Chapter 6 - wherein Jenny needs some help with her math and gets
something off her chest.
After the worst of the screaming had died down, Nancy again explained to
the apparently somewhat slow "subject" that she had neglected her duties
and therefore the most recent line of fire burning across her bare
teenage bottom didn't count. Again Jenny managed, with a little help,
to assume that correct position and make the required thanks and
request. This time Nancy made her repeat the words to make them "more
thankful and cheerful sounding".
At last came the requisite wiggle of the lovely but oh so ravaged
hindquarters, and again came a whistling, biting stroke from the cane.
As the caning went on and Jenny's suffering increased we all enjoyed the
fact that she seemed less and less able to perform her duties correctly
and thus received more uncounted strokes than counted ones. However,
Nancy made sure that each and every stroke "counted" in the discipline
sense, painting a series of parallel strokes from the top of Jenny's
bottom cleft down to mid thigh. Then Nancy started painting diagonal
stripes, bringing the unfortunate teenager's self-control just about to
an end.
We had all agreed, before this session, that Jenny's caning would in
fact consist of no more than fifty actual strokes. Anyone who has felt
the bite of the judicial cane will realize that our leniency was not
extreme. A fifty stroke caning from such an instrument is an awesome
thing. Dave, as always, was keeping count, although how he managed to
do it while at the same time keeping one hand busy in his pants pocket,
I'm not quite sure. It's certainly possible that he might have missed a
stroke or two in his count.
At any rate, he let Nancy know when that point arrived such that the
number of total strokes left (to reach fifty) was equal to the number of
uncounted strokes left (to reach 25). He signaled that there were ten
strokes left. This meant that poor Jenny had received forty strokes but
had only managed to count fifteen of them! Well, I guess she still
needed some work on her self-discipline, and, admittedly, she WAS doing
better before the diagonal strokes started. By the way, there had
started to appear little flecks of blood on Jenny's red and purple rear
end where diagonal strokes crossed horizontal ones.
Nancy paused and said, "Jenny, Jenny, Jenny. You're not doing a very
good job of counting, are you?"
"Ohhh! Please! It hurts so much¡sob!" came the mournful response.
"Of course it hurts, darling. It's your discipline! My goodness, I
don't think you'll recognize your butt when you get a look at it. But
I'm not finished with it yet."
"Ohh, it hurts, it hurts!"
"Lets not hear anymore of that childish complaining. After all, deary,
it could have been worse. What if I had used the cane HERE, for
example?" Reaching down and softly running her hand along the under
surfaces of Jenny's hanging breasts. These under surfaces were pretty
much bare in spite of the red halter top that still protected her
modesty somewhat. Jenny gasped in fear. Nancy then replace her hand
with the tip of the heavy cane and gave Jenny a few light taps on her
boobs, making them swing softly forward, and making Jenny moan with
humiliation and pain.
"Or HERE?" Nancy now slipped the tip of the cane between Jenny's spread
thighs and tapped her right on the pouch of the g-string that covered
her plump pussy.
"Ahhhh! No! Not there!"
This had the magical effect of bringing Jenny into the required "hamster
in heat" position.
"Now, lets hear your speech, Jenny, dear." Followed by a slightly
sharper tap into the sensitive and defenseless organ.
"Ahhhhhh! No! Uh-h! Thank y-you for the last stroke, Nancy, and
please give me stroke number, uh, uh¡"
"Number sixteen" said Dave, helpfully.
"Ohh! Number sixteen!"
Nancy added, "And now the wiggle?" giving one more, sharp tap. The
wiggle that Jenny gave us then was the most enthusiastic and enchanting
one so far.
Thhhhhwhap! A thunderous stroke tore into Jenny's big bottom, cutting
deeply into already traumatized flesh. Her scream was heartrending.
Nancy "helped" Jenny through the final ten strokes with the special
taps, although towards the end she sometimes had to made them a bit more
than taps, and sometimes had to repeat them to get Jenny to perform her
duties. Before the very last stroke Nancy made Jenny repeat her thanks
and request four times until she accepted it as "polite and sincere
enough". The final stroke was the hardest of them all, and the
resulting scream the loudest.
We let Timmy "examine" Jenny to make sure that she had received enough
punishment, which he did gleefully, and much to Jenny's humiliation and
distress, running his hands and fingers all over, around, and in between
her ravaged cheeks. The intimate pokes that she had objected to before
were repeated and this time were accepted without complaint, although
they did make her squeak a bit.
Timmy announced that he thought that Jenny's bottom had gotten about as
much as it could take, and we had to agree - it looked like a huge plum
pudding, and several little trickles of blood had made their appearance.
However, he felt it important to note that the area between Jenny's
bottom cheeks had been sadly neglected.
In order to stave off any possible infection I soaked a sponge in
rubbing alcohol and thoroughly rubbed Jenny's butt with it. Of course
the alcohol had the side effect of bringing yet a new level of pain to
the beleaguered rear and her screams testified to it.
I patted her dry with a towel and said, "There! Good as new! Well,
almost¡" as I surveyed the pitiful state of Jenny's still writhing,
clenching bottom and listened to her continuous cries and moans.
"Well, what do you think, Jenny?" I asked, "Do you think you'll be
stealing anything again anytime soon?"
"Ohhhhh! No! No! Never again!!"
"Do you think you've learned your lesson?"
"Oh yes! Yes!"
"Well, unfortunately for you, dear, it's for US to decide whether you've
had enough discipline and punishment for a real cure. I'm afraid you've
got a lot more coming to you, Jenny, although you are finished for
today."
"Oh no! Aunt Marge, I can't TAKE any more! My bottom is all cut up and
bleeding - PLEASE - you can't whip me anymore!"
Nancy volunteered with a laugh and an affectionate pat to Jenny's tush,
"Don't worry Jenny, you're bottom won't be getting any more attention
for a while. It's some other parts of your anatomy that you should be
concerned about!"
This little comment seemed to have a great effect. Suddenly Jenny's
piteous weeping stopped and she seemed to be considering Nancy's words
intently.
"O-other parts? W-what do you mean? W-what other p-parts? Oh please,
tell me!"
"Hmm", said Nancy, "I think that's for us to know and for you to find
out!"
Jenny fell silent. This ominous hinting had stopped her agonized
vocalizations, for the time being, although the gyrations of her rear
end continued unabated.
I was at this moment the proudest of mothers. What a skillful, subtle,
and pitiless disciplinarian my talented daughter was becoming! Not only
did she have the physical skills required to inflict as much pain on a
victim as was desired, she had a knack for the psychological subtleties
that are so often neglected in this hurried, modern world. Jenny was
now doomed to two days of uncertain fear. (I say two days because we
were allowing her a day of rest between sessions.) Of course the
challenge of the accomplished disciplinarian, once he or she has thrown
down the gauntlet of inducing "nameless fear" in his/her victim, is to
make sure that the victim's actual experiences meet or exceed his or her
fears. Your readers, Professor, will be the judges of whether we
succeeded in this.
Timmy and Nancy released Jenny from her bonds and Dave and I caught her
as she fell over. She would have pitched right to the floor otherwise.
It turned out that the slightest muscular exertion in the "buttock area"
was all but unbearable for the poor girl, and since this seemed to
preclude normal walking we had to almost carry her up to her room. I'm
a bit ashamed to admit that Dave and Timmy took advantage of this
situation to do a bit of extracurricular groping and pinching. Jenny
was in so much pain and humiliation that she hardly noticed the groping,
but she responded with energetic squeals to any pinches in the "buttock
area".
We dropped her rather unceremoniously on her bed. Unfortunately for her
it was right on her rump that she landed and, with a sharp yell, she
immediately turned over on her tummy, buried her face in her hands, and
wept piteously. We all gazed for a few moments on the enchanting sight
and then left her to her thoughts. That night we watched the TV monitor
but were sorely disappointed. We got no show, other than a continuous
view of Jenny's lovely, colorfully marked, bottom as she dropped off to
exhausted sleep.
As you might imagine, Dave and I had quite a time in bed that night. We
probably only got three or four hours of sleep. It was marvelous as we
excited ourselves over and over with the recollections of our darling
young Jenny's humiliating and painful adventures and anticipation of
what was yet in store for her. I hoped that Timmy and Nancy had a bit
of fun as well, although I DID hope that their fun was solitary. I
guess I'm just a traditional mom!
I was watching on the (normally hidden) kitchen monitor the next morning
when Jenny's alarm clock went off at eight o'clock. She was still lying
on her stomach. It took her a few seconds to come to any kind of
consciousness, and it seemed that the first thing she became aware of
was her sore butt, as she moaned and reached her hand back to rub it.
She was clearly shocked to feel the welts and ridges that had been so
lovingly implanted there, and gasped out loud.
The condition of her bottom seemed, if anything, even more deplorable
than it was when we left her the night before. The tramlines from the
cane and the welts and bruises from the strap seemed to have become more
vivid and three-dimensional. It was quite lovely, I thought!
Carefully, whimpering, Jenny slid herself over the side of the bed and
onto her feet. There was a full length mirror on one wall. She limped
over to it and did her best to examine her very interesting hind
quarters. Jenny was still wearing the red halter top and the black
g-string from the night before, and she looked lovely and graceful as
she stood in front of the mirror. In particular, her bottom showed its
magnificence, both in size and shape, even better now that it was so
vividly and interestingly colored. And, from my point of view, knowing
that it must be aching and burning added quite a bit to my enjoyment of
the scene. We had certainly done a thorough job on her tush!
Jenny limped stiffly to the dresser drawer where she had found her
clothes for the day before and opened it. Sure enough, there were her
clothes for this day. She burst into tears on seeing them, since they
were nothing more than a repeat of what she was wearing right then,
except that the halter top was purple with red polka dots and the
g-string was red instead of black. Also in the drawer was a note from
me that she had better be in the kitchen for breakfast by 8:30, fully
showered and made up, or suffer additional penalties.
Nancy walked into the kitchen just then and, after sharing a
conspiratorial smile, we watched in silence as Jenny disrobed. Once
again we were impressed with the size and firmness, and yet delicacy, of
her breasts. Also impressive was the size of her nipples - as big
around as a mans thumb and at least half an inch long. They were a
lovely reddish brown. We were impressed as well with the hairiness and
plumpness of her cunt as she shed yesterdays g-string.
As she went into the bathroom to shower I switched the monitor to the
shower camera. Dave and Timmy arrived and we all watched Jenny's
shower. She carefully kept the spray off of her bottom and winced
painfully when she passed the washcloth over it. The water bounce
happily off of the tops of her boobs as she soaped down her body and
then rinsed off.
Jenny toweled down and donned her "new" clothes. She discovered to her
dismay that the new halter top was tighter and smaller than the one from
the day before. In fact, her boobs were spilling out on all sides and
her aureoles were just visible on top.
When she walked stiffly into the kitchen, Timmy greeted her by saying,
"Good morning, hamster girl!" A terrific blush instantly covered
Jenny's cheeks as we all laughed.
"Show us your bottom, Jenny." said Nancy. Wonderfully, Jenny obeyed,
although not without shedding a few hot tears. She turned her back to
us and hung her head while we feasted our eyes on the red, purple and
yellow canvas that was her bottom. The bruises and welts extended from
the top of her crack almost down to her knees, although it was her
buttocks that had clearly sustained the worst damage.
Nancy wasn't through yet. "Bend over, Jenny, that's right. Put your
hands on your knees, and arch your back so your bottom sticks out."
Jenny obeyed, sobbing pitifully, and her tightly bent, well-spread
bottom was on display, much to her deep embarrassment I'm sure. Her
hanging breasts seemed to be on the verge of spilling right out of the
yellow and red halter top. The red g-string was very attractive
nestling between her cheeks and legs.
"Now, let's have that hamster wiggle, girl." Nancy ordered, with a grin.
Jenny obeyed, and what a lovely wiggle it was!
I said, "Good girl, Jenny. Now, get up. Sit here." I pointed to a new
item of furniture, at least new to Jenny. It was a high chair!
She stared at the chair, and then, looking pleadingly at me, she said,
"Oh, Aunt Marge, I really c-can't sit d-down. It hurts too much."
"I don't believe I asked your opinion of the matter, Jenny. My dear
girl, you are acquiring extra penalties at a frightening rate through
your questioning of direct orders. I hope you realize that, whatever
you experienced yesterday evening, it will be nothing compared to the
penalties you will get for disobedience."
It was amusing to all but Jenny as she attempted to squeeze her sore
bottom into the seat of the high chair. Wincing and moaning, she
managed it somehow. Then there was an added surprise. The seat of the
chair was covered with the previously mentioned coconut matting. She
gasped in pain and attempted to rise up from the high chair. This
caused the sides of her large bottom to scrape roughly against the sides
of the chair and she squealed again in pain and sat back down. All she
could do was endure her discomfort.
I rose, walked behind Jenny as she eyed me fearfully, and proceeded to
tie her hands behind her back. "Oh, what are you going to do to me?"
she whimpered.
"Don't worry, Jenny, Uncle Dave is going to feed you your oatmeal.
Nancy brought out a large, steaming bowl of oatmeal and set it down in
front of Jenny. Dave slid his chair over next to her and proceeded to
spoon large spoonfuls of the mush into Jenny's reluctant mouth. Alas,
Dave couldn't seem to keep from spilling a fairly large amount onto the
tops of Jenny's boobs, which seemed to distress her quite a bit because
the stuff was pretty hot. She complained that it was burning her, and
Dave periodically obliged, using a wash cloth to lovingly clean the
surfaces of her tits. It was fun to observe the conflict between her
extreme reluctance to have Uncle Dave handling her virgin boobs so
matter-of-factly and her strong desire to get the hot oatmeal off of the
same items, which were obviously quite sensitive. In addition to the
torment of her breasts, Jenny could be seen to wince and gasp whenever
her struggles would cause her bottom to shift against the cruel coconut
matting.
Dave seemed to take special care in his "cleanup" duties, rubbing the
skin of Jenny's breasts quite a bit more than seemed strictly necessary,
making sure that he cleaned all of the oatmeal out from between the
globes and from the sensitive area near her nipples. Those nipples, by
the way, which we have seen to be very large, were quite apparent
through the thin halter top. Oddly enough, even though Dave seemed
meticulously neat when cleaning up, he seemed quite careless during the
spooning, dropping dollop after dollop of the steaming mush on the fair
skin.
After Jenny had finished her "breakfast", I informed her that her next
session would be tomorrow night and that she was getting a break for one
day. However, she was still required to obey ALL orders given either by
Dave or me, and CERTAIN orders given by Timmy or Nancy. Basically she
had to go wherever, in the house, they told her too, and she had to
adopt the hamster posture whenever they desired. They were allowed to
pinch her bottom, and also to spank her, but only lightly, so as to not
retard the healing process. I explained that we wanted her bottom to be
more or less healed by three days from today, when she would be getting
her third session.
Needless to say, Jenny spent quite a lot of time in the hamster position
that day, mostly in the TV room so the kids could torment her during the
commercials. They spanked her quite a bit, and, even though they DID do
it lightly, it seemed to hurt her almost to the point that she couldn't
bear it. They pinched and goosed her a bit as well, which seemed to
humiliate her even more than it hurt her physically. From the kitchen I
was often able to tell that a commercial had come on by the squeals and
cries as my diabolical children had their fun with Jenny.
Later in the afternoon, Timmy went out to play with friends, and Jenny
was left alone with Nancy. I overheard the following conversation.
Jenny said, "Nancy?"
"Yes, Jenny, dear?"
"W-what are they, y-you, going to do to me tomorrow?"
"Well, I'd like to tell you, Jenny, but I'm under strict orders to keep
my mouth shut, except for the fact that you don't need to worry about
your poor bottom. We won't be tormenting it any tomorrow night. So
don't worry your pretty little head about THAT. There, do you feel
better now?"
"B-but, Nancy, it's not so much my b-bottom that I'm worried about. I'm
worried about what you said - that you'll be punishing other parts of my
body. Please, tell me - what parts are you going to punish?"
"Now, now, Jenny, if I told you, it would only give you more to worry
about, and it wouldn't change anything - you'll get your punishment
either way. Believe me, you're better off not knowing."
Jenny whispered softly, "Nancy, you, th-they, wouldn't punish my
b-b-breasts, would they?"
Nancy chuckled, "Jenny, Jenny, if I said yes or no, then that would be
giving you just the information that I'm not supposed to give you. By
the way, are you worried about us punishing your breasts?"
"Y-yes - they're very s-senstitive." Nancy whimpered.
"So? I mean, what's your point? That would be all the more reason to
punish them, wouldn't it? Your not supposed to LIKE being punished,
silly."
"Ohhh! You ARE going to hurt my breasts!"
"Now don't jump to conclusions, Jenny. I said no such thing. I just
said that you needn't worry about your precious little bottom. After
all, there's a lot more to your body than just your breasts, although I
admit they take up a lot of room! I'll bet there are even some parts of
your body that you'd hate to have punished even worse than your big
boobies."
Jenny's jaw dropped as she pondered this.
Jenny slept on her belly again that night, and she didn't seem to be in
the mood for masturbation either. She had clearly been in serious
discomfort all day, and had a very decided limp to her gait. Indeed,
she was a very sore-bottomed young lady. We had made her sit in the
high-chair of torture again for dinner and it seemed to cause her as
much discomfort as it had that morning.
By the next morning Jenny's bottom was clearly improved, a tribute to
the wonderful healing powers of youth. The welts and ridges had largely
receded and the overall redness had diminished a bit. However, the
bruises had deepened in color and the poor girl was still experiencing
quite a bit of soreness in the "buttock area". She still limped
slightly and her state of mind hadn't seemed to improve at all. She
seemed preoccupied, even a bit depressed - most likely wondering about
her upcoming ordeal. At breakfast we took pity on her and let her feed
herself her oatmeal, although she still had to sit in the high-chair.
It still hurt her to sit on it, but not as much as the day before. Once
again she was wearing what she must have begun to think of as her
uniform - halter top and g-string. This time the halter top was green
and the g-string was a lacy white.
For the rest of the day we pretty much left Jenny alone, partly out of
pity, and partly so as not to distract her from the serious worrying
that she must have been up to! We had an early dinner, during which
Jenny touched not a bite. Then we let a trembling and pale Jenny lead
us into the punishment room, that is, the workshop.
That evening's session was to be Nancy's. She had worked hard and
creatively in preparation, although it was certainly also true that we
had all helped, so it was still a family endeavor wherein Nancy would
take the lead. Your readers may be guessing now, based on Nancy's
expressed interest, that Jenny's breasts were to be the focus for the
evening. Well, if so, they are correct!
There has been much written on the punishment of teenage girls' bottoms,
but very little on the punishment of their breasts. Why is this?
Should young miscreants learn lessons only through one "entry point"?
Why not make use of all available means of driving home a much needed
lesson? And indeed, in the case of a girl who is a well-developed as
Jenny, the breasts provide a very attractive and useful supplement to
the bottom, in our opinion.
Make no mistake, we firmly believe in the bottom as the "fundamental"
area of correction. It offers so many advantages. For example, the
buttocks can absorb much more physical shock than any other part of the
body, yet they are very sensitive as well. In addition, the position
adopted by the recipient of a bottom whipping is a classic submissive
position and thus is inherently humiliating.
However, one must admit that variety in discipline is a very valuable
quality. New and as yet unexperienced types of punishment can be more
frightening and confusing than ones that the culprit is used to.
What advantages do the breasts offer the disciplinarian? First, they
are wonderfully sensitive; thus more subtle and varied means can be
employed while causing as much discomfort as a vigorous thrashing of the
buttocks might cause. Second, the culprit's face can be observed very
easily for added enjoyment. Third, the culprit can see much that is
going on - a skillful practitioner can make great use of this. In
addition, breasts like Jenny's offer a GREAT DEAL of surface area on
which to work and since they are young a firm, they can withstand quite
a bit of vigor in application. With someone as shy and modest as Jenny
there is of course the tremendous embarrassment of yet another private
body part unveiled and at the mercy of tormentors.
The family all sat down in the comfortable arm chairs and I ordered
Jenny to stand at attention in front of us. Her upper lip was quivering
and her face was pale.
Nancy said, "OK, Jenny, you've probably guessed that this was coming.
Well, whether you have or not, here goes. Remove your halter top."
Jenny remained still, but tears immediately started flowing from her
beautiful brown eyes. She started to shake her head, "N-no, Nancy,
p-please - I j-just can't!"
"So you don't want to show us your big boobies? After all you're
showing most of them already! Remember, Jenny, your disobedience is
going to cost you big time in special penalties. If I were you I'd do
what I was told, and be quick about it, deary."
Jenny started crying in earnest now as she slowly reached both hand
behind her neck to untie the top strap. This action had the satisfying
side effect of bringing her boobs up into even more prominence than
usual, with the large nipples straining at the fabric of the halter top.
Dave and Timmy were fascinated. The top strap was untied and the two
ends fell uselessly forward. Jenny slowly, agonizingly, reached around
her back to the clasp of the back strap. But she seemed to lack the
will to proceed. Putting her hands together in prayerfulness, she
begged, "I CAN'T take it off in front of Timmy and Uncle Dave! Please,
Nancy, please! I just CAN'T!"
Nancy said calmly, "Timmy, Dave, will you help me, please?" and all
three rose from their chairs and approached that panicked girl. Jenny
bolted, first running to the door, and then, after quickly realizing it
was locked, running anywhere to escape her pursuers. As she ran, her
breasts bounced up and down and sideways and the partially loosened
halter top seemed in imminent danger of exposing that which she so
desperately wanted to keep hidden.
Finally they trapped her in a corner. She struggled furiously, but
uselessly, and was dragged to the center of the room. While Dave and
Nancy held her, Timmy placed leather cuffs on her wrists and it was then
short work to attach her wrists to straps hanging from pulleys in the
ceiling. As she shrieked in fear and despair, Dave pushed one of the
control buttons and the straps, as well as Jenny, were pulled upward.
Dave stopped the mechanism when Jenny's heels were just off the floor.
Jenny did her best to balance on the balls of her feet as she
unwillingly showed off her stretched body, including her well-shaven
armpits. The halter top sagged dangerously. The g-string, her only
other garment, seemed quite tiny and inadequate with her body so
stretched, although it still DID JUST protect her most private parts
from immodest exposure.
"Now, let's take care of that halter top." Nancy remarked, as she
walked behind a terrified Jenny.
Jenny's pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears, and three seconds later the
skimpy garment was dangling from Nancy's triumphant hand and Jenny's
magnificent breasts were completely bare. I use the term "magnificent"
without exaggeration. These were truly wonderful breasts. They were
quite large, yet not droopy in the least. Their curves, while grand,
were still graceful and delicate. The nipples were large and
protruding, yet looked to be very sensitive and vulnerable, as did the
pail skin of the rest of the surfaces. The aureoles were proportional
in size to the rest, and shared the reddish brown hue of her nipples.
Jenny seemed to be in a frenzy of mortification and embarrassment. It
seemed to be intolerable to her that she was displaying her bare breasts
to us. Most likely, it was the presence of Dave and Timmy that
contributed the most to this feeling. She kept exclaiming, "Oh! Oh!
Please, cover me! Oh, sob! Sob!" dripping hot tears onto her now naked
breasts.
The pitiless Nancy threw the now useless halter-top into a corner of the
room and then walked around to face the newly bared Jenny. "What a fine
set you've got!" she said as both hands reached out, each to one of the
fine boobies in front of her. While Jenny moaned and whined, Nancy let
her hands rove all over the massive hemispheres.
"Let's try a pinch." She said, and squeezed hard with thumb and
forefinger a fold of flesh from the inner surface of Jenny's left
breast.
"Owwww! Oh, that hurts!" Jenny yelled and jerked.
