A PAINFUL DAY

BY NAP

Note: This story is a fantasy for adults only. The author utterly
condemns any form of actual abuse - physical, sexual,
psychological and emotional - to any person of any age.

Henry Montague arrived home a little late. He had been to a
business meeting that had adjourned to the pub and several pints
of bitter and a couple of whiskies later Henry had finally torn
himself away and caught his train home. The short walk from the
station to his large detached house in Laburnum Avenue refreshed
him and he was in a cheerful mood when he arrived home. However,
the house was quiet, and when he went into the kitchen he found a
note:

Henry, Dinner is in the oven. I'm in bed with a headache. Melissa
is in the corner in your study. Mary

Henry smiled wearily. His wife's headaches were a constant pain -
for him, that is! Why did she insist on suffering so badly from
'nerves'? He turned his attention to the plate in the oven. Mary
was not a good cook at the best of times and this dried up
concoction looked even less appetising than usual. He
thoughtfully put the plate down for the dog who sniffed it
contemptuously and walked off. Henry scraped the plate into the
bin. That left Melissa.

Henry walked purposefully towards his study. His euphoric mood
went with him. He opened the door and walked in. There in the
corner opposite him facing the wall was his eleven-year-old
stepdaughter, Melissa. As usual, she was dressed very prettily.
One of Mary's fads was that her only child should look like an
outdated chocolate box. Melissa's fair hair was arranged in
ringlets with ribbons and bows, which were at present flattened
by Melissa's hands on the top of her head. She had on a white top
with short puff sleeves and a fancy collar all trimmed with lace.
Over this, she wore a very short cotton pinafore dress of a
pattern of tiny multi-coloured flowers and again decorated with
lace. After a wondrously long expanse of tapering bare thigh,
Melissa wore knee-high white socks and pink pumps.

As always, Henry Montague's heart bounded at the sight of his
stepdaughter, but he controlled his emotion and asked briskly,
"Well, my girl, what is all this about?"

Melissa turned to face him. "Well, Daddy," she began earnestly,
"I made myself a drum kit out of a couple of saucepan lids and an
old plastic bin and-"

Melissa's account was long and involved, but Henry Montague did
not bother to listen, instead he marvelled at is stepdaughter's
beauty. How could anyone have eyes that large, or that blue?
Eyelashes so long and lightly curled should only come from a
fairy tale. The angle of the subtly up-tilted nose could have
been sculpted by Michelangelo. Those lips must surely have been
kissed by angels. The dimples in cheek and chin could only have
been indented by touch of cherubim.

"-so Mummy sent me in here to wait for you and went to bed with a
headache," Melissa concluded. She looked at him hopefully. She
had worked out her excuses beforehand and felt they were
thoroughly convincing.

"Hm," frowned Henry Montague, who had hardly heard a word. "You
have been a very naughty little girl and it will be my painful
duty to give you a sound spanking."

"Yes, Daddy," Melissa said demurely. Despite her earlier
short-lived optimism, she was not that surprised that her plea
for clemency had been turned down - it always was. She was going
to be in for a very painful and deeply embarrassing time. She
loved and respected her stepfather, and did not doubt his
authority to spank her. She just wished he would not do it quite
so hard, quite so often, for quite so long, or in quite such a
humiliating manner.

"Turn around and face the wall until I am ready for you," Henry
instructed sternly. As his stepdaughter obeyed, Henry Montague
went over to his desk. He opened one of the drawers. Inside were
a thick, eighteen-inch ruler, a plimsoll, and a table tennis bat.
He considered these objects for a few moments, then smiled and
put all three on top of his desk. He closed that drawer and
opened another. From this he took several buckled straps of
various widths and lengths and some sticky parcel tape.

His preparations completed, Henry Montague returned to Melissa in
the corner and came up behind her. "Raise your arms," he
instructed curtly. Melissa took her hands from her head and put
them up in the manner of an outlaw surrendering in a Western.
Henry unbuttoned the back of Melissa's pinafore dress, took hold
of the hem and lifted it off over her shoulders, head and hands.
He tossed it onto a nearby chair. He looked again at his
stepdaughter. She was wearing pale blue panties with - as
expected - a lacy frill around the legs. The knickers were of the
decent juvenile type. Mary did not believe in any tweenage
nonsense about young adult fashions for her daughter and kept her
dressed very definitely as a child, which suited Henry Montague
perfectly. Melissa's plumply prominent bottom stretched the silky
material like a second skin, outlining her cheeks and central
crease.

After taking his time examining his stepdaughter's charming bum,
Henry Montague put his hands on her shoulders and turned her
around. Melissa's lovely features held an expression of such
doleful resignation that Henry almost laughed aloud, but he
managed to keep a straight face of stern duty. His eyes travelled
over her thin cotton top. The nipples of her small breasts were
obvious as they pressed against the fine material. His eyes
continued downwards over a small patch of tummy to the wrinkled
front of her panties against which her bulging slit was clearly
defined.

Melissa felt uncomfortable as her stepfather's gaze concentrated
on the front of her knickers, but she knew she would be feeling a
lot more embarrassed before too long. She also knew that
embarrassment would in any case soon be the least of her worries.

Henry Montague took hold of Melissa's top and slowly pulled it
off over her head. Among the many points of dispute between
mother and daughter, the matter of her bra - or rather, lack of
her bra - was the one that offended Melissa most. Almost all the
girls in her class had one - even Susan Compton who hardly had
any tits at all, and Mary Spence had had one since her tenth
birthday! But Melissa did not have a bra; it was absolutely
forbidden - a decision with which Henry heartily concurred as his
stepdaughter's small bare breasts were revealed.

Henry Montague stared hard at Melissa's breasts. Were they any
bigger than when he had last seen them nearly three weeks ago? He
could not discern any growth he was pleased to say. He thought
his stepdaughter's tits were now a perfect size - just large
enough to give her body some shape, but not big enough to
dominate it. For her part, Melissa wondered why Daddy was so
interested in her titties. He mother's must be much bigger and
therefore more exciting to a man, surely?

Henry bent down and removed Melissa's pink pumps and then as she
stood first on one leg, and then the other, he took off her
socks. Henry had many unconventional interests and curious
desires, but he was not a foot fetishist; nevertheless, he
thought Melissa's feet were the most nearly perfect he had ever
set eyes on.

However, feet can only hold so much interest when there are
knickers to be taken down, and so Henry straightened up and his
hands reached for the elasticated waistband of Melissa's
underwear. Melissa twitched as his hands tickled her tummy and
then gasped nervously as her panties were inexorably drawn over
her hips, over her thighs, over her knees, over her calves and
finally - as she helpfully stepped this way and that - over her
ankles and feet. Henry tossed them onto the pile of her other
clothes. And looked at his stepdaughter. Apart from the ribbons
in her hair, Melissa was as naked as the day she was born.

Despite her embarrassment, Melissa did not attempt to cover
herself with her hands. She had tried it a couple of times before
and had had her knuckles sharply rapped with the ruler and so now
she reluctantly accepted that she was open to view by her
stepfather. He made the most of it. He turned her this way and
that, frankly looking at her bottom and her most personal part
while she blushed very prettily.

Henry Montague enjoyed his stepdaughter's embarrassment. The soft
pink glow that bathed her cheeks simply added to her beauty. But
not even Melissa's flawless features could quite distract him
from her other attractions. He gazed happily at the bulging slit
between her thighs. He was pleased to see that there was no sign
yet of even the merest wisp of pubic hair; he had no wish for her
childish charm to be covered. He knew in his heart that Melissa's
vulva could be little different from that of any other
eleven-year-old, but to him it had a special appeal. Likewise,
her bottom, which must surely have been similar to that of any
other healthily developed girl, but to him was uniquely moulded
by the hands of God.

Henry Montague pulled his eyes away from his stepdaughter's
delicious form and decided to delay no further in starting on her
physical punishment. "Come here," he said firmly and, gripping
her right arm, guided her across the room. Melissa obeyed
immediately. Her stepfather was many times stronger than she, and
being naked was a definite disadvantage in a tussle. As she was
marched across the room Melissa looked towards the desk and
noticed the three implements lying there. Her beautiful blue eyes
opened even wider. The ruler, the slipper and the ping-pong
paddle - Surely Daddy could not be intending to beat her with all
three!

Henry Montague took his stepdaughter across to a table and stood
Melissa front of it. He returned to his desk and picked up the
parcel tape. He knelt down by Melissa's right foot and taking
hold of her ankle, firmly pulled it towards the table leg.
Melissa did not resist - what was the point? Henry found the edge
of the sticky tape and pulled off a long strip. He wound the tape
several times around Melissa's ankle and the table leg. He moved
across to her left leg, which she compliantly opened her thighs
and stretched her foot over to the other table leg. This ankle
too Henry bound to the table with brown parcel tape.

"Bend over," he ordered. Melissa obeyed, but Henry was not
satisfied with her position. He walked over to the bookcase and
took down Volume 1 (Aardvark to Beriberi) of his set of
encyclopaedia and took it over to the table. He pushed it under
Melissa's tummy, but was still not content and returned for
Volume 2 (Beryl to Colostomy) and placed it on top of the other.
Even now not completely happy with Melissa's position, Henry put
his hand between her legs so that his palm rested against her
groin and firmly lifted her forward an inch or two so that her
bottom was presented at an even more pleasing angle. Finally
content, he collected a very long strap from the desk, passed it
under the table and buckled it loosely over Melissa's back.

Henry now went the other end of the table where he peeled off
another length or sticky tape and stuck it in readiness to the
back of his fingers. He took hold of his stepdaughter's fine
right hand and pulled it determinedly, stretching her arm until
the wrist overlapped the table enough to attach it to the table
leg with the tape. He then did the same with her left wrist.

Melissa was now very uncomfortable indeed, stretched as she was
over the piled books, but worse was to come. Her stepfather first
tightened the strap around her middle pulling her upper body down
towards the flat surface of the table; and then he took two
shorter straps, passed each of them around her knees and the
table legs, and buckled them tight, opening her legs even wider.

Henry Montague admired his handiwork. Melissa was bent over the
table. At one end, her head rested on the board with her arms
stretched out in front. In the middle, her spine was concave as
the strap pulled her down. In contrast, her hips and buttocks
were lifted by the to volumes beneath her stomach, while behind
her, her legs were stretched indecently wide exposing her girlish
quim.

Melissa knew she must look ridiculous with her bum suck up in the
air showing off all she'd got. But something more important than
the absurdity of her position was occupying her mind. Most of all
it was the prospect of a spanking soon to be delivered, but
another niggling problem was making itself felt as Volume 2
(Beryl to Colostomy) pressed against her bladder. She wished now
she had thought to ask Daddy to let her go to the toilet before
he started, but it had not occurred to her then and it was too
late now. She had waited in the corner for a long time for him to
come home as he was late and that, combined with fear and the
pressure of Volume 2, were having their effect. She hoped she
could last out. The idea of what might happen if she lost control
and pissed all over Daddy's encyclopaedia did not bear thinking
about! But now Daddy was speaking:

"-little pest. So I am going to give you the soundest spanking of
your life - so far!"

Wow! Even worse than when she broke Mummy's bone china eggcup?
She had been sore for a week after that one! She wished now she
had stopped her percussion when Mummy had told her to.

The urge to pee became even more urgent.

Henry Montague rested his right palm on Melissa's left bottom
cheek. He felt the taut skin, and the soft fat and resilient
muscle beneath. He pulled the buttock to one side to reveal the
puckered ring of her bum hole. He smiled happily top himself. He
knew he was a very lucky man. But it was about time he began. He
raised his hand and slapped hard. His red handprint appeared on
Melissa's bottom.

"Ow," Melissa complained. She believed in letting Daddy know he
had hurt her right from the start. Not that it had ever made any
difference that she could tell. She knew she would be howling her
head off before he had finished with her.

Henry smacked Melissa's bottom again, and kept on smacking. He
spanked her hard with a steady rhythm. The first handprint
disappeared beneath a dozen others so that they merged into a
glowing whole separated into two halves by the central crease of
her bottom.

Henry enjoyed hand-spanking his young stepdaughter, delighting in
the sensation of skin on skin. But he was not a man to put up
with much discomfort and his hand was becoming sore. He left
Melissa and turned to his desk. He looked at the three implements
he had set out on its surface. Which to choose? He picked up the
plimsoll. It was a large size with a thick rubber sole. He hefted
the slipper by the heel in his hand. Yes, this would do to begin
with.

Henry swung the slipper hard and the sole landed with an
explosive 'crack' across Melissa's cheeks. She yelled loudly.
Henry nodded with satisfaction. He had known her earlier yelps
and squeals were put on and intended only to make his heart more
tender. No such luck! The only thing that was going to be tender
here was Melissa's bottom! He whacked her again with equally
satisfactory result. He kept on whacking her.

Melissa struggled as much as she could, which, bound as she was,
was not much. In fact, the only effect of her exertion was that
her stepfather enjoyed seeing her jerking hips squirming bottom
and twitching thighs.

Henry Montague stopped slippering his stepdaughter and went back
to his desk. Melissa heard him fiddling with the implements there
and nervously tried to twist her head around to see what he was
up to. But much as she craned her neck, she couldn't see anything
more than a large part of her shoulder and a small part of the
room. These spanking sessions with Daddy usually went on for some
time and if this was to be the worst ever- But Daddy was coming
back!

Henry Montague had chosen the ruler. He went back behind Melissa
and lined it up with the child's right thigh, just above where
the knee was strapped to the table leg. He drew back the ruler
and with plenty of wristy action swatted it down across the back
of Melissa's leg.

"Ouch!" Melissa yelled. She hated having her legs hit even more
than her bottom. Not only did it hurt more, but also the marks
showed. Last time after Daddy had hit her repeatedly there she
had gone to school the next day with small bruises showing on her
legs under the very short skirt Mummy always made her wear. Her
teacher had pointed them out to the other kids as what naughty
girls got, and with mock sympathy asked her if she wanted a
cushion to sit on, while all the rest of her class sniggered and
giggled at her expense.

Henry aimed and struck Melissa on the same leg just above the
first red mark. She yelled again. And kept on yelling as the
ruler made its way up her leg to the fold of skin where thigh met
buttock. Then he did the same to the other leg. Henry looked
happily at the bars of colour marching up both of the little
girl's long tapering thighs - most satisfactory! He swatted
Melissa's bottom with the ruler a couple of times just for fun
and went back to the desk and put down the ruler.

Melissa was very unhappy. Her legs and bottom stung like she had
sat on a bonfire, and pain, fear and her reflexive wriggling were
making her want to pee ever more desperately. But it seemed her
stepfather was in no hurry to continue her punishment. He
wandered over to the bookshelves and took out a book, glanced at
its pages and then returned it to the shelf. He did this several
more times before finding a collection of short stories that
caught his interest. He went and sat down in an armchair and
began to read. Melissa wondered whether he had finished spanking
her and speculated whether she dared to tell him she needed to
pee, but in her heart she knew he had not finished with her. Her
daddy had promised her the worst spanking she had ever had, and
she had not had that - not yet.

After about twenty minutes, Henry Montague put down his book and
walked back across the room to where his stepdaughter was bent
across the table. He put out his hand and her bottom
instinctively flinched just before he touched it. It was hot -
very hot. He rubbed his hand over the surface of the burgundy
skin. Melissa gasped and whimpered as his rough hand chafed her
sore bottom. He ran his hand down her right thigh and up her
left, feeling the heat there as well. He returned to her bottom.
He pinched her left cheek and she squealed with pain. He put a
hand on each plump buttock and rotated them while Melissa
squirmed as much as she could and sobbed and snivelled. He pulled
the cheeks apart, examining again he tight wrinkled ring of her
arsehole.

He let go of her, raised his right hand and slapped her hard.

"Ow!" Melissa yelled, and burst into tears.

Henry gave his stepdaughter's bottom another good hand spanking
and then turned his attention to the backs of her legs. Melissa
yelled like a banshee throughout. Henry thought it was just as
well the study had a stout oak door as his wife was in bed with a
sick headache and although the bedroom was on the other side of
the house, the din Melissa was making must travel. It was
strange, he thought as he spanked the screaming child, that Mary
always complained about the noise Melissa made when she played,
but never seemed concerned about the racket she kicked up when
she was being punished.

Henry stopped spanking Melissa and left her alone again. He went
back to his armchair and continued reading his book while his
stepdaughter cried noisily. Henry ignored the juddering boo-hoos
and bubbling snotty sniffs and concentrated on his story.
Poor Melissa was utterly miserable. The repeated spankings had
been terribly painful and even now when she was not actually
being hit, her bottom hurt horribly. And as she was still tied up
and her stepfather had not yet used the ping-pong paddle, she was
sure her ordeal was not over yet. The thought of her poor sore
bottom getting a whacking from the dreaded paddle made her wail
even louder. Yet another trouble was that fear, pain and the
passage of time were combining to increase the pressure on her
full bladder. It was no good; she would have to tell Daddy she
needed to go even if it got her into worse trouble.

"Daddy I buhuu urgh sniff ah urgh um blub glug wee-wee buhuhaaa
snuffle sniff," she wailed plaintively.

Unsurprisingly, Henry made no sense of this sentence. However, he
rose from his seat and went over to his stepdaughter's head,
pulled out his handkerchief and held it to her small nose,
"Blow," he instructed. The blubbering girl blew obediently. Henry
glanced at the gooey mess deposited in his hanky, and then held
it to her nose again, this time blocking off one nostril. Melissa
blew again, and then, as he blocked off the other side of her
nose, again. Satisfied that his stepdaughter's nasal airway was
now clear, Henry went across and picked up Melissa's little pale
blue panties. He turned them inside out and folded them so that
the crotch was uppermost. Then, as Melissa desperately began to
speak again, he shoved the pad right into her mouth and very
effectively shut her up. He undid the bow of one of her hair
ribbons and pulled it free. He tied the length of ribbon over
Melissa's open mouth and knotted it behind her neck, keeping the
gagging knickers in place.

That would stop her trying to beg off her punishment, Henry
thought, looking with satisfaction at his securely silenced
stepdaughter's face. Her big blue eyes were wide with an agony of
frustration and distress. Stray fair hairs from her ringlets
stuck to her sweat-sheened, tearstained cheeks. A dribble of spit
had overflowed her trembling lower lip and now dripped from her
chin. He walked around her table, admiring his stepdaughter from
every side. She really was a little cutie! Bound as she was she
could hardly move a muscle apart from the odd twitch and tremble
here and there. She was at his mercy. He moved round behind her,
admiring what he had already done to her bum, which blazed with
bright colour. He reached out a hand and tickled her between her
legs, making her squirm and gurgle inarticulately. This tickling
had become a habit when he spanked her. The first time he did it
he had been concerned lest she complained to her mother about his
indecent touching, but now he knew that Melissa would never
willingly tell her mother anything, for fear of further
retribution. So he felt free - quite literally! - to do as he
liked. Of course, what he was not to know that today his lewd
handling was also increasing Melissa's desperate need to urinate.
As it was, having amused himself with her body, Henry went back
to his book.

When Henry had finished reading his short story he turned again
to the subject of his young stepdaughter. He crossed to his desk
and picked up the ping-pong paddle. It was a very satisfactory
implement, he thought, with its short comfortable handle and
large round blade perfectly balanced. The plywood surface was
covered in minutely indented green rubber that he believed added
to the sting. The diameter was ideal for Melissa's plump little
bottom and he could cover both cheeks or concentrate on one side
or the other. When he went over to Melissa, she began to struggle
frantically as much as she could - which was not much - and to
glug and gurgle through the gagging panties, much to Henry's
amusement. He knew she did not like being paddled - and he could
hardly blame her for that! He pressed the flat green blade to
Melissa's round red bottom and smiled at the contrast in colour.
He pushed down firmly and flattened the springy flesh. Melissa
squirmed and gibbered in distress. Then, having tortured the
little girl with what was to come, he gave it to her.

The paddle slammed against Melissa's tender flesh. A muffled
bellow of agony broke from her gagged mouth. She struggled
desperately against her bonds. Henry swung back the paddle and
swatted her again. The effect increased in intensity. He kept on
hitting her - ten smart swats to her already painfully inflamed
buttocks. Tears streamed down the fine planes of Melissa's lovely
cheeks. Snot oozed from her exquisitely sculpted nose. Muted sobs
broke from her deliciously delicate lips.

Perfect!

Henry Montague left his stepdaughter while he read another story.
Somehow, Melissa managed to keep control of her near bursting
bladder. Then at last Henry moved over to release the suffering
child. He unbuckled the straps and ripped off the sticky tape,
adding yet another pain to the myriad pangs she was already
suffering. Despite her misery, Melissa began to look forward to
the end of her ordeal. She stood, moving her cramped limbs. Now,
as soon as Daddy removed the gag-

Daddy was taping her wrists together! He was pushing her into the
corner! He was not untying the gag! He was speaking: "Now, you
can just spend the next hour standing in the corner!" It was all
too much. The need to urinate, so long withstood, overwhelmed
her.

Henry Montague heard the hissing, splashing torrent and saw the
growing puddle around Melissa's feet. He felt some natural
sympathy for the child's plight, but showed none. He glanced at
Melissa's battered bottom and came to a decision. "You disgusting
child!" Henry Montague said, "I shall not spank you any more
tonight, but tomorrow it will be my painful duty-!"

Remember: Real children are precious and fragile. Please always
treat them with kindness and respect.