I was appalled. I was scared. But I knew I had no choice. This had
gone past the point of stopping. Paul was excited. Lim was excited.
Natashia was looking at me with gleaming eyes, a crazy smile on her
face. And besides, didn't I know this was going to happen when I put on
those tiny pants? They could almost see everything anyway.
     "Wait!" Paul said, an idea forming in his head. "Let's blindfold
her first, so she can't see what we're gonna do!"
     Natashia agreed. Lim just smiled. Paul blindfolded me.
     I hooked my fingers in the waistband of the pants. I pulled them
down and let them drop around my ankles. I knew where Paul would be
looking so I clenched my buttocks, trying to make them less conspicuous.
Lim was probably looking at my hairless slit.
     Paul slapped my bare flesh. "Don't do that," he said.
     I relaxed. Hell, he was just a kid, let him have his jollies.
                                * * *
     Paul put four large bricks on the grass in the doorway of the horse
stall in the barn, mid-way between the edges of the doorway. He then
made me stand on the bricks. He then pointed to the upper corners. I
nodded and held up my arms. He motioned for me to stand on my tiptoes
and to reach for the corners. First one wrist, then the other, was
secured tightly to the eye bolts in the corners. I had a little trouble
balancing, but I managed. Then, kneeling, he ran the ropes from my
ankles through the hooks in the bottom corners. Then he said, "Brace
yourself," and jerked both ropes. This pulled my legs apart, off the
bricks, and threw all my weight on my wrists.
     I yelled. Paul looked up at me, but he held the ropes. He managed
to tie one rope to the other and there I was, hanging by my wrists. This
was a serious undertaking.
     "This more interesting?" Paul asked in his whiny teasing voice.
     It was hard to talk at first, but I finally managed to groan, "Yes,
it is very interesting."
     Paul laughed. "It's a real strain at first, but your mind can
control your body and you'll learn to hang limply."
     I was suspicious, but I decided to try to take Paul's advice. I
just let my head fall on my chest and tried to blank my mind. 

                              Chapter 3

     I pestered Natashia until she said I could watch her get spanked.
I said I would bring Paul with me. She thought that would be terribly
embarrassing, having a ten year old boy watch her get it. But if I
wanted to I should just do it, without asking if it was okay.
     I didn't think anything about it for several days. Then one day,
when I got home from school, my mother said that Natashia called and I
could stay over the weekend if I wanted to. Mom said it was okay.
                                 * * *
     "I'm going to Natashia's house." I told my mother after supper on
Friday. I didn't say anything about Paul. My mother didn't like girls
and boys staying overnight together, now that we were getting older.
     I picked up my knapsack and went outside.
     Natashia's house was only a couple blocks. Paul was waiting for me
around the corner. He was excited, even though he didn't know why I had
invited him along. Being just a little kid, he was used to being
rejected by us older kids. He had a brown paper bag with him.
     When we arrived, I was scared. While Natashia had seen me tied up,
I had never seen her spanked. I had no idea how her father might react.
     When we entered the house, Natashia's father, Curt, greeted me with
a kiss on the cheek. His breath reeked of stale beer. He said, "Nola,
Natashia said you were coming." He looked at Paul with a strange smile.
"Come in, both of you, and sit down. Natashia is waiting."
     Boy, Natashia sure was waiting.
     She was wearing a tight halter top and snug, short shorts that
hugged her beautiful behind; they were almost like her bikini
underpants. With half of each cheek exposed, they revealed more than
they concealed. Natashia was certainly better endowed than I was.
     It didn't do anything for me but Paul had a good eye for a girl's
bum. We all knew that when we wore anything tight around the buttocks,
especially shorts or our bathing suits, he couldn't keep his eyes off of
us. But he wasn't the only one. At the pool, lots of dads looked too.
     And sometimes when Natashia played with us, Paul managed to squeeze
her delicious ass, or maybe trailed a finger across one of her cheeks
and goosed her a little bit and she wasn't even disturbed about it. She
was used to the boys patting her on the behind and giving it a squeeze
when they could. Everybody thought that Natashia had a cute ass, maybe
even a great ass, and she knew it too. Didn't she pick her clothes, more
or less, to show it off? Tight jeans? Spandex skirts revealing
everything? Maybe other girls were pissed, but that didn't bother
Natashia in the least. It didn't bother me either.
     So when Paul admired Natashia's ravishing rear end, and got away
with a touch, a pat, a squeeze, and now and then, a goose, Nola was not
surprised.
     Natashia noticed how nervous I was and how agitated Paul was; and
she smiled and then said weakly, "Relax. It's okay. At least, you guys'
will have a good time this weekend!" I thought it was a sick smile.
     That told me a lot about Natashia. I continued into the room.
     Her father spoke, "Nola, why don't you sit here at the end of the
couch, and Paul, you too."
     "Where's your mom?" I asked Natashia.
     "She went to visit her mother for the weekend," she answered, "so
dad's having some guys over for a few beers...and stuff." She sounded a
little hesitant, especially with the "and stuff" part.
     I peeked at her father. His beer gut undulated when he walked.
     The doorbell rang. Curt went to the door and opened it.
                                 * * *
     The minister's name was Mr. Harvard. I never even heard his first
name. He was a fundamentalist preacher who was also a member of the
local school board. He lectured and sermonized a lot about sin, thought
about it a lot, and was prepared to see it scourged out of a sinner.
     If he couldn't do the scourging himself, he wanted to watch and to
supervise to be certain that the chastisement was sufficient to atone
for the sin. He, of course, insisted that atonement be preceded by full,
honest confession and that if more extreme measures were needed to get
a confession, so much the better. Eventually she, in his opinion most
sinners were female, would confess. She would be uncomfortable, would
certainly cry and probably beg and plead to be released, but that could
not be helped. Once under punishment, she would be restrained until her
confession was heard.
     He took one look at the scantily clad Natashia and compressed his
lips into a tight line as he stared at her with flaming eyes.
     Now this little heathen needed to confess and be saved, he thought.
     "Good afternoon, Reverend," Natashia said shyly.
     Curt looked at his brother-in-law with a wide grin.
     The doorbell rang a second time. This time Natashia answered it.
                                 * * *
     Curt thought about Uncle Jeremy and his idea of discipline. He was
one of the older generation, at sixty, twenty years older than Curt. He
was a short, bald, fat, single-minded, stubborn man, who demanded to be
obeyed, and angered quickly when somebody was naughty. When needed, the
guilty recipient was grabbed and dragged into his private room. Dragged,
by an ear or by a nipple or by a hand, Jeremy didn't care. And the
guilty party would go up over the back of Jeremy's chair, and girl or
boy, it did not matter; well, yes it did matter. Uncle Jeremy was less
interested in spanking the boys when they had been naughty. Bad
behaviour from boys was more or less expected. Even though Curt had
gotten it once for something really serious, although he couldn't
remember what it was.
     But Jeremy was at his best when the culprit was a girl. He had
higher standards for girls and he insisted on them being observed. He
demanded it.
     Pants and underwear, shoes and socks, shirts or tops, everything
would come off, legs were spread wide, ankles were fastened to the back
legs of the chair, wrists fastened to the front legs, and the guilty
child was given time, a long time, naked and frightened, to consider the
crime. Sometimes Jeremy would run his hands over the bare bottom before
him, fondling it prior to punishment. Of course, he could not help
looking at the delicious young femininity that was exposed. But he could
bear up under the strain. And then, when plenty of time had passed to
think and to worry, only then would Jeremy take his strap, a sturdy
length of leather, long and wide and wicked. Jeremy would study the bare
flesh, consider the crime and decide on suitable punishment. All this in
total silence, though now and then a guilty girl, pondering her criminal
behaviour and the punishment sure to follow, would begin to cry in
anticipation, feeling in advance the fiery kiss of the leather strap
across her tender buttocks.
     Only then Jeremy would give an efficient strapping, long and very
slow, with lengthy intervals between strokes, really fierce, scorching
the upturned flesh flaming red; hearing and ignoring the cries and
screams that always came; paying no attention to the pleas for mercy
that he knew he would hear; laughing at youthful promises to be good, to
obey, whatever, if only..... Uncle Jeremy delivered a judicious
thrashing, a noisy one, one that could be heard by everybody in the
house. A little noise was a good thing; everybody else would know what
was happening. The spanking would be accompanied by screams and tears.
It was bound to be remembered, and just might modify a child's behaviour
for the better, though probably not. It would usually have to be
repeated. Many times.
     Of course, Jeremy had no personal interest in looking at naked,
female buttocks, even if the ass belonged to one of his nieces or
daughters, or watching it buck and heave as it was repeatedly kissed by
that awful strap. He did not really want to look at young, naked little
girl's pussies, at thighs which would have loved to clench to hide the
secret treasures between them, at that most private spot between parted
cheeks. No, not Uncle Jeremy. But did all this give him a furious
erection? Well, maybe.
                                * * *
     Curt certainly remembered. He had watched many such thrashing's,
yes, he remembered well. He, too, had been over the back of that chair,
his bottom bared, everything showing while Uncle Jeremy gave him the
treatment, the whole treatment.
                                 * * *
     So when Curt asked Uncle Jeremy, since he was retired and living
close by, if he would come over for the weekend and remind them of the
way that things used to be done, Uncle Jeremy liked the idea just fine.
     And just in case, in his overnight bag was the strap, a wicked
looking length of black leather, about three inches wide and twenty-four
inches long, with the end cut into three tongues. It was the same one
that Uncle Jeremy had used years ago.
     It was capable of inflicting ass-blistering spanking, if punishment
was to happen. Would punishment happen? Curt would decide. Reverend
Harvard would certainly watch, never going to pass up the chance to see
justice carried out. He would be judge and jury, would indict and
convict and pronounce sentence and Uncle Jeremy would carry it out.

                              Chapter 4

     The men were out on the patio. Curt and Jeremy guzzled beer and
chewed on huge, stinking cigars. Reverend Harvard sipped tepid water.
The two obese men were stripped to shorts, letting their flabby hairy
bellies flop around and showing their hairy armpits when they reached
for another beer or the ashtrays. Jeremy, although he was completely
bald, was hairy all over, just like a shaggy dog. The wrinkled, old
minister stayed dressed in his black suit with his tie correctly knotted
although his pot belly was evident. Paul was with them. He was wearing
just his skimpy underpants because he didn't bring his bathing suit, and
his belly hung in a greasy fold over the front. It almost looked like he
was nude. Nola hadn't noticed that he seemed to be getting heavier,
What's with these guys, she thought, don't they care, don't they see?
     Nola was looking out Natashia's bedroom window. She groaned.
"It looks just like a pig pen out there," she said in disgust. "It's bad
enough they are so huge but to expose themselves like that..." she
stopped, realizing that it was Natashia's family she was talking about.
     "Yeah," Natashia agreed, twisting her face in a look of disgust.
     "Pretty gross, isn't it. You got that pig-pen part right! If we
could sell the pig-meat that you see, we'd be rich!"
                                 * * *
     "How many beer do you think they've had," Natashia asked. She was
sitting on her bed looking kind of sad.
     "Why?" I asked.
     "Well, I guess it's time I got them going if you want to see it!"
     "What?" I asked, not understanding what she was talking about.
     "Well, you see, Nola. I've got to piss off the Reverend to get it
started."
     "Why? What started?" I guess I was really stupid. Natashia looked
at me like I was, anyway.
     "Spanking, stupid! They need an excuse. Don't you get it?"
     "I thought it just happened!" I exclaimed.
     "No chance. There has to be a reason. You know my dad's the mayor
and the town constable. He sure doesn't want a scandal."
     "Wow!"
     "And you'd better not tell anybody about this. Or dad will have to
arrest you and put you in a jail cell. You wouldn't like that! Or would
you?"
     "No, I guess not!"
     "Come on Nola, get with it. I'm just kidding."
     I looked at my friend with tears in my eyes. She was going to start
this just so I could see her get it.
     "The thing is, I've got to get them horny. This is really a sex
show. That's easy with dad because mom doesn't even sleep in the same
room with him. Because of his weight and all. And he peeks at my ass all
the time when he thinks I don't know he's around. But the others, they
just need an any excuse so I'm going to give them one. And you can
help."
     "How?" I stammered.
     "First off, you got to show some skin. I'll seem okay out by the
pool, so get into a pair of my shorts and a halter top or something.
I've got some old stuff that should fit you, when I was littler. And
remember, when this starts, it won't stop, so don't interfere. Got it?"
     "Yeah, I got it," I said. But really I hadn't.
     "So get ready to watch a play which is going to combine striptease,
moral self-righteousness, spanking and sex as a blood-sport."
                                 * * *
     I changed into a pair of Natashia's old shorts and halter top. Then
I followed her down the stairs and we headed toward the patio.
     "No turning back now," she grimaced.
     They were all watching us. I just followed Natashia. She went right
to Jeremy and put her arm around his neck. Then she picked up his beer
bottle and took what looked like a long drink. I was stunned.
     She sat on his lap for a few minutes then took one of his
cigarettes from a half empty pack and lit it. She drew in deeply and
expelled a cloud of smoke directly at Reverend Harvard. I couldn't
believe my eyes. I thought I was dreaming. Natashia didn't smoke and
drink. Or at least I didn't think she did.
     The look on the Reverend's face was appalling.
                                 * * *
     On a sunny Friday night, Nola and Paul were at Natashia's house
with Jeremy and Curt sitting and watching while the Reverend Harvard
marched Natashia around the room, holding an ear lobe firmly between
thumb and forefinger. Natashia's hands already fastened behind her back,
her wrists tied together with a length of sash-cord that Jeremy just
remembered to bring along, just in case. This is exactly what Uncle
Jeremy would have done twenty years earlier. The Reverend emphasized
loudly the part of about the thorough spanking on her bare buttocks. He
loosened Natashia's belt buckle, and with a tug, pulled her tight, sexy
shorts down over her hips, and as soon as they were down to her knees,
reached up and grabbed the nylon panties, tugging them down too. This
also was just like Uncle Jeremy, who almost as much as anything liked
that first look at the bare ass which would get his attention. Now nude
from the waist down, Natashia gasped in embarrassment, not wanting her
uncle, her father, and her friends looking at her body. They stared. All
of them had seen this breath taking ass a thousand times before, but
always clothed, only her father had see it bare. And she looked as good,
semi-nude as they had imagined. Jeremy was trying to conceal it, but he
had a furious hard-on and all he could think of, just then, was which of
a thousand different things he could do with it, with Amy as an
unwilling partner in each fantasy.
     The Reverend looked up, noted that Jeremy and Curt were hard as a
rock, but said nothing. He thought that Natashia had better get used to
being nude before them, that they would be seeing all there was to see
on a fairly regular basis from now on, if he had his way, though he had
no intention of turning Natashia over to Jeremy for his pleasure. No,
the minister was positive that this teenager would get her share of
fucking in the future, but Jeremy was not going to be the sex partner.
     But one thing that was very much in his plan; that Natashia would
learn obedience, total obedience, absolute obedience. Starting right
now!!!
     The Reverend's hand drew back, and he gave Natashia an explosive,
hard crack with his bare hand on Natashia's naked ass, leaving a bright,
flaming pink hand-print on Natashia's ass. Natashia squealed, not
realizing that a single hard blast from a bare hand could hurt so much.
The second swat on the other cheek hurt even more, and the slow, even
spanking, each stroke alternating from one cheek to the other had her
crying almost hysterically in only a few moments. Jeremy was delighted
to notice that as the spanking was applied, hard and slow, and that
Natashia quickly forgot about trying to hold her legs together. After
the third or fourth smack, he could see pussy almost constantly. And
better yet, the Reverend seemed perfectly aware that everyone could see
and was looking, and further that the men had furious erections. Jeremy
knew full well that there was no way that Curt or the Reverend was going
to let him fuck this delicious teenager; that his pleasure would be
simply visual, at least for now. But Jeremy had lusted after Curt's sexy
daughter for a long time, and he knew that sooner or later his moment
would come, that some opportunity would arise when he got this
delightful cutie nude when Curt wasn't around. His interest was
heightened even more when the Reverend pulled up Natashia's tank-top,
discovered that she was wearing a strapless bra that hooked in front,
unhooked it and tossed it on the floor, and let Natashia's full,
luscious breasts swing free, the pink nipples standing erect, obviously
from fear. So now the men had a look at the whole package, completely
nude Natashia. Jeremy could wait, would have to wait, but his fantasies
multiplied. And when the Reverend seized each jutting nipple between
thumb and forefinger and firmly squeezed, Natashia gasped in agony and
cried and begged for forgiveness. When the minister ordered her to
spread her legs, she did it immediately. Jeremy's eyes almost popped out
at this humiliating act.
     Paul was ecstatic. He was twisting and groaning as he watched the
obscene spectacle. Nola just stared.
     He started the spanking again, another series of very hard swats
with his bare hand to Natashia's heaving, twisting ass. All the twisting
in the world would not make Reverend Harvard miss. One hard stinging
shot after another, each one accompanied by crying, by pleading, by
begging to forgiveness, by promises to be good. Nothing helped. Nothing
would have helped. He gave it to her as hard as he could swing,
lecturing her with each swat, colouring the beautiful, breath-taking
buttocks bright red.
     The way the Reverend taught obedience was the old fashioned way,
applied hard and slow to a naked bottom, and the more heaving, twisting,
crying, screaming and begging for forgiveness, the better!! He would not
forget and would not forgive. He would control. Absolutely. And that is
what he was doing, right now. Taking absolute control.
                                 * * *
     For Natashia it had been an absolutely horrible evening so far, and
now was threatening to get even worse. She had been stripped, stark
naked, and then spanked, thoroughly spanked on her bare buttocks, in
front of her father, her uncle, and her best friends by that hideous
Reverend, something that she had never, in wildest imagination thought
would ever happen to her. She thought of the evening's humiliating
events, of being caught and stripped naked and shown off nude and
terrified, and of the hard spanking.
     And the worst thing, when the bastard took her cute little panties
off her gorgeous ass, he rubbed his hands across her buttocks, gently
fondling each lovely, naked cheek, and then, found a path between her
thighs and tested how it felt to run a finger into teen-aged pussy and
feel her body just writhe when he found her clitoris.
     She began to cry all over again.
                                 * * *
     Reverend Harvard took Natashia by an ear, and led her into the
house. She looked a mess. She was crying, knowing that she was going to
be punished again. But not yet. Her hands were unfastened and she was
pushed into the shower, given a bar of soap, ordered to scrub, and when
she was spotless, to present herself, naked, in the basement. Natashia
showered, slowly, taking as long as possible to scrub herself, not
anxious at all to go to the basement. She was still in the shower when
the door burst open, her Uncle Jeremy walked in, reached into the shower
stall, turned off the water, and grabbed her by a still erect nipple.
Twisting and pulling, he said to her, "Let's go little girl, you're
keeping us waiting."
     He tossed her a towel, watched her dry off, and spanked her red,
throbbing bare ass to speed her up, and then followed her as she ran,
naked, down the stairs to the basement. She expected everyone to be
there waiting. They were!
     Natashia thought that the Reverend was the one she feared the most.
He was the typical do-gooder, fundamentalist, fire breathing, hell
threatening hypocrite. She did not know what they were going to do to
her now, but she knew that it would not be good for her.
                                 * * *
     Uncle Jeremy fastened her into cuffs. Her arms were attached behind
her back. She was totally naked and totally petrified. She was standing
before them, her nipples erect from fear and cold. The Reverend was
standing in the centre of the damp, smelly room, holding Jeremy's
leather strap. Jeremy and her father were seated, staring at Natashia's
nipples and at her curly pubic triangle. Nola and Paul stared at
Natashia, Nola with compassion, Paul with lust. Uncle Jeremy was hoping
that the preacher would turn the teenager over to him for punishment;
and for Jeremy, punishment meant first a blistering, bare ass whipping
and then, hopefully, fucking. Now, he was afraid, Natashia would get
her's all right, but she would get the strap from the minister and the
fucking, maybe even up the ass, from that rotten, lecherous so-called
preacher, as well. Well, he thought, at least he would get another look
at Natashia's delicious bare ass.
     The Reverend knew that this girl was a secret sinner, in thought as
well as deed and she needed to be scourged and to be examined. He looked
forward to the occasion with great joy.
                                 * * *
     Nola fantasized that it was her ass getting ready for the spanking
with the wicked leather strap. She imagined the furious, welting agony
as the strap tore into her bare buttocks, making her writhe in exquisite
torment, making her cry and squirm, and almost making her cum in the
process. And she imagined the preacher, nude and erect, huge and hard
and demanding. And that it was her body that was being slowly,
forcefully penetrated, opened wide, and fucked!
     She knew that if she was thrashed by that vile man the spanking
would be only the beginning. Nola knew, just knew, that her own naked
body would get violated. She knew that Natashia and Paul would be there,
watching. But so would those two fat slobs.
                                 * * *
     Natashia was getting spanked with the strap, slowly, hard,
encouraged to confess. He made Natashia tell him in full detail
everything. She told; how Nola like to be tied up, how she got sexual
release from it; how Paul liked to look at a girl's bum; including the
fact that Nola expected to be stripped by the Reverend, spanked,
and...and...other things. He was delighted. He ordered Jeremy to bring
Nola over for questioning and penance.
                                 * * *
     The Reverend demanded to know all, and got the full, glorious
details of Nola's pleasure with the ropes. Nola was terribly frightened,
but much more excited than scared.
     "Let's see what this disobedient little girl looks like. Get her
clothes off of her."
     Jeremy pulled the halter top over Nola's head and Nola was twisted
around, showing off her tiny, bare breasts and her very erect pink
nipples. Jeremy fondled Nola's tits, massaging the erect nipples.
     The Reverend nodded, perhaps in approval. Next, Nola's shorts came
down followed by her panties. Jeremy spun her around again, this time
showing off her maturing buttocks. She was built exactly the way the
preacher liked girls to be built, nice little breasts, nice thighs, nice
hips, great ass, a hairless pink slit.
     The preacher was furiously erect, making no effort to hide his very
obvious hard-on. He was going to give it to this cutie soon, and probe
her sexy holes if he could get away with it. He reached for her, and
pinched her naked ass. And then drew back his hand and gave her a hard
spank on the right cheek, leaving a pink imprint. She squealed, more in
shock than in pain.
     The two girls were interrogated together, ordered to confess their
sins. He wanted especially to hear about lesbian love play. They both
denied that perverted act. But Nola quickly admitted to the bondage and
the sexual relief she got from it.
                                 * * *
     The preacher was horrified. Reverend Harvard was hugely erect. He
undressed, showing them a monstrous, thick hard-on. It looked gigantic,
terrifying to the two young girls. He also had the leather strap.
     The two children were laid, side by side over a bench, naked,
buttocks raised, legs spread, wrists fastened behind their backs. Both
girls were lectured. Both were punished; the strap firmly dishing out
its wicked strokes on first one ass and then the other. Both bare
behinds turned pink and then red as the leather did its insidious work.
It was a loud, noisy spanking, and certainly very vicious. Both girls
cried and begged for forgiveness.
     The preacher explored Natashia's asshole with a crooked finger,
stretched her out with a second finger, and slowly inserted his
monstrous cock, pushed it through the sphincter, and buried it in her.
     Jeremy watched the insertion, watched every single stroke, silently
cheering the pervert on as he took her ass, watching as he reached his
hands under her, grasped her nipples between thumb and forefinger, and
squeezed. She was entirely helpless. She knew now that he would take her
to total, heaving, bucking orgasm as soon as he wanted to and that there
was nothing, absolutely nothing that she could do to stop him.
     Then Jeremy picked up the strap and really laid into Nola's ass
while her friend was being ass fucked. The force of the blows was
greater than Nola would ever have imagined for starters. Red streaks
appeared on each cheek.
     "How're those for starters?" Jeremy asked the leering Curt.
     Without taking his eyes from the obscene performance he answered,
"Just right big brother. Keep it up."

     Curt began a rhythmic application of the strap to Nola's ass. He
resumed his previous position and began to swing the leather. The
initial strokes caught Nola on the ass, but soon Jeremy was hitting her
on the thighs and back.
                                 * * *
     Paul was mesmerized. He'd never dreamed it would be like this. Oh,
he'd read about whipping, but to actually see the scalding of a friend's
ass and legs, well, that was really something. He enjoyed listening to
Nola grunt and groan as her body absorbed the force and the pain of each
stroke.
     He looked over at Natashia's father. He was smoking and drinking
beer, staring intently at Nola's surging ass and the Reverend fucking
his daughter's ass. This jolted him. And then he caught Curt jerking
furiously on his huge cock.
     Wow!
                               Chapter 5

     Finally, dropping the strap, Jeremy said, "We'll let her rest a bit
if that's okay with you Curt. We got the rest of tonight and tomorrow,
too"
     Curt said, "Don't matter to me. Whatever you guys want is fine with
me."
     When the whipping and fucking was finished and Natashia and Nola
were released, Natashia said we would be having pizza for supper.
     While we waited for the pizza to be delivered, the men drank and
smoked and talked about the rest of the night.
                                 * * *
     The next morning, after three pieces of toast, Natashia threw down
her crust and said, "Shit."
     Looking up, the Reverend replied, "What did you say?"
     "I said 'shit'," she repeated. "I need a break. This is just too
intense."
     He replied, "What you mean is that you need your ass paddled."
     She said nothing for a moment, then, after lighting a cigarette,
she said, "You ready to do me, dad?"
     Curt nodded. Natashia stood and went back down to the basement.
Everyone followed. She stripped naked and this time she lay along the
length of the six foot bench. Curt quickly bound her ankles to the back
legs then pulled her tight and tied her wrists to the front legs,
tightening Natashia so she couldn't move. After locking the basement
door, Curt stripped then picked up a vicious looking riding crop.
     I undressed to my panties, but Jeremy or the Reverend or Paul
didn't.
     He hefted it the crop and swung it around in the air. Then, without
warning her, he hit the left cheek of her ass as hard as he could. The
crack sound echoed in the room and, almost involuntarily, Paul said,
"god."
     Natashia shrieked, and looked up at me. She was surprised to see my
bare tits and her eyes bulged, but then she said, "Like your dress."
     He hit her at least thirty times with that whip. And when he was
done, her back and ass and thighs were criss-crossed with the thin red
lines.