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 One of Mary's fads was that her only child should look like an outdated chocolate box.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.