CAROLINE SPANKED

BY MASTER CHRIS
chris_mc_v@hotmail.com

[ part 3 ]

From the age of 11 my ‘regular spankings’ were all done in the nude. The exercise was stunningly embarrassing for me and, as I developed even further as an adolescent, my breasts grew, my nipples got darker and much larger, my bottom became rounder, my light blond pubic hair stayed a light non-helpful dusting that never really covered anything and the level of humiliation at having to strip in front of my parents increased on the logarithmic scale.

On rare occasions however, I had experienced a different kind of spanking. This kind of punishment was more formal and, fortunately, only happened once or twice a year. A ‘proper’ punishment was terrifying and much, much worse. These kinds of punishments were reserved for times when I had been really bad. The last ‘proper’ punishment I’d received had been when I had just turned 11 and had sneaked into the nearby woods with two of my friends. We weren’t allowed to go into the woods on our own.

The second I got home, I knew I was in for it.

“I just got a call from Maureen’s Mom. You were in the woods, weren’t you?” said my Mom.

I nodded miserably. To my horror I wasn’t immediately pulled over my Mom’s knee.

“Get to the living room corner and you can wait there for your father,” my Mom instructed. “He’ll give you a proper strapping when he gets home. Maybe that will improve your memory of where you should and shouldn’t go when you play.”

I started crying right away when sentenced was pronounced. As I headed to the corner I knew that I was in for a horrible night.

When my father gave me a strapping, I would be bent over a piece of furniture, usually the arm of the sofa. My pants would be down of course and my bottom bare but it was my father’s leather strap that made the experience worth being afraid of. Unlike my regular spankings, a proper punishment took time and the strap was an implement that was used in a way that each smack was given a moment to sink in. The net effect was a deep burning heat that would leave me drenched in tears.

If it was my mother giving the proper punishment, she favored a long handled bath brush. It was also a fearsome instrument and she could place her smacks within millimeters of where she intended.

It came as no surprise that once my regular spankings became all nude spankings that there would be some change to my ‘proper’ punishments. I thought of it numerous times after I was 11 and when I’d get in a little trouble. My parents threatened several times that year to give me a proper punishment and the threat alone was enough to have me change my behavior instantly. For years I had found myself bent over for a proper punishment at least once a year if not twice but the year I was 12 I managed to get through an entire year without a proper spanking. I continued to have numerous regular punishments and while I never got comfortable with having to strip naked, it was something that I grew to expect.

Shortly after I turned 13, disaster struck and I found myself facing my first proper punishment in 14 months. I had been playing with friends and, despite my best opportunity to resist, I found myself trying a cigarette for the first time. My parents were nowhere to be found. After all, I wasn’t close to home but my friend Angela’s mom came across us in the back yard. I was terrified. I begged her not to call my Mom but the call went out before I even got home.

My Mom was waiting at the front door when I arrived a few minutes later, tears already welling up in my eyes. I looked up at her, hopeful that I’d be in for a regular punishment but one peek at her face and I realized that I was in deep, deep trouble.

“I’m too angry to even talk to you about this,” my mother said with a grim face. “Get in the house.”

My head hung down in despair. I was going to get it.

My Mom took me by the arm and dragged me into the living room. “Clothes off,” she said in disgust.

As usual, I removed all my clothes quickly and headed for the corner.

“I didn’t tell you to get in the corner Caroline,” my Mom said slowly. “I can see you’re having a great deal of trouble listening to your parents. We’ll see what a proper spanking does for your hearing. Now get back over here.”

I turned around and came back to my Mom. I figured I’d be bent over the arm of the sofa but my Mom had other ideas. I had grown some in the last 14 months and we had a low-backed easy chair in the living room. My Mom had me turn the chair around so it was facing away from the room. Grasping me firmly by the arm and dragged me to the back of the chair.

“Bend over it,” she said.

I whimpered a bit as I bent over the back of the sofa. My mother’s hands pushed at my back until I was fully bent over. My feet were firmly touching the floor but my bottom was now placed way up high in the air. It was the perfect level for a strapping which I was sure was coming later.

My mother wasn’t quite done. With her foot, she pushed at my ankles until they were wide apart, each foot touching the legs of the chair. I could feel the air conditioning in the room wafting across my suddenly very exposed pussy and realized for the first time that not only my bum but also my complete vulva were fully exposed from behind. I felt more vulnerable than at any time in my life.

My Mom scooped up my clothes and left me there, bent over, exposed to the room.

It would be close to an hour before my father got home and in that intervening I suffered an agony of anticipation. I dared not move an inch and every sound in the house sounded like a stranger walking in. I was mortified.

My father finally got home and I could hear my parents talking to each other about my transgression. I didn’t have long to wait now.

I could here my father pause at the hall closet. There could be only one thing he’d be stopping for; his leather strap. I sobbed into the soft cushions of the chair back that my face and breasts were pressed into.

My Dad’s strap was a weapon to be feared. It had started out life as a belt I suppose but no longer carried any kind of buckle. It was pure black, worn leather. It was 2 inches wide and although it was quite thick it was also very supple. He would double it up and usually used a full swing before the leather would connect with my bottom in a tremendously loud smack. The sound would arrive at my ears before the scorching sensation reached my brain. Once the strapping was underway though, the pain and intensity was pretty much non stop until it was over.

The tears started as I thought of that strap coming closer to my helpless bottom.

I could sense him standing right behind me and suddenly thought of the exposed view I was providing. It had been hideous enough over the past year and change to have to show my breasts and pussy hair as well as my often exposed bottom in front of him but being spread out and bent over like this was awful. I could feel his eyes looking right up between my legs. I knew he could see everything I had.

“Well Caroline?” his voice was right behind me. “Do you have anything to say for your incredibly stupid behavior?”

“No, Sir,” I mumbled. There was really no excuse.

“Your mother and I have tried to explain how dangerous smoking is for you but you clearly haven’t been willing to listen to that lesson. Now I’m going to try to have you learn it in a way that I hope you won’t forget.

A sob burst from me. I knew what was about to happen.

My father’s left hand came down on the small of my back to hold me still and suddenly the sound of the first smack reached my ears. I searing pain followed a moment later and I burst into tears. He waited a few seconds then the strap came down again full across my buttocks. Each couple of seconds the strap made a blistering line of fire across my bottom. The lines went first up from the crease of my buttocks to the top of my crack and then down again. I would have jumped up to try to escape except for my father’s firm hand on the small of my back. It went on for several minutes by which time I was a sniveling mess. I was sobbing and crying without pause and snot was dripping helplessly from my nose. I was beet red and unable to think about anything but my prayers that the strapping would stop.

Finally it did. My legs had been kicking all over the place but my father used his foot to push my ankles back to the sides of the chair.

My father waited a moment or two until my sobbing was almost under control before getting my attention again. I was feeling much more naked again with my father walking around the chair still holding the strap in his hand. My bottom was on fire.

“Well Caroline, you’ve been punished for not following the rules,” said my Dad. “You knew that not smoking was an absolute rule in this house, you broke that rule and you’ve been punished for it. But, I haven’t punished you for actually smoking. I’m going to give you four more strokes with the strap for that now. I expect you to remain absolutely still for four more strokes.

I sobbed again. My bottom couldn’t take any more.

My father was standing beside me now, facing towards my bottom with a view over the small of my back. To my absolute humiliation, I felt his cool hand touch my burning buttocks then pass all over them, feeling the heat.

“Oh my God,” I whispered to myself. The sheer embarrassment of having my father touch my buttocks was mortifying.

“Alright Caroline,” he said softly. “Are you ready for your four strokes?”

I paused for a moment before answering. I took a depe breath then said softly “Yes, Sir.”

I was in for the surprise of my life.

As soon as I said I was ready, my Dad’s hand stopped on my right buttock. He was still standing at my side, facing towards my bottom and his left hand was firmly cupping my right buttock with his fingers pointing down towards the floor. This left his thumb resting along the side of the crack of my bum. As humiliating as it was to have my Dad’s hand on my freshly strapped, absolutely naked buttock, what he did next took my breath away.

With a firm motion, my father pulled my right buttock to the side, pulling my bottom crack wide, wide open.

“No!” I cried but before I could move an inch, the strap was in motion and with a heat hotter than the sun itself, it landed along my inside of my still white crease.

My hands leapt back to try to reach the exposed flesh.

“Hands DOWN Caroline!” my Dad said firmly. With a bout of fresh tears, I lowered my hands again.

No sooner had I done so but the strap was in motion again, delivering another line of fire on top of the first.

My cries were inconsolable but there were still two strokes to come. My father was already in motion, moving to my other side and holding my left buttock now firmly in one hand. I could feel him pulling it and again, I was left spread wide open.

He held me like that for a moment and I found all my attention focused on a 1 inch square of flesh, my pink and now exposed anus.

I was held like that for a long moment then the strap was in motion again. This time the other side of my white crease received the strap and again I was in agony. A pause then the strap was in motion again. This time, the strap didn’t cover the exact spot but was shifted an inch closer to the center.

To my shock it landed along the middle left and middle of my crease including right over my pulsing anus which turned to flames.

My hands clawed back of their own accord, pulling at my buttocks, stretching them wide in a vain attempt to let the burning heat of my anus get at the air in the room.

My father moved behind me once again, watching me pull myself wider and wider apart, not caring that I was exposing my most intimate parts to the room.

“Well, she’s not going to forget that in a hurry.” It was my Mom. They were both there, behind me and I was showing everything to them as I continued to pull my buttocks wide open despite my desire to protect myself.

It was several minutes before the humiliation of being exposed could overcome the pain along the crease of my buttocks. I let my bottom go and returned my hands to the cushion in front of me. After all, I had not been given permission to get up.

“No Caroline,” said my father. “I think the position you were in suits you best, get those hands back there and hold your bottom wide open.”

I reached back slowly and pulled my hot buttocks wide open again. This time I was reluctant to do so. Although I had just done so willingly while the pain in my anus was severe, now it was to expose myself further and I could feel more tears coming as I exposed my bum and my pussy from behind. There was nothing I wanted to do less than open myself like that but after the strapping I’d just had, I was prepared to obey virtually any instruction. When I had spread my buttocks as wide apart as I could, I waited. I could feel the eyes of my parents looking directly into that area that I would have done anything to protect.

I was left like this for a minute or two. They seemed like days to me.

Finally, my father spoke again. “This position seems to get your full attention. From now on, if you’re to get a proper punishment, you’ll be waiting just like this over the chair. You’ll be nude. You’ll have your feet spread and you’ll be holding your little bottom wide open like this waiting for punishment. You’ll do that Caroline, no matter who is in the room. Do you understand?”

I whimpered my reply. “Yes, Sir.”

“Very well, you can stand up now,” he said. I stood up slowly and turned to face him. My hands went to the top of my head without asking. I had experienced such a number of regular spankings in the nude now that I knew not to cover up no matter how much I wanted to.

My father reached over and took me by the arm. I thought I was heading to the corner but in fact his destination was only about half-way. They had placed a short footstool from my Dad’s workshop in the middle of the room. It was about a foot high and no more than a foot square. I was told to get up on the footstool and put my hands on my head. I was still crying some. My parents sat down on the sofa where I was right in front of them when it finally occurred to me. The living room curtains were wide open!

While I’d been bent over being spanked I was pretty much invisible but now, now I was standing in front of the whole neighborhood. At least I was facing away from the picture window in our living room wall but anyone who looked directly into the house at this moment would see my naked back and buttocks.

My father looked my up and down. He and Mom were standing right in front of me. “Sixteen minutes Caroline,” he said, looking at his watch.

Tears trickled down my fact again at this newest humiliation.

When the time on the stool was over, I was finally left to head upstairs and put my t-shirt for bed. I was never so happy to leave the living room as that moment.

It was the last time I ever tried smoking.