EMMA AT SCHOOL 17
Apres Bridge
On their parents' return
from their bridge game, a little earlier than expected, both girls were sitting,
talking animatedly, in the same room in which Emma's sister had already been
spanked twice. Mr Denning didn't
look very pleased.
"Kaitlin!
I sent you to bed didn't I?"
"Yes, Daddy,"
Emma replied before her sister could speak.
"I asked her to come down so I could talk to her about her behavior."
"Well, I'm glad you take these things seriously - but I wish you had taken
equally seriously the fact that I had given an instruction!" Mr Denning
snapped. "And what about you,
Kaitlin? Did you imagine I'd be
happy about you being up?"
Kaitlin shook her head
penitently.
"You're off to your
friend tomorrow, aren't you, Emma?"
"Yes, Daddy,"
his elder daughter replied with a smile, looking forward with pleasure to seeing
Deborah once more - and with a little trepidation to meeting the rest of this
family about which she had been told so much. "Daddy?" Emma
said again.
"Yes,
sweetheart?"
"I'm sorry for
asking Kitty to get up after you had told her to stay in bed.
I know I shall have to be punished for it.
"Well, I think if my
girls know when they've done wrong and are prepared to accept the consequences,
I should be a happy man. Kitty?"
Kaitlin's eyes were fixed on the floor. She
knew that she could, by mentioning her smoking, get her sister off.
She knew she should. Yet she
couldn't, and a single tear trickled down over one cheek.
"Yes, I deserve to be punished too," she confessed. "I agree," her father frowned.
"Though your sister shall have to take the brunt of it as she
invited you downstairs. I'll see
you both in your room in four minutes!"
The two girls shot
upstairs, Kaitlin watching for a fury in her sister's eyes which never arrived.
"Are you angry with
me?" Kaitlin asked.
"No, not
really," Emma told her. "I
did ask you to stay downstairs and talk to me."
"Yes, but you hardly
invited me down."
"Perhaps not,"
Emma agreed. Then a sly smile
spread across her face. "Of
course, if you feel that you need to request an additional punishment from me to
make up for me covering for you, that would be very fair." The two girls
had no time to progress the conversation further as, at that very moment, the
door swung open and Mr Denning walked into the smallish room the two of them
shared when Emma came home, followed by their mother.
There was no preliminary lecture.
"You know what I am
punishing you for - and it's late," he explained.
"Both of you take off all your clothes and stand facing me with your
hands upon your head.
Although both girls had
undressed before their father within the last twelve hours, stripping now with
each other present too brought a new embarrassment, enhanced neatly by their
father's choice of punishment. Mr
Denning did not attempt to steer his eyes away from the blooming breasts and
lightly thatched pubic hair of his girls, despite his wife standing behind him:
he was proud that they'd both turned out so beautifully. Emma, unsurprisingly, was the first to make herself ready,
while her sister took a little longer.
"I'm going to spank
you first, Kitty," he said, sitting on the side of her bed and holding out
a hand to the fourteen year old which she took without fuss, determined to put
on a good performance for her sister. Slowly
he drew her to him and then laid her across his knees, keeping her head up and
her legs out straight behind her.
"I'm going to give
you twenty smacks," he told his daughter.
"Then I'm going to put your big sister over my lap and give her
thirty-five," he continued, Emma's gasp almost audible.
"Darling, could you
possibly give my neck a rub. Thanks,
dear," Mr Denning then asked his wife.
Obediently (Emma couldn't help wondering whether the household's new
regime extended to the spanking of her mother), Mrs Denning took up position
behind him and began to massage his neck and shoulders.
"Mmmmm. That's lovely!" he exclaimed. "Perhaps I'll forget about that last rubber after
all," he concluded, feeding Emma's suspicions.
Then, and Emma could only hear this as she was facing away from her
sister with her hands still on her head, Kaitlin's bare bottom began to suffer
her father's wrath.
It was a good solid
spanking, Emma could tell - both by the cracking rapport of the blows - and by
the loud screeches of Kaitlin. "Her
squeals may," Emma considered, "be a little exaggerated - but this is
good, solid, old-fashioned corporal punishment.
And, at the thought that it would shortly be her making her way over her
father's lap to have her bare bottom soundly spanked, the familiar heat began
pulsing in her most secret places. Emma
could feel herself moistening at the combination of her and her sisters'
nakedness, Kaitlin's current predicament, and the discipline she had yet to
receive.
SMACK!
"Seventeen,"
Emma counted to herself as her sister's loud squeal gave evidence of the
punishment's effectiveness. Just
three more and then it would be her own naked body laid over her father's
thighs. She closed her eyes and
counted off the remaining smacks and then waited for her father's command.
"Emma, turn
around."
Obediently, the girl
turned to face the rest of her family. Kaitlin
was still sprawled over her dad's knee, her bottom bright red from her recent
chastisement. Emma was suddenly
aware of the tautness of her nipples and a flush spread quickly across her face
and delicate neck in embarrassment. "Kaitlin,
get up and put your hands on your head. Emma,
I'll have you over my knee, please."
For only the second time
in her life, Emma took up the traditional posture for the receipt of paternal
punishment. Her experience at
Bottom's Up she considered as totally different to this - the proper
chastisement of a man's children by his own hand.
"Ouuuchh!"
Emma rewarded her father
with a good, noisy yelp of pain at his very first smack and continued to wail
loudly throughout the rest of her spanking as Mr Denning lifted and dropped his
heavy hand over and over again, the ringing salvos of the rhythmic smacking
blending with Emma's howling to make music for his ears.
When Emma's spanking was
over, her father stood both girls in front of him to give them a brief
post-punishment talk about obedience before putting them both, still naked, to
bed, kissing their tear-stained faces and wishing them a good night.
Emma slept fitfully, her
hand between her thighs as she dozed. Images
of her, her sister and Deborah receiving spankings from a multitude of known and
unknown hands chased each other across the canvass of her dreams.
Emma was spanked on a bus by an inspector for not having a ticket -
knickers down right in front of a busload of people who did nothing to stop this
humiliating occurrence but simply quietly muttered their approval as her bottom
was warmed. Deborah tied Kaitlin up
with her legs spread and went on to fuck her with a huge assortment of sex toys
and household objects. Deborah
herself was subjected to a long hard caning over Emma's dad's knee before having
her greedy pussy eaten by him and Kaitlin simultaneously.
She woke up several times during the night in a sweat, shocked by the
impure thoughts of her subconscious but at the same time gasping with lust as
her fingers raced over her clitoris.
Somehow in the morning,
Emma managed to get through breakfast as though nothing had changed in the house
- although every wooden spoon or chopstick transformed itself in her mind's eye
into an instrument of chastisement. She
couldn't wait to get to Deborah's house where she could give herself up to her
lover's hands.
Mr Denning dropped her
off, reminding her sternly to behave herself, although Emma knew enough about
Deborah's own father to realise that this was an absolute imperative.
Deborah was at home
alone, her brother being out for the evening and her father and sister not
expected back until the following day. The
girls made full use of their solitude, abandoning themselves to mutual desire
for a long, warm, wet couple of hours, and then, after a long bath together,
plonked themselves, like teenagers across the globe, in front of the TV.
"Hey," Deborah whispered conspiratorially.
"Do you fancy a drink?"
"What?
You mean a drink drink?" Emma
replied with a nervous grin.
"Sure do."
Deborah pointed at the
full drinks cabinet and nudged her girlfriend.
"It's OK," she said. "Dad
won't be here till tomorrow and Hugh will be out till really late."
"Would your dad be
angry?" Emma asked.
"You do not want to
get caught by my dad drunk," Deborah said meaningfully.
"What do you
mean?" Emma asked.
Deborah looked at her
friend for a moment and then picked up the scotch bottle and poured two large
drinks.
"Get comfy, have a
starter and then I'll tell you." The two girls snuggled down together on
the soft blue sofa and began to drink, giggling loudly as they became more
tipsy. Deborah wouldn't tell her
story until they had reached the third, but by then she seemed to have gathered
her confidence.
"Well, I had a
boyfriend staying. No, that's not
right. He was a friend of my
brother - otherwise daddy would never have left us alone together...."
Emma interrupted.
"When was this?"
"Oh - about a year
ago. Anyway, me and Andy were in
the house on our own and he persuaded me - honest it was his idea - to sneak a
bottle of vodka or something out of the cabinet and up to my room.
He was very persuasive - I mean it only took him another half hour or
something to persuade me out of my knickers and... well, anyway, we're going at
it like..." "You mean you were making love?"
"If that's what you
want to call it - I was being well fucked, that's for sure..."
By now, the alcohol was
fizzing in Emma's head and she lay her head on her friend's shoulder and
listened to her unravelling the story, a gentle humming feeling beginning to
grow between her thighs. She
slipped a hand beneath her skirt and trickled her fingers over her mound through
her knickers, knowing that Deborah would notice and hoping it would help her
storytelling flow.