."

Well, maybe she was ready for a different punishment.

"Well, I could ground you for one month."

"Nooooooo. Pleeeeeeease. I don't want to be grounded."

She was whining a pleading like a very desperate little girl. I really needed to get this over with. It had to be one way or the other.

"It's going to be one or the other, Mary Beth. Grounded for a month or spanked. Which is it going to be?"

She held her hands up in front of her chest and she kind of bounced up and down. Her face puckered up and she started to cry. I waited while she thought hard. It was simple, which did she prefer, one month in the house or five minutes over my knee and a very sore bottom. As I waited, she dropped her hands to the snap on her shorts, then she raised them again to her chest. Her face contorted with indecision. Her hands went up and down several times while she jiggled up and down, bit her lip, and whimpered. This decision had to be very tough for her. Finally, she looked at me through teary eyes, she dropped her hands to her waist, and whispered.

"The spanking."

After years of spankings, Mary Beth knew exactly what she had to do. Quickly, she unsnapped and unzipped her shorts. Then she pushed them down. Flowered cotton panties fit tightly over her lower belly and bottom, and after a moment's hesitation, she hooked her fingers into the waistband and pushed these down, too. Resigned, now, to her impending spanking, Mary Beth leaned forward and draped herself over my lap. Although, rather small for her age, I still could not position her so that her toes were off the floor, so I merely adjusted her position so that her bottom was over my right leg. Her head hung down to the left and she braced her hands on the legs of the chair. Sobbing quietly, she waited for me to start spanking her, which I quickly did.

Once again, for the third time in just a half hour, I began spanking the bare bottom of one of my daughters. Mary Beth, being a teenager, was able to take a few more spanks before she really began to react. But after thirty or so spanks, react she did. A couple of gasps, a desperate wiggle, and a long drawn out "UNNNNHOWWWWWWWAAAAAH" that continued in hiccuppy exclamations with each succeeding spank on her very tender, increasingly red, bare bottom. I spanked her as I had for the previous ten years, first slapping one cheek then the other, making sure not to spank in all the same spot more than three succeeding times, moving up and down her bottom. Mary Beth reacted as she had ever since her first spanking so many years ago. She cried, she squirmed, she wiggled from side to side, she drummed her feet against the floor -- although she had only been able to do that in the last year or so---and she pleaded for the spanking to end. But I resolutely administered the full 100 spanks. As I approached the end of her spanking, her cries changed to a repeated, "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry." that paralleled the rhythm of my spanks. But I quickly finished spanking her and allowed her to stand, and as with the first two, her hands quickly went to her sore bottom to try to rub some of the sting away. And as always, I kissed her nose and hugged her, although I had to stand to do that with her.

Finally, I told Mary Beth to go stand at the wall with Jennifer and Jessica, which she did. I noticed that Jennifer's bottom was hardly even pink any longer, and Jessica's was fading to pink from the red it had been. Mary Beth's bright red bottom stood out in stark contrast. I had determined that each girl should spend ten minutes facing the wall, so at that point I allowed Jennifer to go to her room and get dressed. Jessie I allowed to go five minutes later, and Mary Beth five minutes after that.

The unpleasantness of the day was over and I went back into by office and placed the spanking chair back against wall. In our house, that chair sometimes remained against the wall for weeks at a time, and at other times it seemed as if it was being pulled out every few days. Jessica seemed to have truly become a part of the family. Her mom would be home in four days, and hopefully things would continue to improve with her. Jessie would make one more trip to the spanking chair before her mom returned, and then there would be some other interesting events surrounding this young lady who now called me "Daddy."

End of Part 2

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