("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
`6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`)
(_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-'
_..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
(((' (((-((('' ((((
K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
_________________________________________
WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
_________________________________________
Scroll down to view text
--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2010. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your
consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------
Family Punishment
by Darla (darla@accessone.com) 1995
***
Family discipline is a tradition in this household. (Mf,
d/s, family-inc, bd, spank)
***
In the corner of the kitchen, nailed to the wooden
floor, a bit more than shoulders' width apart, were a
pair of worn clogs. When not in use, a pot of bulb
flowers -- paper whites, or tulips -- stood between
them, and they were stuffed with leaves and wild grasses
that made the whole thing look like a cunning Dutch
kitchen decoration.
At the moment, they were empty, the flower pot relegated
to another corner. In a moment, their 17-year-old's
pretty feet would occupy them.
Jeremy, at 14, made valiant efforts to keep the smirk
off his face, but was unable to contain his glee at
seeing his officious, overbearing sister get Level Three
on a day when he was home from school.
Level Three. Everyone who was home could observe, even
participate, if Dad had a mind to let them. Jeremy
fingered the pussy-strap on the table in front of him.
He imagined that if he lifted the butter-soft leather to
his nose, he might still catch the fragrance of fresh-
whipped pussy -- his sister's, even his Mom's. He
shuddered at the thought, but kept his hands busy in his
lap. He was overwhelmed at the idea that Dad might let
him do or help with The Rub.
Maj came into the kitchen, her face a thundercloud. Her
eyes flicked over her brother and squeezed shut in
agony. She knew there was no protest she could lodge, no
appeal she could make, that would remove her brother
from the scene, nor mitigate her punishment in any way.
Her father stepped into the room behind her.
"Your robe, Maj. And into the clogs." From the living
room, her mother appeared, looking as if she had been
crying. Maj couldn't meet her gaze. She slipped the robe
off her shoulders and caught it in one hand, flicking it
over the back of the kitchen chair next to Jeremy's.
She walked to the clogs, her small breasts barely
bouncing, the nipples hardening in the cool room.
Jeremy's breath came short and hard. He was always
astonished at the sight of his sister naked, her honey
gold hair brushing her shoulders, the way her belly-
button changed shape ever so slightly with the roll of
her hips as she walked, the close-clipped gold down that
covered but did not conceal her mons and the start of
her shaved pussys-lips.
She reached the clogs and turned to face into the room,
slipping her feet into the shoes, speading her legs wide
apart. Jeremy's eyes bulged as her pussy gaped open
slightly. She spread her arms wide without being told,
and her mother hurried forward to use the silken cords
that normally functioned as curtain tie-backs on both
windowed walls to secure her daughter's wrists to the
hooks put there for the purpose.
"Tell me why, Maj." her father said in his perfectly
even, deep and comforting voice. It was all he said. Her
words came tumbling out at a much higher pitch, falling
over each other, running together, punctuated by hiccups
and sobs, repeating a small story about earrings stolen
from her mother's jewelry box, about sneaking out to
meet a boy forbidden to her, sneaking back in and
breaking a precious vase as she climbed through the
window.
Jeremy wished she would turn around so he could see her
red bottom. The first part of a Level Three happened in
Dad's studio, and nobody else could watch, drat the
luck. He had listened though, listened as Maj had to
tell the story the first time and beg forgiveness, then
ask Dad if he would please spank her bottom.
She hated to do that, Jeremy knew. It hurt her pride as
much as Dad's hand hurt her bottom. And hurt it did.
Jeremy listened hard enough to hear the "sshhh" as her
panties came down and her whimpering as Dad took her
over his knee. But it took no hand cupped to the door to
hear her wails when Dad started to slap her fleshy
bottom hard. She cried like a baby during that part --
you can imagine what she sounded like when he had her
stand up and bend over for the fanny-strap.
Jeremy was sweating as the strap hsssss-whipped across
his sister's bottom, and she danced and wiggled and
begged her Daddy to stop, please, she was sorry, soooo
sorry! When Dad started to comfort her in his rumbely
voice, Jeremy took off for the kitchen, knowing the last
part was about to begin.
There was a heavy silence in the kitchen. Maj apologized
to her mother, and thanked her father for the punishment
she had received so far. Then she gulped hard and closed
her eyes as she thanked Jeremy for taking time to help
with her punishment. For once, he didn't grin. It was
time for The Rub.
Dad, and mother too, for that matter, had told Maj more
than once that in order for this part of the punishment
to have maximum effect, that part of her body had to be
sensitive, soft, engorged. As her father came toward
her, she closed her eyes and let her head drop back.
Jeremy watched in agony until his father turned his head
and nodded to him. Livia joined them, all three began to
gently, gently rub and stroke Maj's thighs and belly.
Jeremy, emboldened by permission, put his small hand
directly on his sister's mons and felt her shudder. It
felt alive in his hand, quivering and pulsing. He
stroked and rubbed gently, as he saw his father doing on
Maj's belly. He slipped his hand between her thighs,
cupping her soft, shaved pussy-lips. Again, they seemed
to pulse and grow in his palm, and he felt a wet
slickness on his hand just as his sister began to moan.
He crouched down and looked closely, saw the small,
pulsing head of her clit rise from its covering hood at
the very top of her spread slit.
"That's enough!" said his father firmly, startling him
into jumping up and releasing his handful of pussy.
"Enough."
Maj's breasts were heaving with each breath, her eyes
wide and wild. They stood and let her regain her senses,
mother and son stepping back as father reached for the
strap on the table and snapped it once or twice against
his palm. Maj began to whimper.
Dad stood back the proper distance and aimed, holding
the base of the strap firmly in his right hand, the tip
in his left. Without another word, he snapped it
lengthwise down her lower belly and her mons, eliciting
a sharp scream. In quick succession, he strapped both
thighs, on the front and on the tender insides, then
horizontally across her belly, then snap-snap-snap low
down on her mons and pussylips, these last making her
twist and screech and beg him to stop.
"Push!" he ordered her, "Push, young lady. You'll learn
to obey me one way or another! Push!" By this he meant
for her to thrust her hips forward, "pushing" her loins
up and out so that her pussy-lips were easier to strap.
"Daddy, no please!" she begged, but she did it anyway,
remembering -- no doubt -- the time she had closed her
legs and refused, and had been lifted and put on the
kitchen table, her arms and legs tied to the four corner
legs of the oak antique, for an entire afternoon.
That was the time a newly-awakened 12-year-old Jeremy
had, when his parents left the room for a bit, bent down
and kissed his sister's impossibly soft and swollen
pussy-lips, and had experienced his first orgasm.
A strangled screech from Maj snapped him back to the
present. Her pussy was deep pink and swollen, there were
pink stripes on her thighs and belly.
Dad was putting down the strap and going to her,
enfolding her in an embrace, running his big hands over
and over her marks. "Shhhhh, baby, all over now, all
over now," he kept saying. "Robe, Jeremy!"
He handed his father Maj's robe, and watched as he
draped it around her shoulders to keep her from catching
a chill. She would have to stand there a good hour, he
knew, during which time he would be able to touch her
and kiss her if he wanted to. He could even touch her
there, or squeeze in behind her to look at her bottom
and touch that too. Once he had poked a finger into her
bottom hole and made her holler -- his father had cuffed
him for that, but it had been worth it. Dad gave her a
kiss, and Mom too, and then it was time for lunch.
Jeremy sat at the big table, waiting for his sandwich,
watching his sister, who was sniffling and looking the
other way, knowing there would be another spanking
before bedtime, another family affair to endure before
this endless day was over. He fingered his aching cock,
wondering if she would holler this time.
END
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 67