Subject: New story: Linda's Bad Day, Part 1 (FM/F, noncons)
From: Kent Stoneking <kentls001@worldnet.att.net>
Date: 1 Dec 1997 23:16:49 -0800
This looks like it'll be about a four-part story. I hope to have Part 2 done and posted later this week, and the whole thing done before Christmas.
WARNING: this story contains nonconsenual spanking, some sexual touching , and some bad language. If any or all of this will offend you, please read no further.
Linda Farnham stood in her bathroom, brushing her teeth and hating her life. She hated the uniforms her high school had instituted during this, her senior year. She hated the fact that her parents had gone on vacation for a week, leaving her older sister, Julie, in charge of her. And, most of all, she hated that Julie's boyfriend, Brad, despite parental admonitions to the contrary, had moved in almost as soon as her parents left town.
Behind her, the shower stopped running and Julie stepped out. Surreptitiously, Linda watched as her sister towelled off. She despised Julie, and never made any secret of her contempt. Twenty-two years old, and still living at home! Linda couldn't understand why anyone would put up with their strict, domineering parents any longer than she absolutely had to. All her college applications were to out-of-state institutions. Chelsea Clinton had the right idea; put the whole continent between yourself and your folks.
Julie hung up the towel and started stepping into her panties. "Why bother with those?" Linda snorted. "You'll just have them off again for Brad in a minute."
"Don't be jealous, little girl," Julie replied, patronizingly patting the top of Linda's head.
"Stop calling me that!" Linda snarled, straightening her pink hair ribbon, the one spot of color in her otherwise monochrome uniform of white short-sleeved blouse, short black skirt, white knee socks, and black shoes. She'd always hated Julie's pet nickname for her, but after her 18th birthday last month, it seemed especially galling.
"Mind your temper, little girl. With Mom and Dad away, I'm in charge, so you better show me some respect."
I'll show you something, but it won't be respect, Linda thought, fuming. "I bet Mom and Dad will be glad to hear about you and Brad shacking up while they're gone."
Julie grabbed Linda's shoulders, spinning her around. "You better not tell them, or I'll -- I'll --"
"Or you'll what?" Linda retorted, smiling sweetly.
Abruptly, Julie put her sister into a headlock and bodily wrestled her to the floor. "What do you think you're doing?" Linda cried.
"Showing you what I'll do, you snotty little bitch!" Julie answered, rolling Linda over, face down, on the bath mat. Most times, Linda was quite happy with her petite, 5'1" figure, but not now. Outweighed by several pounds, she stood no chance of escaping -- not that she didn't try.
Julie, ignoring her sister's struggles, climbed onto Linda's back, straddling her, facing rearwards. "This'll teach you!" she said as she flipped up Linda's skirt and yanked her white nylon panties down.
"Stop that! Leave me alone!" Linda demanded, then, "OUCH!" as Julie's palm connected with her right buttock. "Knock it off! Get off me, you fucking whore!"
"I don't think so, little girl," Julie responded, swatting Linda's left cheek. "You've had this coming for quite some time. I think I'll just spank some of that attitude out of you."
As Julie continued smacking her defenseless rump, Linda tried desperately to push herself up; but she couldn't budge her taller, heavier sister. "You can't do this to me!"
Julie laughed, not slowing her pace. "I'm doing it, aren't I?"
As the loud SMACKS! echoed in the small room, Linda felt her frustration and humiliation growing. For all the indignities Julie had visited on her during their years together (and they were many), she had never, ever, dared spank her younger sister before. And, though Julie's hand slaps weren't as hard as the paddlings Linda (and, she suspected though could not prove, Julie) still received from her parents, they did produce a definite sting.
The only way Linda could retain any shred of her shattered dignity was not to cry. She gritted her teeth, fighting back the tears as her bottom burned under the assault, determined not to give Julie the satisfaction.
When Linda's backside glowed a bright, healthy pink, Julie, quite pleased with her handiwork, decided she'd had enough. Climbing to her feet, she said, "That's only a taste of what you'll get if you tell Mom and Dad about Brad. So you better just keep your big mouth shut." She moved to the door, then turned back to her still-prone sister and added, "Don't be late for school, little girl," with a malicious smile.
After Julie left, Linda stood up slowly, rubbing her sore cheeks before pulling her panties back up. She inspected herself in the mirror and wiped away some moisture from the corners of her eyes, then noticed her blouse was soaked and covered with lint from the bath mat. She couldn't go to school like that, no way!
Linda walked quickly to her bedroom to change. As she buttoned a clean, freshly-pressed blouse, she heard her bedroom door swing open behind her. "What do you want now?" she asked, thinking it was Julie come back for another round -- then froze as she turned to the doorway. There stood Brad. "I heard you and Julie in the bathroom," he informed her. Linda's face flushed as she realized Brad knew about her spanking. "I also heard what you called her. You've got quite a mouth on you, little girl, and I think it's time you got a lesson in manners." So saying, he advanced on her.
"Get out of here! Leave me alone!" Linda shouted, but Brad didn't listen. He caught her around the waist and half-dragged, half-carried her to her bed. She stood absolutely no chance against his 6'2", 210-pound frame.
Struggling frantically, Linda cried "Let me go, you bastard! You're hurting me!" "You'll be hurting more in a second," Brad replied, sitting on the bed and pulling her roughly across his lap. He whisked her skirt up and tugged her panties down to mid-thigh.
"NO! DON'T!" Linda screamed, finally seeing Brad's intent. Ignoring her redoubled exertions, he lightly patted her naked posterior, saying "Nice and pink, but I think we can do better than that." Seconds later, a loud CRACK! resounded in the room as pain exploded anew in Linda's left buttock. She howled and twisted her head around. From somewhere (his back pocket?) Brad had produced Julie's hairbrush. As she watched, he raised it high and brought it down firmly on her right cheek.
CRACK! Linda yelped and flung her hand behind her to ward off further swats. Brad seized her wrist and held her arm down to the side, leaving her rump completely unprotected. Blow after blow after blow came crashing down. Between Brad's strength and the hard hairbrush, there could be no pretense of bravery; Linda's tears soon flowed freely.
After countless whacks, Linda felt something different on her bottom: not wood, but Brad's hand, softly massaging her burning, throbbing flesh. "You're all hot up here," he said, then, suddenly, his hand slipped down between her thighs, invading her private area. "Wonder if you're hot down here too?"
To be honest, Linda thought Brad was really quite hunky, and she'd often fantasized about being alone with him and having him touch her there. But not now! Not like this! "Get your hands off me, you fucking pervert!" she shouted, wriggling desperately again.
"Hmph!" Brad hmphed. "Seems you haven't learned to watch your language." His hand retreated, but the respite proved only temporary, as the hairbrush came calling again. The swats seemed much harder than before, sending Linda into deeper and deeper agony.
Eventually, Linda felt another pause in the spanking. Then Brad spoke. "Now, let's see what you've learned. Repeat after me: I've been a very naughty little girl and disrespectful to my sister."
Hadn't she been humiliated enough? "I'm not saying that!"
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Another rapid-fire flurry. "Say it, Linda." Stubbornly, she held her tongue. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! "I can keep this up all day. I'm not tired in the least."
Linda knew Brad played plenty of racquetball -- in fact, at times it seemed like he was majoring in racquetball -- and had no doubts about his stamina. She'd already felt the strength of his arm. To avert further damage to her bottom, she capitulated. "I've ... I've been naughty --"
CRACK! CRACK! "Very naughty."
"I've been very naughty, and disrespectful to my --"
CRACK! CRACK! "Pay attention, Linda. I've been a very naughty little girl, and disrespectful to my sister."
Her pride rebelled again. No way would she say the hated nickname! He could spank her till Doomsday, and she'd never say it! -- or so she thought, until he started pounding away with the hairbrush again.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! "Okay, okay! I've been a very naughty little girl, and disrespectful to my sister!"
"Very good. Now say: I promise to respect and obey my sister and her boyfriend from now on."
"I ... " CRACK! CRACK! "I promise to respect and obey my sister and her boyfriend from now on."
"Excellent! Now: Thank you for giving me this well-deserved and badly needed spanking."
Dead silence. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The last vestige of her self-respect gone, Linda repeated the degrading words.
"Okay." He released her. "You can get up now." She scrambled to her feet, quickly pulling her panties back into place. Brad got off the bed, then waved the hairbrush under her nose. "Just remember, if you ever think about breaking your promise, this could happen again." And he left the room.
Linda stuck her tongue out at his retreating back, then looked at her watch. "Shit!" she muttered. She was already late for school! For a brief moment, she considered not going altogether ... then realized that wasn't an option. She'd cut too many classes already this term, and one more unexcused absence would land her on academic probation. Julie would never give her an excuse. Hurriedly wiping her eyes and blowing her nose, Linda grabbed her backpack and sped out of the house.
Ignoring, as best she could, her aching posterior, Linda covered the ten-block distance to her school in record time. Still, over twenty minutes of her morning English class elapsed before she reached the classroom. Miss Pritchardt, her teacher, a tall woman in her late twenties, confronted her as she entered the room. "Well, Linda. Late again, I see. What's your excuse this time?"
"I --" Linda started, then hesitated. She couldn't very well tell Miss Pritchardt, and the entire class, the real reason she was late. "I ... I overslept. I'm sorry," she finally mumbled.
Miss Pritchardt frowned. "We'll discuss this after class, Linda. Take your seat for now."
Squirming on the hard wooden chair, Linda ignored the discussion of "Beowulf" going on around her, concentrating instead on evil thoughts about Brad and Julie. How dare they both spank her! Even now, she thought, they were probably tangled up in Julie's bed, going at it like rabbits in heat --
The end-of-class bell jolted her back to reality. She gathered up her books and headed out the door, only to be stopped by Miss Pritchardt's voice. "Linda? We need to talk, remember?" Reluctantly, she stood by as her classmates left.
"Close the door, please, Linda," Miss Pritchardt instructed. "This is my preparatory period, so we won't be disturbed."
"But I'll be late for biology!" Linda pleaded, not wanting to get in any further trouble.
"I'll give you an excuse slip. Please, close the door."
Obediently, Linda shut the classroom door and stood before Miss Pritchardt's desk. "Linda," the teacher started, "you've been tardy several times this semester, and I've warned you before. Your excuse is entirely unacceptable. I'm afraid I've no choice but to punish you."
Linda groaned. "Not another detention!"
"That's right, Linda. Not another detention. You've had detention several times in the past, and it obviously hasn't helped. It's time to move to the next level."
"But that would mean --" Linda's eyes widened as she realized Miss Pritchardt's gist.
"Exactly, Linda. Corporal punishment." Along with the traditional uniforms, the school had reinstituted traditional discipline methods.
"No! Not that! You can't!"
"I can and will. If you refuse the punishment, Linda, the alternative is an immediate suspension, which would appear on your permanent record. Would you prefer that?"
The proverbial rock and the hard place, Linda realized. On the one hand, she didn't want to be spanked, especially after what she'd already been through this morning. On the other, her already-shaky academic record couldn't withstand any more black marks; not if she wanted to get into a decent college. "I ... I guess not ..."
"All right, then." Miss Pritchardt moved her desk chair into the center of the room and sat. "Assume the position."
Linda decided to try reason one more time. "Miss Pritchardt, this is ridiculous! I'm too old for this!"
"Exactly, Linda. It is ridiculous. You're also too old to keep coming to class late. But you do, so you've earned this punishment."
"But it isn't my fault --" Linda blurted out before she could stop herself.
"Why not, Linda? Why isn't it your fault?"
"Because ... " Linda resorted to a little-used tactic: honesty. "Because I got in a fight with my sister and her boyfriend this morning, and they both spanked me. That's why I was late."
"Hmmm. Well, your relations with your family are your own concern, but you're still expected to come to class on time. That isn't a sufficient excuse. Now, assume the position."
"But I'm so sore already!" Linda protested.
"That's hardly my problem. You've earned this punishment, and you're going to take it. Assume the position, now."
"But it isn't fair!"
"The matter is settled." The flat tone in Miss Pritchardt's voice, and the icy glare in her steel-gray eyes, told Linda there was no use in arguing further. "Either you get over my knee in the next five seconds, or you're suspended."
Deflated, Linda caved again. "All right." She went to her teacher's right side and draped herself across her lap, balancing on her hands and toes. Miss Pritchardt slowly raised Linda's skirt, tucking it safely out of the way, then reached into the waistband of her panties.
"No! Don't do that!"
"Young lady," Miss Pritchardt chided, "corporal punishment in this institution is always administered on the student's bare bottom. You were provided with the addition to the student manual, weren't you?"
"Er, yes ..." Of course, that didn't mean she'd actually read it.
"Then you've got no cause to complain." And, with that, Miss Pritchardt smoothly and deliberately lowered her pupil's panties to the tops of her thighs.
"Oh, my," the teacher murmured as she beheld Linda's backside, splotched red from its earlier encounters with palm and hairbrush. "They did give you a good going over, didn't they?" Linda felt Miss Pritchardt's hand gently rubbing her tender, still-stinging cheeks. "Yes," she replied sullenly, humiliated at being in this juvenile position yet again.
"Well, I suppose I can give you a break, then." Linda's temporary hopes were dashed when Miss Pritchardt continued, "I was going to use a ruler on you, but instead I'll just use my hand." Linda grimaced, then squealed as the hand in question, so soft only moments before, impacted her rump. Instantly, the smoldering embers from her earlier spankings rekindled.
Miss Pritchardt proved a remarkably efficient spanker, covering Linda's bottom with a crisp series of sharp spanks. In truth, the swats, about as hard as Julie's, ordinarily would have caused only a mild sting. However, Linda's already-sore backside made any further punishment unendurable; only a few spanks reduced her to a kicking, squirming, squalling mess. Unfortunately, Miss Pritchardt went well beyond a few spanks.
Just when Linda felt she'd explode, Miss Pritchardt stopped spanking and started rubbing again. "There, there," the teacher murmured softly, running her palm, now magically soft again, up and down the burning buttocks. Several times, the hand lingered on Linda's upper thighs, as if about to plunge downwards between them; then, quickly, it moved back up onto her behind.
When Linda's sobs subsided, Miss Pritchardt released her grip and assisted her pupil back to her feet. Linda pulled her panties back up again and stood by, wiping her eyes, as the teacher wrote out an excuse slip. "If you're ever late again, you're in for another dose," she lectured, handing Linda the slip, then added, "Don't forget to see Mr. Wyden this afternoon."
Confused by the mention of the principal, Linda asked, "Excuse me? Why do I have to see Mr. Wyden?"
"You didn't read the new discipline policy, did you?" Linda shook her head. "Whenever a teacher administers corporal punishment, the student is automatically referred to the principal's office after school that day. So you've got an appointment with Mr. Wyden. Don't miss it, and don't be late."
Linda bit back her protests and left the room. Miss Pritchardt closed the door behind her, then leaned her head against it, exhaling heavily. That was too close, she told herself, knowing she'd spend the rest of her preparatory period sequestered in the teachers' restroom. Have to be more careful next time.
Lunchtime finally rolled around; Linda sat alone in the cafeteria, trying to stomach the usual Mystery Meat casserole. The pain in her behind had abated somewhat, but her abused feelings remained unassuaged as she endlessly reviewed the day's events. Old enough to vote, and yet she'd been spanked -- on the bare bottom, no less! -- three times. She couldn't remember a day when she'd felt more humiliated; although, to be honest, the massage she'd gotten from Miss Pritchardt felt sort of good, and she wouldn't have minded more ...
She felt a presence hovering over her. Looking up, she recognized with some disgust Denise Arlington, one of her least-favorite people in the entire school. Denise, a natural athlete, seemed to excel effortlessly at everything she tried; she was captain of every school sports team and president of the Honors Society. Denise was full of school spirit; in Linda's opinion, that wasn't the only thing she was full of.
"I need to talk to you," Denise said tersely. Linda reluctantly offered her a seat, but Denise shook her head. "Not here. In the grove. You're done eating, aren't you." Actually, over half of Linda's lunch remained on her plate, but Denise hadn't really asked a question. Rationalizing that she couldn't digest any more cafeteria food anyway, Linda disposed of her tray and followed Denise to the grove.
On one corner of the campus stood a small wooded area, known to students and faculty alike as the grove. At its very center, hidden from view, was a old, fallen log, the perfect height for sitting upon. It was here that Denise led Linda. They both took seats on the log. Linda squirmed, clearly feeling the rough bark through her skirt and panties.
Denise began without any preamble. "I understand Miss Pritchardt spanked you this morning."
"That's none of your business!" Linda retorted hotly, wondering who else knew about her embarrassing experience.
"Since you're a member of the Honors Society, and I'm society president, I'm making it my business," Denise responded. Linda's grades had been just good enough last term to allow her to squeak into the society. Although members were supposed to promote the school by doing good works in the community, so far Linda's only society-related activities consisted of attending a few meetings and ducking out of any real work.
"As a member of the Honors Society, you represent our school before the entire community. Anything you do reflects on the school. Accordingly, your behavior should be beyond reproach at all times..." Linda quickly tuned out Denise's lecture, concentrating instead on the real reason behind her discomfort. Julie, she concluded, it was all Julie's fault! Julie had spanked her first, and undoubtedly goaded Brad into spanking her, causing her to be late for school and get spanked by Miss Pritchardt. How could she make Julie pay?
"... the society president is empowered to punish members who violate society rules ..."
Denise's words penetrated Linda's funk. "WHAT?"
Denise smirked, figuring she'd finally gotten her underling's attention. "I said, under the society charter, the society president is empowered to punish members who violate society rules. And that's exactly what's going to happen now. I'm going to punish you."
"Punish me? Punish me how?"
"Well," Denise replied casually, "how did Miss Pritchardt punish you this morning?"
"You don't mean --"
"That's exactly what I mean." Denise's smirk grew wider.
"I'm not going to let you spank me!" Linda sputtered.
Abruptly, Denise grabbed Linda's chin. "Listen here, you little rodent," she hissed, "let has nothing to do with it. We both know damn well you need the Honors Society more than it needs you. It's either a spanking, or I blackball you out of the society."
Fighting her rage, Linda carefully considered her options. She really didn't want another spanking -- especially not from Denise Arlington, of all people! -- but, regretfully, Denise was right; membership in the Honors Society was the shining jewel in her otherwise-mediocre transcript.
"Well," Denise said testily, "which is it going to be?"
Right then, Linda wanted nothing more than to tell Denise precisely what she could do with her precious Honors Society; but she swallowed her pride and dropped her eyes to the ground.
"That's what I thought." Denise released Linda's chin and shifted her position on the log, smoothing her skirt. "All right. Get over my knee."
"Not here!" Linda objected.
"You can get it here, or I'll drag your ass back to the cafeteria and spank it there. Your choice."
Some choice, Linda thought, as she reluctantly lowered herself onto Denise's waiting lap. For the fourth time that day, she felt her skirt raised up over her hips.
When Denise's hands invaded her panties, though, Linda decided enough was enough. "NO!" she shouted, trying to throw herself off Denise's knees. "Leave my panties alone!"
"Listen, you worm," replied Denise, clamping the struggling Linda in place, "your panties are coming down. And if I hear one more word out of you, I'll spank your bare butt and kick you out of the Society. Now hold still!"
"I don't care!" Linda cried, beyond all reason. "You can't take my panties down!" She reached around behind herself and firmly grasped the waistband of her panties, pulling them back up.
Denise easily slapped Linda's hand aside and yanked her panties down to mid-thigh. "The more noise you make," she said, twisting Linda's right arm behind her back, "the more chance other people will hear and come see what's going on. How big an audience do you want?"
The prospect of witnesses defeated Linda. Helpless in Denise's grip, she resigned herself to yet another spanking. All right, she thought grimly, Denise can spank me. She can even spank my bare bottom. But she's not going to make me cry. I won't cry, I won't, I won't, I won't -- SMACK! "OWWWW!"
Linda wasn't prepared for the force of Denise's swats. Denise spanked much harder than Julie or Miss Pritchardt, almost as hard as Brad (even without the hairbrush). Ordinarily, the spanking would have been very painful for Linda; with her rump already tenderized, it was pure agony. Her resolve crumbled quickly; before long, she was reduced to tearful pleas for mercy.
SMACK! "Denise, please!" SMACK! "Please stop!" SMACK! "I'm sorry!" SMACK! "I'll be good from now on, I promise!" SMACK! "I promise!" SMACK! "Please, no more!" SMACK!
But mercy wasn't on Denise's mind; she continued spanking until Linda's bright red rump convinced her the lesson had been learned. She paid particular attention to the under curves of Linda's cheeks, an area that Julie and Miss Pritchardt (but not Brad) had neglected.
When Denise finally released her grip and said, "All right, get up," Linda found herself unable to stand; instead, she slid off Denise's lap and knelt by the log, rubbing her bottom with both hands, tears pouring from her eyes. Flushed from the exertion, Denise took a few moments to regain her breath, then coldly addressed Linda:
"If you ever do anything that embarrasses the Society again, I'll spank your bare ass in the cafeteria, at lunchtime, in front of the entire student body, and blackball you. Is that understood?"
Linda managed a nod. "Excellent." Denise checked her watch. "Your next class starts in five minutes. Don't you dare be late." With that, Denise left the grove. Linda stayed behind, trying desperately to pull herself together in time to make her afternoon classes and her appointment with Mr. Wyden.
Linda stayed in the grove until the last possible second before steeling herself and heading for her next class. She brushed past the small knot of students gathered nearby with her head down, ignoring their stares and amused comments, focusing entirely on surviving the next few hours.
The afternoon seemed a blur to Linda; her body may have been in her classes, but her mind was elsewhere, dealing with the pain and humiliation from her multiple spankings. She only got through the day by concentrating on the instigator of her problems: Julie. Somehow, she swore, Julie would pay for the trouble she'd caused.
Finally, her last class ended; Linda trudged wearily through the halls to Mr. Wyden's office. She sat, squirming uncomfortably, on a hard wooden bench, until a secretary passed her through.
Mr. Wyden, a short, pudgy man with a huge bald spot atop his head and a fat little mustache resembling a wooly caterpillar perched on his upper lip, made Linda stand before his desk for a few minutes while he reviewed her file. Then he folded his hands on the desk and looked up at her. "So, Miss Farnham," he intoned, "you were spanked earlier today by Miss Pritchardt for being late to class?"
Linda, blushing again, nodded. Leaning back in his chair, the principal continued, "Tell me. Do you think your punishment was fair?"
Was he kidding? "No," she replied curtly.
"Why not?"
"I was only a little late to class --" Linda started.
"It wasn't just for tardiness, Miss Farnham," Mr. Wyden interrupted. "I've reviewed your record, and it's not very good. Multiple tardies, unexcused absences, several detentions, grades marginal at best ... you're hardly a model student. In fact, I think Miss Pritchardt was rather lenient. Some teachers here would have spanked you long ago."
Bristling under his attack, Linda furiously counterattacked. "But it wasn't my fault! I was only late because -- because I got in a fight with my sister and her boyfriend."
"Ah, yes, Miss Pritchardt mentioned that they'd spanked you. You probably deserved it." Linda's rage shot up another notch. "Anyway, that isn't a sufficient excuse."
She fumed silently as Mr. Wyden continued his lecture. "The purpose of a student visiting the principal's office after being disciplined by a teacher is to see if the student's attitude and conduct have improved. From your responses, I see that yours haven't. It looks like you need another dose."
He stood up and started dragging his chair from behind the desk.
Thoroughly appalled, Linda sputtered, "You're not serious!"
He looked up at her. "Oh, yes, I am, Miss Farnham."
"No! I won't let you!"
"You still have the option of suspension. Would you rather go that route?"
"No, but --"
"Then the matter is settled." He placed his chair in the center of the room and sat. "Bend down over my knee, young lady."
In her blind rage, Linda struck out again. "What about Denise Arlington?"
"What about Denise Arlington?" Mr. Wyden replied.
"She spanked me at lunchtime today. That isn't hardly fair --"
"Really?" He smiled. "Denise spanked you too? I hadn't heard that. Why?"
Realizing, belatedly, that she'd spilled the beans, Linda stammered, "She -- she said I was an embarrassment to the Honors Society -- and she was empowered to punish me ..."
"Right on both counts," Mr. Wyden said dryly. "But that doesn't excuse you from the spanking you're about to get."
"But one student shouldn't be allowed to spank another --"
The principal cut her off again. "Young lady, if you have a complaint about the Honors Society, I suggest you take it up with their faculty advisor."
* * *
The ringing alarm clock jolted Linda awake. Sleepily, she stared at the time in disbelief: 6:30! Why in the world would she want to wake up that early on a Sunday? Then she remembered: today she'd begin to extract her revenge on Julie.
Linda sat up gingerly, wincing as her bottom came in contact with the mattress. Although three days had passed since her multiple spankings, there was still some residual soreness, and the bruises left by the paddle hadn't yet faded.
Clad only in a short nightshirt, Linda went to her bedroom window and looked out expectantly. Although Julie (the slug) would still be in bed for several hours (as would Linda on most weekends), fitness fanatic Brad arose early each morning to go running. Linda watched the street, awaiting Brad's return and the commencement of her plan.
Thinking back to her second spanking of that awful day, when Brad used Julie's hairbrush on her, Linda recalled how he'd caressed her buttocks and put his hand between her thighs. That formed the genesis of her plan: to steal Brad away from Julie. True, about the only time Brad ever paid any attention to her was when he'd spanked and paddled her, but Linda was sure she could change that.
Linda's smile grew as she contemplated Julie's likely reaction. Stealing her older sister's boyfriend was surely the best revenge! And then she could talk to Brad about how Julie needed a spanking ...
Suddenly, Linda spotted Brad's taut figure heading down the sidewalk. She waited until he reached the house, then silently crept downstairs. Brad sat in the center of the living room sofa, fiddling with his Walkman. Linda approached him hesitantly. "Brad?" she asked. "Can I talk to you?"
"Sure," he grunted, not looking up.
She sat down beside him, on his right-hand side. "I just thought," she started slowly, suddenly tongue-tied, "that ... since you're spending so much time over here ... maybe ... we ought to ... get to know each other ... a little better."
"Oh?" His head came up, his expression quizzical. "Why?"
"Well ... you being Julie's boyfriend and all ..."
He shook his head. "After the other day, I wouldn't think you'd want to get too close to me."
"Oh, that!" Her confidence grew. "I don't mind that. Everybody needs a spanking every now and then."
"Everybody? Even Julie?"
"Especially Julie." Might as well get her first dig in.
"Even me?"
"Well ..." She stuck a finger in the corner of her mouth. "I dunno. Do you?"
He shrugged his shoulders. She put her feet up in his lap, spreading her legs wide enough to show she wasn't wearing anything under her nightshirt. "You know, Brad, I think we could become much better friends."
"Oh, really?" he responded, glancing back and forth between her face and her loins.
"Yes," she purred. "I can do so many things for you."
"Like what?"
"Well ... do you ever get any ... stiffness ... after you work out?"
"Sometimes." A half-smile played on his lips.
She leaned forward and put a hand on his leg. "I can help you work all that stiffness out," she said in her most seductive voice, running her palm along the inside of his thigh. "Get rid of all that tension, get you nice and relaxed again."
He sat up a little straighter. "Linda, just what are you getting at?"
So he wanted her to be explicit, did he? She could do that. "I might start by putting that big strong cock of yours in my mouth and sucking on it for a while --"
Suddenly Brad seized her wrists and pulled her across his lap. "I thought as much!" he cried. "What a dirty little girl you are, to be making filthy suggestions like that!"
"Let me go!" she demanded, fighting against his iron grip.
"Oh, no," Brad replied, maneuvering her into place. "Obviously those lessons you got the other day didn't do you a bit of good, and you need more."
Now Linda regretted her choice of nightwear. Her scant nightshirt rode up drastically, leaving her naked from the navel down. Not that Brad hadn't already seen her that way, but still!
Linda's modesty vanished completely as Brad's hand started descending on her buttocks. SMACK! Even without a hairbrush or paddle, he administered one of the hardest spankings Linda had ever received. The slight burning in her rump soon blossomed into an all-out conflagration.
To make matters worse, Brad decided to lecture Linda while he spanked her. "You're a naughty, naughty, naughty, naughty, naughty little girl," he said, punctuating each "naughty" with a sharp swat. "Making filthy, dirty, nasty proposals! Such a naughty," SMACK! "naughty," SMACK! "naughty," SMACK! "naughty," SMACK! "naughty little girl you are!" SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Linda tried angrily demanding her release, then tearfully pleading for it; Brad ignored all her entreaties. Her frantic squirming and kicking did no good, either. He simply clamped her in place and continued the "lesson."
When Brad finally did let her go, Linda quickly rolled off his lap and ran to her room. She collapsed on her bed momentarily, sobbing loudly; her plans lay in ruins, and her bottom was all sore again! Then she realized that Julie might have woken up. Her big sister would undoubtedly want to get her licks in, too. Linda hurriedly pulled on some clothes and fled the house.
Night had fallen before Linda, hoping the coast was clear, returned home. Seeing no sign of Brad or Julie downstairs, she went to Julie's room and listened at the door. The sounds from within told her she was most likely the last thing on their minds. She undressed and got in bed, considering and discarding several alternative ideas for revenge before falling into a fitful, restless sleep.
Linda's parents returned home the next day. Coming back from school, she felt a minor sense of elation as she saw their car in the driveway and no sign of Brad's. At least she wouldn't have to put up with him for a while, she thought.
Her elation quickly dissipated as she entered the house. In the living room, she found both parents sitting on the sofa, arms crossed and faces dour. Julie was in an easy chair to one side, her expression that of a feline who'd recently feasted on a small yellow bird. On an end table sat Brad's Walkman.
Without so much as a greeting hug or kiss, Mr. Farnham started in. "Young lady," he said sternly, "Would you mind explaining this to us?" And he started the Walkman. Linda's stomach did flip-flops as she listened to the recorded voices.
LINDA: You know, Brad, I think we could become much better friends.
BRAD: Oh, really?
LINDA: Yes. I can do so many things for you.
BRAD: Like what?
LINDA: Well ... do you ever get any ... stiffness ... after you work out?
BRAD: Sometimes.
LINDA: I can help you work all that stiffness out ... get rid of all that tension, get you nice and relaxed again.
BRAD: Linda, just what are you getting at?
LINDA: I might start by putting that big strong cock of yours in my mouth and sucking on it for a while --
The recording abruptly cut off, but Linda had heard enough. So, from the veins throbbing in his forehead, had her father. "Well?" he demanded angrily. Linda couldn't find her tongue. She stood stock-still, knowing she could make no acceptable excuse.
Mrs. Farnham got into the act. "Julie told us about how you've been mooning after Brad, and how you came onto him when he visited to help her study."
Incredulous, Linda sputtered, "But that's not how it happened --"
Her father interrupted. "Just why should we believe anything you say, young lady?"
Her mind still reeling, Linda lapsed into silence as she stared at Julie's triumphant smirk. Mr. Farnham continued, "We didn't raise you to be such a filthy little slut," but Linda tuned his lecture out. Julie had beaten her again!
Suddenly, Linda realized her father was holding the ping pong paddle. "Get over my knee!" he ordered her.
"No, Daddy, please!" she pleaded.
"Right now, young lady! You're in for the spanking of your life!"
Trapped, Linda went to his right side and bent herself over. Mr. Farnham flipped her skirt up and roughly yanked her panties down to her knees. Linda cringed as she sensed the paddle raised high.
Suddenly, the Walkman, dormant all this time, came to life again.
JULIE: You got her, huh? That's great!
BRAD: Yeah, she never knew I was recording her.
Julie's smirk vanished. She desperately lunged for the Walkman, but her father beat her to it. "Not so fast. I'd like to hear this."
JULIE: They'll blister her butt good for this.
BRAD: Wish I could be around to see it.
JULIE: Don't worry, I'll tell you all about it.
<Sound of bedsprings squeaking>
BRAD: I'm glad we moved into your parent's room. Their bed is so much more comfortable than yours.
JULIE: I hope Linda gets home soon. I want to paddle her again, like the other day. That was so much fun!
BRAD: Yeah. And, afterwards, maybe we could get a little three-way action going. I've never done sisters before!
JULIE: You horny bastard!
<Sound of a slap>
BRAD: Watch it! I'll get that paddle and use it on you.
JULIE: You wouldn't dare!
BRAD: No, but I would use my hand, like this!
<More bedsprings, then a loud SMACK!>
JULIE: OW! Cut it out!
BRAD: Not a chance! You've got this coming!
<More SMACKS!, punctuated by Julie's squeals, which slowly become passionate moans. After about a dozen swats:>
JULIE: Oh, Brad! I can't wait any more! Fuck me now!
<More bedspring squeaks, which settle into a steady rhythm, as Julie's moans become louder and louder>
Mr. Farnham switched off the Walkman. Linda felt him take a deep breath, then he patted her rump lightly. "Get up," he instructed.
Climbing to her feet, Linda reached for her panties. "Not so fast. You've still got a paddling coming, for acting like a little whore," he informed her, then looked at his wife. "Dear, would you mind attending to Linda? I want my arm fresh for Julie."
"With pleasure," Mrs. Farnham responded, beckoning to Linda.
"Daddy --" Julie interjected.
"You be quiet. I've heard enough out of you for one day. Just sit still. It'll be your turn soon enough."
As she laid across her mother's lap, Linda felt a brief moment of glee at her father's words. Julie wasn't going to get off this time after all!
CRACK! Linda's glee disappeared. Mrs. Farnham, an expert spanker with many years' practice on both daughters, applied the paddle briskly and efficiently. The residual soreness from yesterday's session with Brad burst forth anew. In no time at all, Linda was reduced to a kicking, squalling little girl, begging Mommy for mercy. Not that Mommy was listening.
When Linda's mother laid the paddle aside and released her grip, Linda slid to her knees, rubbing her abused bottom with both hands. Julie had proved prophetic; her butt felt blistered indeed. She knew she'd have a fresh crop of bruises to go with the ones from last week.
"Very well done, my dear," Mr. Farnham complimented his wife, then turned his attention back to Julie. "You stay put. I'll be right back." He left the room. The Farnham women sat and knelt in silence, the only sound Linda's sniffling.
Within moments, the man of the house returned, bearing a leather strap, three feet long and four inches wide, in his hand. Both Linda and Julie gasped at the sight. Linda had only gotten the strap once before, for a shoplifting incident when she was 14. She still vividly recalled the agony she'd felt.
"Daddy, no!" Julie rebelled. "I'll take the paddle, but not that thing!"
"Listen here, young lady!" Mr. Farnham responded. "Rutting around with your boyfriend under my roof, in my bed, earns you the strap!"
"Daddy, I'm twenty-two years old! I'm an adult!"
"As long as you're living in my house, you'll obey my rules, and take your punishment when you don't." Julie started protesting again, but he cut her off. "Either you take the strap, or move out."
"Well ... at least make her go away," Julie said, pointing at Linda.
"Oh, no," her father replied. "Linda's going to stay. She should see what'll happen to her if she ever tries anything like this under my roof."
Reluctantly, Julie quieted down. Mr. Farnham looked at his wife and younger daughter. "If you ladies would kindly move aside," he requested. Linda and Mrs. Farnham stepped away as he led Julie around behind the couch. "Drop your jeans and bend over," he instructed her.
"Daddy, please!"
"DROP 'EM!" No mercy.
Julie slowly undid her jeans and slid them down to just below her knees, then draped herself across the back of the couch. Mr. Farnham tucked the strap under his arm, put one hand on each of Julie's hips, and lowered her floral-print bikini panties to jeans level. He figured his daughters would be more humiliated if he did the actual bottom baring himself, so he always took their panties down prior to a spanking.
Julie's bare rump jutted upwards, the highest part of her body, an inviting target. Despite her lingering tears and pain, Linda smiled inwardly. Watching Julie get a healthy dose of the strap wouldn't make up for everything her older sister had done to her, but it would be a good start.
Mr. Farnham wrapped the strap around his right hand twice, leaving a two-foot length dangling free. Without further preamble, he rared back and brought it down across Julie's upturned buttocks. WHAP! Julie howled, kicking convulsively as a red stripe appeared where the strap landed.
After about a five second pause, Mr. Farnham delivered another blow, slightly above the first. WHAP! Julie screamed again and put both hands over her fanny. "Move your hands," her father commanded.
"Please, Daddy, no more! I'm sorry! Please stop!" Julie begged.
"I said, move your hands!" Julie ignored him, continuing her importunements. He nodded to his wife. She stepped over and grabbed Julie's wrists, then knelt down, pulling her daughter's arms out of the way. His aim unimpeded, Mr. Farnham resumed the strapping. WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
Julie's arms may have been restrained, but there was no holding her tongue. WHAP! "AAUUGH!" WHAP! "Daddeee!" WHAP! "Daddy, pleeeeeease!" WHAP! "I'm sorrrreeeee!" WHAP! "I'll never do it again, I promise!" WHAP! "I promise!" WHAP!
Getting no solace from her father, Julie altered her target. "Mom, please!" WHAP! "Make him stop!" WHAP! "Please, that's enough!" WHAP! "I'll be good!" WHAP! "Please, Mommy, pleeeeeease!" WHAP!
But there was no respite to be had. Both parents agreed that their eldest daughter deserved a thorough punishment, and that's just what she got. When Mr. Farnham finally put the strap down, Linda felt it was more because his arm was tired than because he felt Julie'd had enough.
After her arms were released, Julie laid in place atop the couch, wailing continually, her bottom, from hips to thighs, a solid mass of welts and bruises. Linda, much to her surprise, found most of her anger and resentment towards her sister gone, replaced by some small pangs of sympathy -- even as she rubbed her own still-flaming behind.
When Julie, several minutes later, finally pushed herself to her feet, Mr. Farnham addressed his offspring: "Now, both of you go to your rooms and stay there the rest of the day. We'll have a family meeting tomorrow and talk about just what went on here while your mother and I were gone." Julie pulled her jeans and panties up just enough to free her legs and left the room. Linda, glad to be spared any further wrath today but fearful of what tomorrow's discussion might bring, followed closely behind.
Later that evening, as Linda lay on her bed in her nightshirt, trying unsuccessfully to rub the lingering sting from her backside, a soft knock sounded on her door. She got up and opened the door cautiously; there stood Julie, in her robe. "What do you want?" Linda hissed. She may not be mad at her sister any more, but that didn't make Julie her favorite person.
"I just want to talk. Can I come in?" Julie replied softly.
"Okay, but don't try anything, or I'll scream," Linda answered cautiously.
"Don't worry," said Julie, rubbing her fanny through her robe, "I've had quite enough for one day." Both knew their parents wouldn't hesitate to lay on with the paddle and/or strap again if they found Julie out of her room.
"Does your butt still hurt?" Julie asked after Linda had shut her bedroom door.
"Yeah, some. How about yours?"
"Feels like it's on fire. I brought some lotion." She produced a small bottle. "Lie down, I'll put some on you."
Slowly, still wary, Linda laid face-down on her bed. She tensed up as she felt her nightshirt raised, but Julie (for once) kept her word, liberally spreading the soothing lotion on Linda's crimson cheeks and gently rubbing it in.
As she massaged her sister's rump, Julie began what was obviously a rehearsed speech. "Linda, I'm really sorry. I forgot how much a real spanking hurts. I know Brad and I put you through Hell this past week, and I hope you can forgive me."
"Well ... maybe." Linda still wasn't in much of a forgiving mood.
"Feeling better now?"
"Much." Her bottom still stung, but the lotion quieted down the burning.
"Here. You do me now." Julie handed Linda the bottle and took her place on the bed. Linda gasped again as she raised Julie's robe and nightgown, revealing the mass of welts and bruises left by the strap. As gingerly as she could, she spread some lotion across her sister's buttocks and rubbed it in. Julie winced at first, then moaned softly as the lotion took effect.
While she worked, Linda asked a question that had been bothering her for a while. "Julie ... does Brad really spank you?"
Julie looked over her shoulder, a wicked grin on her face. "You heard the tape. What do you think?"
"And you let him?"
"I sure do."
"Doesn't it hurt?"
"Yes, but ... it's not the same as when Mom or Dad spanks me. It's really hard to explain. It's, just, different. And he always makes me feel so much better afterwards."
"You mean the sex."
"Sometimes it's sex. Sometimes we just cuddle. And, sometimes, he rubs lotion on, like you're doing now."
This made sense to Linda. She remembered how her post-spanking massage from Miss Pritchardt felt, and how she'd felt a few minutes ago, when Julie was working on her. Still, though, a spanking that felt good ... "I guess I just don't understand."
"That's because you've never had anything but a punishment spanking." Julie thought for a few seconds, then reached a decision. "Tell you what. Mom and Dad are going out of town again in a few weeks. We'll get together with Brad again, and he can spank you like he spanks me."
"Wow." Linda's bottom began tingling anew, perhaps with anticipation. "And, afterwards ... maybe the three-way?"
"We'll see about that."
"That'd be great -- so long as Mom and Dad don't find out."
"That's why we have to stick together, little sister. What they don't know won't hurt us." Julie giggled at her own wit.
After a moment's thought, Linda realized Julie had never called her "little sister" before. It sounded ... well, it sounded much better than the derogatory "little girl" appellation she'd been stuck with.
The two laid on Linda's bed, talking quietly, well into the night. Linda began seeing her sister in a whole new light. Maybe, she thought, living here with Julie, with Brad nearby, wasn't such a bad deal after all.