Asstr Punishment

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Asstr Punishment
Copyright 2016 by Olga's Little Boy, all rights reserved


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The sun streamed through the windows and bathed the room with friendly light, but Stephanie was not smiling and nor was Mrs Crooks, headmistress of Saint Benedict’s Traditional School and in whose office the two stood.


“Ms Flaxton writes here that your participation in her French class is at most ‘adequate’, that your homework is ‘slapdash’ and that your attention to learning vocabulary is ‘lacking’. Stephanie, if I believed this was the limit of your abilities I would administer such correction as to encourage greater persistence. However, I am quite sure you are capable of much more than these lacklustre efforts and as such you require a punishment severe enough to rebuke your laziness and improve your moral character.”


Oh God, this is going to be so bad! I’m so stupid for slacking! Stephanie’s mind filled with desperate and remorseful thoughts but she kept them to herself. Mrs Crooks was a stern woman, solidly built and still vigorous in her late forties, prone to frowning and a truly penetrating gaze with which she probed the sorry girl before her now. Stephanie lowered her eyes and clasped her hands behind her back.


“No, Stephanie, you are not. Shortly you may be and tomorrow definitely so. You will receive eight strokes of the leather strap on your bare bottom, after which you will give your underwear to me. You will receive another eight strokes tomorrow morning during Assembly and only then will your knickers be returned.”


Stephanie swallowed and could not help letting out a little squeak of fright. A split punishment meant the girl - meant she! - would have to go home without her panties and explain what had happened to them. There was no way she could cover this up even if her backside wasn’t bruised after the first eight, which was unlikely given how hard Mrs Crooks was known to hit.


Mrs Crooks pointed at the square table she kept in her office. Heavy sandalwood and deeply varnished, it almost glowed in the afternoon sun. There were no chairs and people rarely sat at it, but many an unhappy girl had lain over it and offered herself up to the pain of the headmistress’ hand, paddle, strap or cane, and more than a few tears had spilled onto its surface.


Stephanie scuttled to the table and bent over, carefully arranging herself. Ankles and knees together, legs straight, back arched and shoulders as low as possible, elbows bent and hands by her head, palms down. The school uniform skirts were so short that this not only showed off her slim, pale thighs but also revealed her cotton bikini panties. Mrs Crooks took a few moments to survey this beautifully presented backside and the long legs accompanying it. She was an equal opportunity admirer (and abuser) of pre-adolescent female bodies, but willowy tweens like Stephanie were always especially appealing to her eye.


“Good form. Of course I’m sure you’ve had plenty of practice at home. Tuck up your skirt and slide down your underwear.”


The girl reached behind her and folded the hem of her skirt up and under the waistband, uncovering every inch of her plain, white panties. She twisted and stretched so that she could tug the panties down and over her narrow hips and the swell of her lower cheeks before wiggling her bottom so that they slid down her legs to puddle at her feet. Stephanie adjusted her position and she was ready; skirt up, knickers down, pert, round, naked buttocks practically begging to be beaten.


Mrs Crooks stood for several more seconds and admired the view. Stephanie’s smooth, pink little pussy peeked between the gap at the top of her creamy thighs. She felt her own pussy begin to moisten and she hoped for the day she would get to use Stephanie’s pussy for her pleasure, grinding against it, pounding it with her favourite strap-on, oh, the fun of that…


Each moment felt like a minute to Stephanie as she waited for the punishment to begin. It was torture to have to bend over and present herself to the headmistress, knowing she was being eyed up. Enough girls had been sexually used by Mrs Crooks that every pupil knew what might happen if she decided she wanted you.


Finally the woman came to stand at Stephanie’s left and dropped a thick, flexible rectangle of leather in front of her head. The strap was black and glossy, double stitched, and heavy. Stephanie had never felt the sting of this wicked implement but her best friend Ellen had, and she’d told her it was the most painful thing she’d ever felt. Stephanie swallowed again and hoped she could make it through this eight - tomorrow’s eight and whatever might happen in between forgotten.


“Please Ma’am, may I have eight strokes of the strap on my bare bottom?”


“Eight. Certainly. What sort of strokes?”


“Hard strokes, Ma’am. Eight hard ones, please.”


“Since you asked so politely, of course you may. Remember to show your appreciation.”


Mrs Crooks held the strap to Stephanie’s face and the girl dutifully kissed it. Every punishment at the school began with this ritual and Stephanie always hated it. Having to ask to be beaten was humiliating, but if you didn’t play along it was much worse. You could quickly find yourself tied down for a dozen or more with the cane instead of a few strokes of the strap. There was no satisfaction in that sort of disobedience.


Mrs Crooks drew back her arm and swung the strap down against Stephanie’s backside, the leather cracking loudly against the soft flesh. Stephanie gasped and her whole body tensed as incredible pain ripped through her. A pink horizontal stripe had already bloomed across her cheeks.


The only response was another terrible swoosh as the strap swung and struck Stephanie’s bottom just as hard as the first. The blow landed higher up but felt even more stingingly painful. She hissed through clenched teeth and pressed her palms against the table. Moving out of position or saying anything that was not required would usually mean the stroke wasn’t counted so it was important to keep under control at all costs.


Again the headmistress spoke with the strap, landing another vicious blow, this one lower, almost at the crease of her thighs. Stephanie’s bottom was nearly completely pink now and she was in more pain than she had ever felt at school. Her backside felt like she was sitting in boiling water and she wanted desperately to rub it, but she had no choice but to stay still and let this cruel woman keep beating her.


The fourth stroke landed in exactly the same place as the third and Stephanie gave a strangled groan as her agonised backside lit up with fresh fire. Unable to use her hands, she flexed her thighs and calves, desperate for any relief at all. Through gritted teeth she replied.


“You’re welcome, Stephanie. That’s enough warm up, you’re ready for some hard ones now, aren’t you? And make sure to speak up.”


“Yes Ma’am. I.. sorry, I will, Ma’am.”


Both buttocks were now bright pink, a sight that only added to Mrs Crooks’ arousal. She felt truly lucky to have a job where she could indulge her sadistic desires on young girls so freely. She watched Stephanie carefully, waiting for the muscles to relax, strap at the ready, and the instant the girl unclenched she delivered a vicious hit right across the middle of her cheeks. Stephanie tossed her head and gave a yelp that subsided to a long, desperate moan. Her blonde pigtails flicked back and forth as she fought to remain still. She remembered to speak loudly.


The sixth stroke was, somehow, even harder than the rest, landing with such force that Stephanie felt her thighs bump against the edge of the table. Her universe had shrunk down to almost nothing but pain, the terrible, unbearable, endless pain in her vulnerable, exposed bottom. She blinked and her vision blurred with tears. Her fingers were bent like claws and her legs began to twitch as she flexed one knee and then the other in that futile dance for relief so common to young girls who are being punished.


Stephanie was panting for breath, anguished whimpers coming from between her gritted teeth and her lips were pressed tightly together. She was beginning to sweat, her heart was pounding and her mind raced. She would have given anything to be spared these last two strokes but the little rational part of her remaining knew that was impossible.


Once more the strap lashed against her upturned, offered backside, this time diagonally. Stephanie jerked and almost succumbed to the need to move her hands and soothe her aching flesh. She moaned and stamped her right foot once, twice, three times but somehow managed to keep her quivering body in place over the table. She sniffled and tears dripped down her nose. Her voice was becoming hoarse and ragged.


Mrs Crooks drew back her arm further and higher than she had before and smiled evilly to herself, full of sadistic joy at the sight of the suffering girl - suffering caused her by own hand. It was so powerfully erotic to see a sobbing girl wriggling and shifting and doing her utmost to keep her submissive pose no matter how much she wanted to move. She brought the strap down as fast and hard as she could and it hit Stephanie with a sound as loud as a gun shot. The headmistress saw the girl’s buttocks squash and ripple as the strap smashed across them.


Stephanie’s eyes flew open, she shrieked and her whole body went rigid. The pain was just incredible, unbelievable and unbearable. Being branded with a hot iron might hurt less than this! Her knees wobbled and she drummed her fingers on the table, her head thrown back and her mouth twisted as she cried out. She was sobbing now, her face soaked with tears and sweat and her body was shaking.


“Tha-th-thank you m-Ma’am. Ohgod… oh…”


The girl’s quavery voice tailed away at the end and she began to sag. Stephanie’s poor bottom had turned an angry red and was criss-crossed by two fat, purple swathes from the final two strokes. There were several swollen areas and the girl would certainly have some bruises to show the school tomorrow when she received her second set of eight.


“Stand, adjust your clothing and present your underwear to me.”


Still crying, Stephanie struggled to stand. She had to grip the edge of the table when her legs nearly gave out under her, but she was able to untuck her skirt and crouch down to slip her panties over her high heeled black patent Mary Janes. She wanted to badly to rub her screaming, burning backside but could not until the headmistress gave her permission - at least, not without earning an extra punishment. Instead, she held out her white panties with one trembling hand, still crying and breathing hard.


“Good girl. Now, what do you have to say?”


“Thank you for punishing me, Ma’am. I’m sorry and I’ll do better in future.”


Mrs Crooks claimed the panties. She gave Stephanie a hard look, savouring the last moments of domination. The girl was a mess. She was quivering, tears were streaming down her face and her nose was running. Dark circles of sweat had spread under her arms and stained her white school blouse. There was a wonderful, vulnerable beauty in the sight of a girl broken by abuse, thought the headmistress.


“You’re welcome and you certainly will. That’s the easy part over with. Make sure you’re early for Assembly so you can get ready. Now you may attend to yourself and leave.”


Stephanie pulled out a handkerchief to wipe her face and blow her nose while her other hand slipped under her skirt to rub her thoroughly-beaten cheeks. Their skin was rough and hot under her hand and it hurt to touch and squeeze at first. She stuffed the handkerchief back in her pocket and massaged her bottom with both hands and slowly calmed down.


Stephanie gave a brief nod and made her escape, nearly running from Mrs Crooks’ office. She made her way down the hall, rubbing her sore backside all the while.



Please note: All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.

Please keep in mind the difference between fantasy and reality.
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Tanya sat in the living room and waited with dread for her dad to return
to the room. Just yesterday, things were so much different! Her mom, a
professor, had left for an overseas conference and wouldn't return for a
week. Her dad meanwhile was away on an overnight business trip so the
fourteen year old decided to take advantage of the parental absence.
Taking the extra keys to her mom's Saturn, she decided to go across town to
meet some friends.


Admittedly, Tanya didn't have a license and she had only driven once or
twice before when her dad let her drive a few hundred yards for fun. But
it didn't seem all that hard to drive so Tanya thought it would be a snap.
Unfortunately, backing the car out of the drive in reverse proved to be a
rather difficult exercise. The Saturn's side got swiped against the garage
leaving a nasty scratch on the exterior of the passenger side of the
vehicle. And since it was rather dark out, Tanya had trouble navigating
and ended up running over the mailbox.


The visible damage wasn't terrible. One of the tail-lights was
completely smashed out and the bumper had a few scratches. The real damage
came from the mailbox scraping on the underside of the car which damaged
the exhaust pipe and muffler. Both would need to be replaced.


When her dad came home from his business trip the next day, Tanya
tearfully confessed all she had done. Fixing himself a drink first, her
dad had gone out to inspect the damage. And now she was waiting for him to
return. How bad was it going to be? Tanya knew her dad was generally more
lenient with her than her mom. Hopefully the damage was going to be
fixable, the fourteen year old thought.


She heard the door slam and her father's footsteps. He entered the room
and his expression was not grim, but only thoughtful. Tanya took this as a
good sign.


"So how bad is it Daddy?" she asked hopefully.


"Well," her father said tinkling the ice cubes in his drink, "the
scratch on the side isn't terrible. The busted tail-light isn't hard to
replace. But the underbody of the car is another story. The muffler and
exhaust pipe need to be replaced. But even worse, there's a puncture in
the oil tank. Did you notice the oil all over the garage floor? I'm not
sure if oil tanks can even be replaced. I'm sorry honey, but it's going to
be expensive."


Tanya burst into tears again. "Mom's gonna kill me!" she sobbed.


Her dad sat down next to her. He put his arm around her. "Don't cry
sweetie. It's be all right," he consoled her.


"You know how protective mom is about her car! She's going to blow up!"
Tanya wailed.


Her dad stroked her long blond hair. "I'll tell you what, Tanya. We
can make a deal. I'll tell your mom that it was my fault. But in return
you have to do something for me."


Tanya wiped the tears from her wet face and looked at her dad. "Really?
You'd do that?"


"Of course. But in return you have to do everything I say."


"Do you promise?" her dad prodded her.


"Then it's a deal," her father said, sipping his drink. Tanya waited
for a moment as he continued to sip and swirl his drink.


"Um, so what do you want me to do," she finally asked. Tanya supposed
it would be something like doing chores. Or possibly even doing some
community service. Her dad was big into stuff like that.


"First," her dad said, polishing off his drink, "I think I'm going to
give you a bath. It's been a long time since I've done that. It must be
seven or eight years now? ..." Her dad trailed off.


Tanya was confused. Had she misheard. "Did you say you wanted to give
me a bath?"


"But you can't! I'm fourteen years old!" Tanya complained. This must
be a joke of some sort, she thought. "Why on earth do you want to give me
a bath? I can't let you do that!"


"I'm going to give you a bath, Tanya. That was part of the deal. You
would do everything I say."




Tanya was dumbfounded. She couldn't let her dad see her naked! "But
Daddy..." she protested.


"No buts," her dad cut her off. "Either you do everything I say or your
mom gets to know the truth about the car."


Tanya reflected a moment. If her mom found out, she would likely be
grounded for a least three months. When Tanya was twelve she broke her
retainer which had to be fixed for a cost of $200. Her punishment then was
to be grounded for a month and she had to do chores for the entire summer.
The car would probably cost at least $1000 to fix. Was it worth it then to
let her dad give her a bath?


"Okay," she muttered under her breath.


"Come on then," her dad said taking her by the elbow. He led her
upstairs to the master bathroom in his bedroom where there was a large
clawfoot tub. Tanya stared distractedly at the porcelain and linoleum
around her. Was this just some sort of strange dream? Her dad moved past
her to the tub. The sound of running water filled the room and a mist of
steam rose from the tub.


Her dad turned her around to face him. He began to unbutton her shirt.
Tanya fought the urge to resist and push him away. It felt wrong! Her dad
undid the final button and slid the shirt from her body. Tanya felt the
blush rising in her face. Next her dad undid the zipper of her skirt and
let it drop to the floor around her ankles.


She now stood in front of her dad wearing only panties and a bra.
Suddenly cold she shivered, realizing all too soon that the chill would
make her nipples perk up. Glancing down at her chest, she saw her hardened
nipples poke through the material of her bra. Tanya looked up at her dad's
face and saw her looking at him, with a strange expression she had never
seen on him before.


She reached her hands up to cover her nipples. "Please, Daddy," she
pleaded, "I don't want to do this! Can't we please do something else
instead?" She gazed into his face imploringly but only saw a hardened and
concrete expression.


Reluctantly, she turned around. Her father's hands fumbled with the
clasp of her bra for a second. Tanya held her breath, hoping that he
wouldn't be able to undo it. But he did. She felt the bra straps fall
from her shoulders and the cups loosen around her breasts. Her dad slipped
the bra free from her arms. Topless now, Tanya stood, blushing heavily.
At least she wasn't facing her dad.


Then she felt his fingers slip inside the elastic waistband of her
panties. He started tugging them down. Soon, they too were around her
ankles and she was stepping out of them. Completely naked now, Tanya
didn't dare turn around to face her father. It was bad enough that her
butt was completely exposed to his view.


"Turn around Tanya," he told her. "And keep your hands at your sides."


Her ears burning, Tanya slowly turned around, keeping her eyes glued to
the bathroom floor. She couldn't face her father's eyes. Glancing at the
mirror behind him, she knew what he was seeing. Her breasts were fully
develope
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