2. Disiplinary Measures
The thirty licks I had administered to each of them had been an incredible turn
on for me. But it was over too soon. I wished I had named a higher number,
forty, or even fifty. But at the time, those numbers seemed dangerously high.
But now, having seen how well my daughter's ass and Mackenzie's ass had taken
the whole thirty, I spent all night masturbating and trying to come up with ways
to increase the number of licks they were to recieve. It wouldn't have been
artful - wouldn't have been much of a turn-on - if I had simply announced that
the number of licks was going to be raised. For this to be a true fulfillment of
fantasy, for it to feel truly erotic and cruel, I needed to pretend I had
reasons to raise the swattage.
So I explained my intentions to my daughter the next morning as she was getting
ready for school. I told her to relay them to Mackenzie at school.
It was simple: for each infraction of my rules (which currently consisted simply
of my prescription for their dress when they arrived at my house each afternoon)
the number of licks they were to recieve would be permanently raised by five.
Furthermore, the number of licks for that particular day would be doubled.
Victoria looked down at her cereal bowl and nodded. I made sure to mention, once
again, the threat of being dropped from the cheerleading squad and her loss of
status in front of her friends. That, plus the simple fact that I was, in any
case, her father, and she had an instinct to do as I told her, kept her from
trying to report me to any kinds of authorities.
So the day went by, I came home from work, and eagerly anticipated their arrival
at my front door. Finally, the door opened while I was watching tv. Mackenzie
glared at me. Victoria looked around at the floor and walls. Mackenzie was
dressed in a sufficiently risque manner that day. She was wearing a tight black
one-piece which came possibly a sixth of the way down her thigh. It was
sleeveless, having two skinny straps from which to hang. She really knew what
she was doing - having artfully caused one to fall across her shoulder and down
her arm. The piece was very low-cut, baring her back, the tops of her breasts,
and the top of her ribcage on either side - which made plain the fact that she
was wearing no bra. (This was plain enough already from the visibility of her
hardened nipples.) Amazingly, (where did she find this number, anyway?) there
was a slit on one side, which rose high enough to reveal a lack of underwear on
her part. My penis was becoming large.
Victoria, however, was dressed in jeans and a sweater. Not very slutty.
"How dare you come in here dressed like that, young lady," I said with a smirk.
Victoria put on a pleading expression. "But dad, there was nowhere to change!
Everyone would have seen me!"
"No excuses. You know the rules. From now on, each of you will be recieving 35
licks instead of thirty."
Mackenzie yelled, "me?! Why me?"
"Whenever either of you breaks a rule, it will be five more for both of you. Got
it?"
"Fuck you," was her comment.
To which I replied, "make it forty, then. Or I could call your parents right now
and tell them all about your nasty little habit of smoking and skipping?"
Mackenzie, after a second, said, "shit." This I took to be an affirmative.
"Ok, Mackenzie," I said, "you get to go first. Forty licks, doubled, makes
eighty licks with the belt."
Mackenzie had stopped glaring at me, was now visibly frightened at what I was
about to do to her. She had already begun to tear up, and so had my daughter.
"Strip. Both of you."
Mackenzie slipped her one-piece off. My daughter, now beginning to wail,
extracted herself from her ample clothing. Both were now exposed before me. As
before, I had turned the air conditioning way up. Something about chicks
suffering in the cold really turns me on. Mackenzie's teeth began to chatter as
I stared at my daughter, waiting for her to shut her mouth. "Quit your fucking
crying," I said to her a few times, until finally she was only sobbing
intermittantly.
I motioned for Mackenzie to "assume the position." Reluctantly, she did so.
"Eighty," I said as I reared back with my belt and began to hammer into her ass.
In my mind I had my doubts. I thought eighty might turn out to be too severe,
and I figured I'd probably have to end up letting them both off with only forty
or fifty.
Mackenzie held up remarkably well. I had gotten all the way up to thirty, and
had elicited only quiet grunts of pain. I could see her hands becoming whiter
and whiter, though, as she gripped the couch more and more tightly in an attempt
not to start jumping around like an idiot rubbing her ass.
By the time I got to forty, her butt was waving around and around, trying to
avoid the blows. Heroically, she continued to cling to the couch, not giving her
ass the satisfaction. She still was not crying, but each blow now brought a true
yell of agony.
Finally, at forty five, she broke. She began wailing and weeping, and at forty
six she jumped, grabbed her ass, and fell to the floor. "No, please, no more"
she said, barely intelligible. "I can't take this anymore. I'll do anything,
anything you want! It just hurts to much!" I watched her roll around for a
minute or so, and listened to her cries and my daughter's wailing.
When she had quieted enough to be able to hear me, I said, "Now, you know I
should start over at zero for that and give you another eighty." Mackenzie let
loose with more crying. "But I will make you a deal. I will not start over - I
will continue starting at number forty seven - if you will agree to an
additional five licks each day from now on." Ironically, that added up to forty
five each day - the very number which had broken her on this occasion.
Mackenzie sobbed and sobbed, rubbing her bottom. "If you will not agree to that,
then I will simply start over and give you another eighty licks. Do you
understand?"
Mackenzie began to sit up on her knees. "Can I stand on my knees instead of my
feet?"
I understood - that would put her closer to the ground and make her less likely
to fall over and give up again in her struggles against my belt. "Yes, you may,"
I said.
She swallowed, hard. She then approached the couch once more and hugged its
cushions as hard as she could, grasping the wooden structure underneath with all
of her might.
Her bare ass, quickly reddening and even bluing in a couple of spots, waited my
handling. "Forty seven," I said, bringing the belt down for the final thirty
three swats. She screamed and cried the whole time. Out of a sort of mercy, I
aimed the belt at places I had not yet hit, so that the pain would not be as
severe and would not last as long. I ranged the top part of her ass, and then
ranged with the last twelve the upper half of her thighs. I discovered at that
point that whipping a chick's thighs turns me on even more than whipping her
ass.
Finally, I was finished with Mackenzie. I instructed her to stand up in a place
where I could watch her while I belted my daughter. I told her also to place her
hands behind her neck, so that she couldn't cover up her ass. It's stings were
to be exposed to the open air.
I explained that I did not want her feet to move until I was finished with
Victoria. So while I was spanking my daughter, I watched her friend wiggling her
body, especially her ass, in stinging agony, trying desperately to keep her feet
planted and her hands raised.
My daughter's tanned dark skin didn't redden as much as Mackenzie, but she began
writhing and screaming much sooner than Mackenzie had - around fifteen licks was
all it took. I ranged the licks all across her butt and her thighs.
I would spend some time concentrating on one particular spot for five or ten
licks or so, bringing her to the height of pain, and then move on to another
spot. She knew that dramatics would get her no where, as they had gotten
mackenzie nowhere, and amazingly, stayed put for the whole eighty.
It was over, again, too soon. But I had given them both their eighty, and was
about to cum even though nothing specifically sexual had happened to my penis.
I had Victoria and Mackenzie stand in two corners of the room, arms raised as I
had had Mackenzie do earlier. I told them not to move, and I went into the
bathroom and jacked right off.
I then went back into the living room. I suspect, from some barely percieved
movements, that they had cheated - had rubbed their asses with their hands.
But I let it go.
"Mackenzie, go upstairs and get dressed. Victoria, I need to talk to you."
Mackenzie gathered up her one-piece and ran upstairs crying. Victoria approached
me warily. I had her sit on the couch, and I sat across from her on the chair.
"Now, since you were disobedient today regarding your manner of dress, I am
going to lay down some ground rules as to what is acceptable. Since you felt
there was 'nowhere to change' I am going to have you go to school every day
dressed in the fashion I wish you to come home in. From now on, before you go to
school, I want you to show me what you are wearing, and I will tell you whether
it is acceptable or not."
Realizing the import of my words, that she would now have to go to school
dressed as a slut, she began to protest, "but dad!"
I cut her off. "You chose to disobey me. Now it is my turn to choose how best to
win back your obedience."
I continued, telling her the rules for what she had to wear to school. "You may
not wear more than four pieces of clothing." That would cover a top, a bottom,
and two shoes. "If you choose to wear a top and bottom set, I must be able to
see your belly button when you are standing normally. If you choose to wear a
onepiece, I must be able to see all of your shoulders and the top of your
ribcage." That was inspired by Mackenzie's amazing outfit. "Of course, since you
can only wear up to four pieces, no underwear or socks are to be worn. And your
shoes must be open at the toes, and may not cover more than half of the top of
your foot." I am a foot man, by the way. "Your clothes may not come down farther
than quarter-thigh. And your cleavage must be showing."
Victoria was crying again. "This is sick, dad. Why are you doing this?"
I decided brutal honesty would be fun at that point. "I haven't gotten any since
your mom died, and I am a sick, perverted, frustrated man. When I saw you
blatantly strutting around like a whore when you should have been in school,
that did it for me. I decided I would treat you the way some part of you seems
to want to be treated."
Then I corrected myself. "that's bullshit. I know you don't want to be treated
like this. But your disobedience that day gives me the opportunity to pretend
it's ok to do this shit to you. And that's just the way it's going to be. After
all, I can make your social life a living hell if you don't cooperate. I can get
you suspended from school, kicked off the team. I can take you away from all of
your friends and have you sent to a military school. Or worse.
And plus, it's not like I'm fucking you or anything." (Little did I know what
was to come!)
"Sick, dad," she said.
"Yes, I know," was my reply. "One more rule. Your lips are quite round and
sensuous. I like that - it makes me think of oral sex. So please, from now on,
make sure to select lipstick which accentuates the juiciness yet demureness of
your lips. Now go on upstairs."
"Fine," she said, an interesting and determined look on her face.
I called out to her as she went up the stairs, "I'll take you shopping later
today, if you know what I mean."
