A Cure For Kleptomania

A Cure For Kleptomania (Letter From a Strict Mom	#3)
Copyright 1997 - Max Smart - all rights reserved.


!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Please be warned.  The following story section describes the corporal 
punishment of a teenager.  It is purely fiction and strictly for fantasy 
purposes.  Any resemblance to any actual people or situations is 
completely coincidental.  Since the activities described are 
non-consensual they should NOT, in my opinion, take place in real life, 
and would in fact be illegal and, as far as I'm concerned, immoral.

However, some people, including me, enjoy fantasizing about such things.

For spanking fans, please also be warned that, while there is plenty of 
spanking here, there is more.  I won't say more than that because I like 
to keep my readers in a bit of suspense.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 1 - wherein we learn of Jenny's problem and its proposed cure, 
and Jenny is asked an embarrassing question. 

Dear readers of "Discipline Quarterly".  We are pleased to present 
another letter from our "Strict Mom", wherein she relates a long tail of 
exemplary discipline.  There is in it much wonderful information and 
advice for the "strict minded" parent.  Enjoy!


Dear Professor,

Well, here I am again, with another story to relate that I hope your 
readers will find both enjoyable and informative.  I'm sure that you 
will remember me as the "Strict" mom of Nancy and Timmy, and that you 
will remember my two previous letters describing two different 
"treatments" that my husband Dave, Timmy and I applied to Nancy.  As a 
follow up, I can happily report that Nancy has improved both her 
behavior (as a result of her first session, involving an old-fashioned 
encounter between Nancy's naked bottom and a number of well applied 
birch rods) and her grades (as a result of her second session, involving 
the wonderful "Seat of Learning" that Dave invented.)

It is true that Dave and I were very happy to see Nancy become a better 
behaved, more studious girl.  Yet I must confess something.  Dave and I 
had enjoyed disciplining Nancy to such a degree that we found ourselves 
secretly wishing that she would again do something to merit a serious 
training session.  Through our experience with Nancy we learned that we 
are natural disciplinarians.  While we loved the beneficial results of 
discipline, we loved even more the actual discipline itself.  To us, 
there was nothing like the joy of watching a young culprit's frightened 
and humiliated looks as she (or he) is forced to disrobe.  We love 
nothing better than to take every measure to increase her (or his) 
humiliation, embarrassment, and fear and we make sure to watch her (or 
his) facial expressions closely to see evidence of the emotions she (or 
he) is experiencing.

In addition to this is the wonderful sight of a bared young bottom, or 
other sensitive area, served up for sacrifice; the wonderful sound of 
the squeals, yells, and screams, as we carefully and lovingly inflict 
pain of various types and intensities; the energetic struggles against 
restraints as the culprit finds that the pain is simply too much to bear 
(but which must be born, nevertheless); and the fascinating changes in 
appearance of the "area of operations" as the birch, cane, or other 
implement does its beneficial work.

In spite of our desires, we would never impose a punishment that wasn't 
deserved or needed.  Since Nancy was being a good girl; it would not be 
right to invent reasons to punish her, tempting though that may be.  
Dave and I were forced to resolve ourselves to wait for slippage in 
behavior on the part of Nancy, or perhaps an outbreak of previously 
unseen bad behavior from Timmy.

In addition to becoming a good girl, I noticed another change in Nancy.  
She seemed to have become very interested in being on the OTHER side of 
the discipline equation.  A couple of times she asked me if she would be 
allowed to participate in any punishments that Timmy might earn.  Once 
she remarked that she had heard of a friend of hers getting the cane, 
and she expressed the wish that she had been allowed to witness it and 
even to help administer it.

I welcomed this awakening in Nancy, since it made me feel that our 
mother/daughter bond could be strengthened through a "shared interest".  
I assured her that she would be allowed to be an active participant in 
case Timmy ever required discipline, but I cautioned her not to get her 
hopes up too high, since Timmy had as yet showed no signs of straying 
down dangerous paths.

"Oh, mom, I wish there was somebody that we could punish!" she lamented 
charmingly, and I felt bad that I couldn't help her satisfy her desires.

It was the very next day that my sister Beth called me on the phone.

"Hello, Beth!  What's up?"

"Oh, Marge, something terrible!"

"What?  Beth, tell me."

"It's Jenny."

"What?  Is she hurt?  What is it?"

"No, no, she's not hurt, and everyone is OK, physically, that is.  
Marge, Jenny has been stealing things, apparently quite a lot of things, 
and the way we found out was that she got caught shoplifting."

"That's incredible, Beth.  Not Jenny."  Not Jenny, indeed.  Such a 
well-behaved, well-mannered girl.  It truly seemed impossible.

"Yes, Marge, our wonderful, good Jenny.  The child psychologist says she 
has kleptomania, and she's not sure what can be done about it, short of 
long term therapy.  But we can't wait a long time, Marge!  Jenny needs 
help right away, otherwise she'll get herself in real trouble and 
disgrace the family.  We searched her room and found quite a few 
valuable items that had been missing from our house and from neighbors."

"Gosh, Beth, I don't know what to say."  And I didn't.  But a germ of an 
idea was forming in my mind.  But how could I suggest what I had in mind 
to Beth - a mother who would never lay a finger on her darling children?  
To my amazement, it was Beth that initiated the subject.

"Marge, I know that you were able to bring Nancy under control.  I mean, 
the improvement in her behavior and grades in the last six months has 
been amazing.  I know that you did something with her, maybe a bit 
drastic, but it seems to have worked.  Oh, Marge, do you think you might 
be able to help Jenny?"

I smiled to myself as I said, "You know Beth, we just might be able to 
help, but you have to agree to give me free rein."

Marge hesitated, "Well I don't...Oh, yes, Beth, certainly!  Do whatever 
it takes to help our Jenny!"

I was truly shocked to hear about Jenny's recent behavior.  It was the 
last thing anybody would expect.  Jenny was 14 years old, about two 
years younger than her cousin, my daughter Nancy.  Nancy and Jenny had 
been great friends up until they reached ages 13 and 11.  At that time 
Nancy was well into puberty and already pretty worldly - and trying her 
best to increase her worldliness.  Really, Nancy was a pretty normal 
teenage girl for this day and age.  In fact, as far as I new, she might 
still have been a virgin, which would be somewhat unusual.  She says she 
is, but I'm quite sure she's gotten to at least third base on a regular 
basis.  At any rate she has quite a vocabulary of words sure to shock 
parents.

Jenny, however, got religion.  Where she got it from is a mystery.  Her 
mother, Beth, was never more religious than I was - we both more or less 
accepted our Catholic faith without paying a lot of attention to it.  
Jenny, around age ten, began to get very serious.  She started going to 
church every morning and putting up holy pictures in her room.  As she 
went through puberty it only seemed to intensify.  She wore drab, 
loose-fitting blouses and long skirts, attempting to hide her budding 
young woman's body.

Now the other side of the picture was that her body was pretty hard to 
hide.  She had developed quite a large set of breasts and a bottom to go 
with them, although she was not fat in the least.  But instead of adding 
to her happiness and sense of confidence, Jenny's body only seemed to 
make her self-conscious.  It made boys notice her, but she didn't appear 
to want to be noticed by them.  I had formed the idea that Jenny was 
trying desperately to deny her own sexuality, that she perhaps had a 
very normal or even above normal interest in sex and boys, but that it 
scared her and also seemed wrong to her, based on her strong 
religiosity.  A very interesting case!

Who knows but that Jenny's kleptomania was a strange way of release for 
her tempestuous inner feelings?  Perhaps the method of treatment that we 
would give her for her kleptomania might also have some benefit in 
helping Jenny resolve her inner sexual conflicts?

When I related the phone call from Beth to my husband Dave, I found him 
to be quite enthusiastic and excited.  This wasn't much of a surprise to 
me.  I was very aware that Dave had been lusting after his young niece 
ever since she started sprouting breasts, and I watched his interest 
grow as THEY (as well as her hips) grew.  And Dave wasn't alone.  Timmy 
seemed to have had a crush on his cousin for a couple of years.  It 
excited me to think of both of my men getting a chance to exercise their 
"disciplinary" instincts on such a luscious morsel as young Jenny.

Of course Nancy's developing interest in the possibilities of discipline 
was likely to be very stimulated and rewarded by Jenny's lessons.  As 
for myself, I have to admit that my instincts for applying corporal 
punishment had definitely come out of my mental closet since we first 
laid Nancy's bottom bare to the twigs.  And any true disciplinarian 
knows that there is nothing quite like a new, naive victim on whom to 
operate.

Here is how my conversation with my husband went, once I had brought him 
up to date on the contents of my phone conversation with Beth.

"Well, darling, do you think we might be able to help out my sister, and 
enact a cure on her beautiful daughter?" I asked him.

Dave had acquired a faraway look in his eye.  "Well, I think we might be 
just the people to cure Jenny.  And I...I think we might find it an 
enjoyable task."

"I'm quite sure YOU would." I replied pointedly, "And, I must be honest, 
I confess that I would be very curious to see how the little miss priss 
might act under some of the same sort of treatment that we've dealt out 
to Nancy."

Dave hesitated, "Do you mean to say that we would treat Jenny the same 
way we treated Nancy?  I doubt Beth would permit that."  and Dave got a 
somewhat mournful look on his face.

"Oh, don't you worry.  She'll permit just about anything.  She's 
desperate.  I already told her that she must give us free rein and she 
readily agreed." I answered with a smile, "I'm afraid Jenny will have to 
put up with about anything we feel is good for her."

This thought seemed to make Dave very happy.  "Hmmm," he mused, "I would 
think it might take a very great deal of 'treatment' to cure a 
full-blown case of kleptomania.  Certainly more than she could handle in 
one session."

"I'm way ahead of you there, Dave.  There's five weeks left of summer 
vacation.  Beth has agreed that Jenny will stay with us for two weeks 
starting two weeks from today.  That will give Jenny a week back home, 
after her ¡®treatment', before she has to return to school.  Beth thought 
Jenny might need the week to meditate and absorb the lessons we'll be 
giving her.  I have no doubt that there is some truth to that, but I 
didn't mention to Beth that Jenny will also need a good week just to 
recover physically from her experience.  What do you think. Dave?  Will 
two weeks be enough time?"

"I should think so!"  Dave responded enthusiastically.  "We could give 
her a few days free just to see if she steals anything.  In which case 
especially stern measures would be called for.  We could give her her 
punishments in three or four sessions with a day or two in between to 
let her recover as well as to let her worry about what was next.  Too 
bad we have to wait two weeks, though!"

"Yes, but look at the bright side.  In two weeks we can plan our 
strategies and make any preparations that might be necessary.  You'll 
have time to exercise your diabolical inventiveness.  Also, Dave, don't 
you think it would be a good idea to include Timmy and Nancy in the fun, 
uh, that is, effort?"

"Yeah!"  Dave laughed, "It will be a great exercise in family 
togetherness.  I know for sure that Timmy would very much enjoy 
tormenting, that is, helping, his lovely older cousin."

"As would you!  Am I right?"

"Yes, I must admit, there have been a number of times that I've pictured 
that voluptuous young body upended over the saw-horse and squirming 
under the ministrations of various implements.  Her body seems to be 
quite a canvas on which to exercise our art."  Dave answered, "But you, 
my dear, how about you."

"Yes,"  I said dreamily, "I've had similar thoughts - I admit it too!"

"Hmmm." said Dave, "I'm beginning to think that Jenny is going to have 
quite a memorable time with us.  I wonder if she'll be able to stand up 
to it?"

"Oh, I think so.  She's a very strong young lady.  She won't like it 
very much but she'll be able to endure it quite well."

Dave and I let Nancy and Timmy in on our project the next morning at 
breakfast.  We thought it would be nice to give them some exciting news 
to help them through their day at school.

Timmy spoke up right away, "Really, Mom?  We're going to get to give it 
to Jenny?  Will we get to strip her?  Completely naked?  Oh, can I do 
it?  Will we birch her?  Oh, boy, I can hardly wait!  Oh, Mom, Dad...two 
weeks is too long!  Let's start today!"

Nancy had a dreamy look on her face as we all endured Timmy's boisterous 
tirade.  Then she said, "She'll be with us for a two whole weeks?"

"Yes, dear."  I answered, "Do you think that's long enough?"

"Sure, but I wonder if her bottom will last for a two whole weeks of 
what we might do to it..." Nancy continued.

Dave replied thoughtfully, "Well, of course Jenny has quite a large, 
firm bottom, even larger than yours, Nancy (Nancy blushed).  This 
provides both a great deal of surface area for us to work on as well as 
an ability to withstand a great deal of shock.  I have a feeling it will 
take us a while to really wear it out.  Plus, we'll be using a variety 
of implements which will abuse her bottom in different ways.  But don't 
worry, Nancy; we are certainly planning on making use of more areas of 
Jenny's body than just her bottom.  Variety is the spice of discipline 
as well as of life."

I was curious as to what was going on in my daughter's mind.  "Tell us, 
Nancy dear, did you have a particular part of Jenny's body that you 
would like to see disciplined?"

Nancy blushed and mumbled, "Oh, no...I...was just concerned for her 
b-bottom, I guess..."

"Come on, Nancy, you can tell us!" I prompted.

Nancy blushed again.  "I...I guess I'd like to p-punish her big 
b-breasts - but I'm sure we couldn't do that, huh?"

I noticed both Dave's and Timmy's eyes gain an extra sparkle at this.  
One had to admit that Jenny's boobs were a most noticeable and 
impressive attribute.  It was easy for me to understand the combination 
of resentment and envy that led Nancy to focus on Jenny's breasts.  I 
shared the feeling.  And I could imagine the male lust that fueled Dave 
and Timmy's interest.

I said, "Why of course we can, Nancy.  Not only can we, we will.  How 
about this - since you have a special interest in this area, why don't 
we put you in charge of Jenny's bosom?  Think about it and see if you 
can devise some special treats for it that would make you happy and that 
would help her learn a valuable lesson?"

Nancy seemed very pleased.  "OK, Mom.  I will, but with your and Daddy's 
help, OK?"

"What about me?"  cried Timmy.

"Hmm" I answered, "Timmy, why don't you think about how to punish any 
OTHER part of Jenny that you like, and leave her breasts to Nancy, since 
that's her special interest?"

"Oh, boy!  OK, Mom!  Man, oh, man, is she going to get it!"  was Timmy's 
exultant response.  I had a suspicion as to which part of Jenny's body 
Timmy might be especially interested in.

The next two weeks were full of activity, planning, and anticipation.  
Dave spent a lot of time in his workshop.  Timmy and Nancy both 
consulted with Dave, and Nancy and I had some very enjoyable 
mother-daughter conversations.  Often the four of us would get together 
and compare notes.  As the time for Jenny's arrival got nearer our 
excitement grew.  Sex with Dave became simply wonderful as we discussed 
and refined our plans before and during each session.

One evening Nancy was helping me wash the dishes.  She said, "Mom, I'm 
sure looking forward to punishing and disciplining Jenny."

"So am I, dear."

"One thing that makes me really excited, Mom, is thinking of Jenny 
having to be naked in front of all of us, particularly Daddy and Timmy, 
since they're male, and all.  'Cause, like, Jenny's so SHY and MODEST.  
She hates to hear anyone even talk about body parts or sex and she's 
always wearing those long skirts and high collars.  She's going to be SO 
embarrassed, isn't she, Mom?"

"I suspect she will be, dear.  Does that make you glad?"

"Oh, yes, Mom!  I can hardly wait to see Miss Goody Two-Shoes have to 
show everything she's got to Daddy and Timmy - how scrumptious!  And I 
can't imagine how she'll bear it, she's so modest." Nancy said with a 
big grin, "And then, on top of it all, to have her get the thrashing and 
punishment she deserves - gosh, sometimes I think I must be dreaming!"

After a bit, Nancy continued, "Mom, what must Jenny be thinking now?  
Does she know what's going to happen to her?"

"No, dear.  We told her mom to tell her that she would be spending a 
couple of weeks with us and that we would be helping her to get over her 
kleptomania.  Aunt Beth tells me that Jenny feels terrible about the 
things she's done, and wants desperately to be able to stop.  According 
to Aunt Beth, your cousin is very nervous about her upcoming visit, but 
mostly because she's ashamed that we know about the trouble she's gotten 
herself into.  So you can be sure, Nancy, that whatever occurs to Jenny 
when she's here will come as a complete surprise to her.  Isn't that 
nice?"

"Cool, mom!  I love surprises, especially when it's not me that's 
getting surprised."

Dave kept me informed as to his and the children's confabs.  Timmy and 
Nancy didn't have trouble coming up with ideas for tormenting their 
pretty cousin, but Dave had to work with them quite a lot to weed out 
those ideas that were either way too severe or too impractical, and to 
refine the others into workable schemes.  I have to admit I was both 
impressed and slightly horrified at the cruelty of my children's 
imaginations.  It helped for me to remember that this entire effort was 
ultimately for Jenny's own good, even if we were going to enjoy it as 
much as possible!

Beth dropped by one afternoon and had a cup of coffee with me in our 
kitchen.  She had learned a new detail or two about Jenny's exploits.  
It seems that Jenny had on a few occasions stuffed the items she was 
stealing down her blouse between her breasts or down the front or back 
of her panties.  The panties method worked because she wore loose 
fitting skirts.  As a matter of fact, when she was arrested the cops 
found items of jewelry between her breasts, between the cheeks of her 
bottom, and in the crotch of her panties.  I took some pleasure in 
imagining the scene of Jenny's strip search.  It must have been 
priceless!  At any rate, Jenny had made use of her breasts and her other 
private parts to help her in her crimes.  I was very interested to hear 
this, as you might imagine.  After all, it started me thinking about 
ways to make Jenny's punishments fit her crimes.

I also got Beth to assure me that Jenny would not be getting her period 
during her time with us.  Mothers have a way of knowing things like this 
about their daughters, even shy, modest daughters like Jenny.

Beth blushed then and said, "Marge, I-I was wondering if I might be 
allowed to watch some of what you do to, uh, that is, with Jenny.  It 
might help me to keep her in line after she comes home."

I was surprised and delighted!  Maybe she shared the sadistic gene?  
"Well, Beth, I think it would be best if you WEREN'T present during 
Jenny's treatments.  Sometimes a parent can get too tender hearted for 
their child's own good.  But, I tell you what, how would you like to 
come over afterwards and watch some selected parts on video?"

Beth seemed quite happy with this offer.

Finally the day came for Jenny's arrival.  It was Monday afternoon.  Her 
mother drove her over, and we all sat together in the living room.  
Jenny sipped nervously at a Coke and mostly kept her eyes lowered.  
Timmy and Nancy seemed to be beside themselves with excitement and had a 
hard time holding down their fidgeting.  Dave and I managed to maintain 
an appearance of welcome, concern, and quiet authority.

Beth said, "Now, Jenny, you are to obey your Aunt Marge and Uncle Dave - 
no matter what they tell you.  I understand that they have some unusual 
methods but they have clearly worked on your cousin (Nancy gave the 
requisite blush)."

"Yes, Jenny" I said, "I don't know what your mother has told you, but 
you are here for a very serious purpose.  What you have done is 
extremely shameful and we must take whatever steps that are necessary to 
see to it that you never do it again.  Do you agree, Jenny, that what 
you have done is very shameful?  Jenny?"

"Uh, y-yes, ma'am." she mumbled in her Coke.

Jenny was even more subdued than normal, it seemed to me, and perhaps 
even more drably and modestly dressed than normal, if that were 
possible.  Her long, lustrous black hair was done up in a tight bun, in 
her typical style.  She wore no makeup, no jewelry.  She wore a loose, 
dark brown sweater over a white shirt that was buttoned all the way up, 
complemented by a long pleated brown skirt.  It was hard to decide if 
she looked more like a British schoolgirl or like a nun.  A very CURVY 
schoolgirl or nun.

Yet even so her beauty showed through.  She couldn't hide her high 
cheekbones, the full, pouty, bee-stung lips, her dark brown eyes with 
their long lashes.  And even her loose sweater couldn't help but hint at 
its impressive contents.  I felt a sense of exhilaration at the degree 
to which this young, innocent beauty was coming under our power.  Jenny 
was truly ours to do with as we liked for two weeks.

Actually that wasn't completely true.  Whatever we did with the dear 
girl, it had to be effective.  We really needed to cure her of her 
kleptomania in order to maintain our credibility.  In fact, if we were 
able to cure her other parents might turn to us with THEIR problem 
daughters or sons, thus inadvertently supplying us fodder for our 
new-found hobby.  Our future indeed seemed to turn on how successful we 
were with Jenny.  This fact didn't bode well for Jenny.

Jenny's mother was carrying a small cardboard box.  She rested it on her 
lap.

"As you requested, Marge, I've brought almost all of the things that 
Jenny has stolen.  Instead of returning them, we paid the stores or 
asked offended families for the loan of their stolen goods for a short 
time.  We have been able to retain almost everything.  I hope they 
help."

Jenny moaned softly with embarrassment, keeping her eyes down.

"Well," I said, "let's have a look."

Beth took all of the items out of the box and set them on our coffee 
table.  There were mostly items of jewelry, such as earrings and 
bracelets and necklaces.  There was a very cute jewel encrusted little 
wind-up alarm clock.  Another thing stood out.  Not everyone would 
perhaps know what it was, but I recognized it instantly as a small 
vibrator, designed for clitoral stimulation.

I picked it up.  "Do you know what this is, Jenny?"

Jenny went pale.  "No, ma'am, I don't."

"Then why did you take it?  It seems so different from the other things 
you found attractive."

"I - I was curious.  I - I found it in Mrs. Greenberg's jewelry case, so 
I thought I'd see what it was."

"But you haven't figured it out yet?" I continued pressing.

"No, ma'am." Jenny replied, but her blush made me wonder just what she 
did know.

I turned to Beth.  "Well, Beth, I think that we have all we need.  You 
can be sure that Jenny is in good hands, and that she will be a 
different girl when you get her back."

Beth thanked us, cautioned Jenny to obey us in everything, said goodbye, 
and left.

"Jenny," I began, "you have behaved abominably, inexcusably.  Do you 
agree?"

Jenny began to cry.

"I asked you a question, young lady."

"Ohh, yes, ma'am.  I've been very bad!" she managed to blurt out between 
sobs.

"Well, never fear, my girl, you are here to be cured.  But you are also 
here to be punished.  In fact your punishment and cure are almost the 
same thing, except that in addition to being punished you are going to 
be taught self-discipline.  Self-discipline means the ability to NOT do 
some things that you very much want to do as well as to DO some things 
that you very much don't want to do.  You will be given many situations 
in the next few days in which you will be required to use 
self-discipline.  Whenever your self-discipline fails, your punishments 
will increase.  Do you understand?"

Jenny seemed confused.  "P-punishment?  I-I, that is, m-mom told me you 
were going to help me get rid of my k-k-klepto...my stealing problem.  
B-but p-punish--ment?  W-what kind of punishment?" she pouted.

"You will find out soon enough, young lady.  Now stop asking impertinent 
questions.  I will tell you that your punishment won't begin until this 
Wednesday, so you'll have a few days to meditate on your behavior.  
However,  your DISCIPLINE training starts right now.  You will instantly 
do anything you are told by myself or your Uncle Dave.  You don't have 
to obey Nancy or Timmy at the moment, until we tell you different.  Now, 
I have a question for you, and I expect you to answer it honestly."

"Y-yes, ma'am?"

"Do you masturbate?"

Jenny almost fell off her chair.  I can't imagine her being more 
shocked.  "W-what?"

"You heard me, Jenny.  You DO know what that word means, don't you?"

"Y-yes, b-but I-I c-can't..." Jenny was clearly dumfounded.  I noticed 
mischievous grins on Dave's, Nancy's and Timmy's faces.

"Can't tell us?  So you DO masturbate?"

"No!  N-no, I don't.  It's a sin!  Ohhhh!" Jenny was mortified.  Her 
face was bright red.

"Are you sure, Jenny?  You never play with yourself down between your 
legs?"

"Ohhh, Aunt Marge!"

"Yes or no, Jenny."

"No!  I never do that!  Never!  I'm a good girl!" she sobbed.

Chapter 2 - wherein our young heroine learns to feel at home and the 
family watches some interesting television.



"Well, I just hope that you're telling the truth.  When your Uncle Dave 
or I ask you a question, you must answer with complete honesty.  That is 
part of self-discipline.  Are you being completely honest, Jenny?"

I seemed to notice a painful hesitation before Jenny responded, "Y-yes 
ma'am.", her face as red as a beet.  It was exciting to note how easily 
embarrassed she was, and to realize that she was quite probably lying.

I showed Jenny to her room.  It was a small guest room upstairs.  Since 
we didn't feel that any excess luxury would be advantageous in Jenny's 
"treatment", the room was fairly Spartan.  It had a small bed with a 
firm mattress and a small chest of drawers.  I left her to unpack and do 
what she could to come to terms with her new situation.

At dinner, Jenny was very quiet, and the rest of us made a point of not 
talking about the subject that was uppermost on ALL of our minds, 
namely, what was in store for the young teenager.  Jenny went to bed 
right after dinner.

The rest of us immediately retired to the TV room.  I believe I 
neglected to mention that we had installed a hidden video camera in 
Jenny's room, with a wide angle lens.  Dave flipped on the receiver and 
we were just in time to watch the lovely Jenny, quietly sobbing all the 
while, begin to disrobe.

First she let down her lovely black hair, which fell to the middle of 
her back.  Then she removed her sweater and shirt, exposing an amazing 
pair of breasts, very large but firm and assertive, encased in a sturdy 
white bra.  Then came the shoes and socks.  Then the skirt.  In her bra 
and conservative white panties, Jenny revealed that she had a superb 
figure - broad hips, thin waist, and large, firm breasts.

We were disappointed to see her pull her nightdress on OVER her 
underwear, and then remove the panties and bra from underneath.  
Apparently she was even modest in private.  Jenny got into bed and 
pulled the covers up to her neck.  She switched off the lamp next to her 
bed and the only light remaining was the little night light that I had 
left there.

The video equipment that we had installed was designed to give good 
images in poor light so we were still able to see Jenny as she lay on 
her back, staring up at the ceiling.  She was still crying quietly.  
Perhaps she was a bit worried about what her visit would be like!

"Look!  The covers are moving!" said Timmy.

Sure enough, if you looked closely you could see a small, rhythmic 
movement disturbing the covers.  The center of the motion seemed to be 
right at Jenny's crotch area.  It appeared that the dear girl was 
masturbating!  I had not expected this good fortune!

As Jenny proceeded with her self-pleasuring the movements became more 
energetic.  She began to breathe more heavily.  She arched her back.  
Her knees came up and apart, and, wonderfully,  the covers fell down 
from her knees, exposing her.  It seemed that her night dress had fallen 
down the other side of the slope, and all of a sudden we had an 
unobstructed, although dim, view of Jenny's naughty little hand 
furiously at work on her surprisingly hairy cunt.  In a few more 
seconds, with a choking moan, Jenny came.

After her orgasm Jenny's head fell over on its side, her hands fell to 
the bed, her knees fell completely apart.   Whatever modesty Jenny may 
have previously exhibited was now forgotten as her sopping cunt lay 
exposed to our collective gaze.

There was silence for a few seconds until,  "I think that we'll want to 
save THIS tape."  observed Nancy.

"Will we have to punish her for that, Mom?" Timmy asked hopefully.

I replied, "We don't punish girls and boys for doing natural things that 
don't hurt anyone, like masturbating.  The problem is that Jenny lied to 
us in saying that she didn't masturbate, unless of course that was her 
first time.  I don't think it LOOKED like her first time.  Anyway, I 
clearly warned her that she must be perfectly honest with us, therefore 
she will most certainly be receiving extra punishment for dishonesty."

Yes, Professor, it is true that Dave and I don't believe that children 
should be taught that sex and/or pleasure are bad.  However, in a 
punishment situation, where humiliation is an important component, we 
find that it can be very useful to make the most of a subject's natural 
modesty and shyness about sex.  And in a case where a culprit has been 
willfully dishonest about their sexual proclivities it would be doubly 
appropriate, don't you think?

Another aspect of our plan for Jenny involved suspense, uncertainty and 
fear.  When a subject doesn't know for sure what is going to happen to 
her (or him), she will agonize over the possibilities.  "They might do 
such and such to me!  Oh, no, they would never do that!  It's too 
indecent!  But what if they would?  And if they'd do that, they might 
even do..." and so on.

We would not be informing Jenny of what was in her future until 
absolutely necessary.  Dave and I had indoctrinated Nancy and Timmy into 
this strategy.  Since Jenny was so innocent we figured that she wouldn't 
even expect a spanking.  We guessed that she probably expected her 
punishment to involve menial tasks or early bedtimes or restrictions of 
some sort or other.  But that first shock to her modesty, whatever it 
might be and however slight, would start her vivid teenage girl's 
imagination to working overtime.

For the rest of the week we more or less treated Jenny like a member of 
the family.  Nothing more was said on either side about the upcoming 
punishments.  The family members made a point of leaving valuable items 
in plain sight, just to see if anything would turn up missing.  

The second night, we again gathered around the TV and, once again Jenny 
started to take off her upper garments - this time a dark jacket over a 
blouse.  To our amazement, once her outer garments were off, Jenny 
reached inside her bounteous bosom and retrieved a gold ring of mine and 
gold pocket watch of Dave's.  After her nightshirt was on again, Jenny 
laid down on top of the covers and laid the stolen items next to her on 
the pillow.

Down went her naughty hand between her legs, and as it did its clever 
work, Jenny gazed amorously at the ring and watch lying next to her 
head.  Again her knees came up and exposed her hairy cunt to us all - 
only this time we could see much better because she hadn't turned out 
the lights.  Her orgasm seemed even more powerful that the one from the 
night before.  Nancy appeared entranced, but Dave and Timmy seemed to be 
in catatonic states.

Later that night, on a trip to the bathroom, I passed by Nancy's room 
and heard what might have been a mysterious sound if I hadn't already 
heard it from her room every night for the past week.  First there was a 
hissing and then a loud thwack.  Nancy was once again staying up late to 
practice her caning technique on one of her pillows.   I was so proud of 
her and her newly found study habits!  From the sound of it, she had 
improved a great deal - I felt a moment of pity for Jenny's bottom when 
Nancy got her chance to wield the rattan over it.

The next day was Wednesday, Jenny's day of destiny.  I was up early and 
was watching Jenny, live, through the hidden camera.  She looked in the 
closet where she had hung her clothes and found that they were gone.  
All that was there was a pair of white shorts and a red halter top.  On 
the floor of the closet were a pair of high heeled pumps.  She quickly 
turned to the chest of drawers and found only a pink, frilly g-string.  
Apparently she had never seen such an item before, because after she 
timidly reached out to touch it, she seemed to take a while before she 
gradually got an idea of how it was to be worn.  At an rate, she 
suddenly dropped the g-string back in the drawer and slammed it shut

Jenny seemed quite confused and distressed and sat down heavily on the 
bed, still clad in her heavy nightshirt.  She got up and went to the 
door, opened it, and called out, "Oh, Aunt Marge!  Aunt Marge!"

"Yes, Jenny, what is it?" I called back.

"Oh, Aunt Marge, my clothes are missing."

"Don't worry, dear, your clothes are safe.  You are to wear what you 
find.  And we want you downstairs for breakfast in fifteen minutes!"  I 
commanded sternly, with a secret smile.

In the next few minutes the rest of the family trailed sleepily into the 
kitchen and had seats at the table.  I served Dave his coffee and orange 
juice to the kids.

"We'll wait for breakfast until either Jenny comes down or her fifteen 
minutes are up." I informed the eager crew.

"Oh, boy, oh, boy!  I can hardly wait!  What are we gonna do to her 
today, mom?" exulted Timmy.

I think we'll find ways to make her pretty uncomfortable, Timmy." I 
answered with a smile.

Nancy chimed in, "Remember, Timmy, if we take it nice and slow, we'll 
probably be driving Jenny absolutely bonkers with suspense."

Fifteen minutes was up, and no Jenny.  A minute later I entered her room 
without knocking, to find her sitting on her bed, still in her heavy 
nightshirt, with recently shed tears drying on her sad face.

"Jenny, was I clear yesterday when I talked to you about obedience and 
discipline?"

"Uh, y-yes, Aunt Marge."

"And didn't you just disobey a direct order from me?"

"Oh, yes, Aunt Marge, but it's just that...I can't...I CAN'T wear those 
clothes!  They're immodest and too embarrassing.  Oh Aunt Marge, I 
couldn't let Uncle Dave see me in them."

"Let me tell you something, and listen very closely, Jenny.  You are 
being disciplined for a very serious set of offenses.  You are to do 
everything you are told without question.  One thing you will learn 
while you are with us is that there are consequences for misbehavior, 
and disobedience is misbehavior.  The consequence for disobeying ANY 
order as to what you are to wear is very simple - you will wear 
nothing."

Jenny's lovely black eyes grew to saucer size.

"Let me make myself clear.  If you don't want to spend the rest of your 
time hear completely nude, in front of the whole family, including Uncle 
Dave and Timmy, who would enjoy it very much, by the way, you will be in 
the kitchen wearing the clothes you have been given in five minutes."

Jenny was clearly stunned.  "N-naked?  No!  You can't!  You couldn't!  I 
won't allow it!"

"How would you like me to call the rest of the family up here right now?  
If I do, it will take just a few seconds to remove the few items you're 
wearing now, leaving you as charmingly naked as a baby girl.  Shall I 
call them?"

"Oh no!  No!  I'll do what you say!" Jenny blubbered desperately.

"See that you do.".

I indulged myself with a lingering examination of the wonderfully 
confused and shocked expression on Jenny's face, and then I left the 
room.

Three minutes later a vision of slightly trampy loveliness entered the 
kitchen.  Jenny had done up her hair into her customary bun, and she 
wasn't wearing any makeup (I made a mental note to correct this in the 
future), but she nevertheless looked quite sexy in her red halter top, 
very short white shorts and high-heeled pumps.  A large part of the tops 
of her boobs was visible above the halter top, almost certainly to her 
extreme mortification.  She seemed to keep wanting to shield her chest 
with one or the other of her arms, but wasn't sure how to do it.  
Amusingly, she seemed to be having a bit of trouble walking in the 
unfamiliar shoes.

Her face had the world's most woebegone look.  Her lower lip was 
trembling and tears glistened in the corner's of her eyes.  Her 
belly-button was looking VERY cute.

I stole a glance at my fellow family members.  Nancy seemed to have an 
amused and excited look.  The jaws of both Timmy and Dave had dropped, 
seemingly never to rise again.  None of us had seen Jenny in revealing 
clothes in a couple of years, and she had changed a LOT in that time, 
believe me.

"Good morning, Jenny." I said.

For some reason this was enough to start the poor girl to lowering her 
head and sniffling and sobbing.  This was NOT a polite response, I 
thought.

"Jenny, I said good morning." I repeated, with a bit of icy sternness in 
my voice.

This snapped her out of her momentary spasm of self-pity.

"Oh, y-yes ma'am.  G-good morning." she managed to whimper.

"How do you like your new clothes?" I asked pleasantly.

Again, the sniffling and sobbing started up.

"Jenny!  I asked you a question."

"T-they're f-fine, ma'am." she said, although it was clear that she 
hated them.

"Well, they certainly show us some things about you that we never saw 
before.  You have a very nice body, Jenny, although perhaps a bit 
top-heavy."

Jenny's breasts were providing a real challenge to the halter top, which 
was actually Nancy's.  The top was somewhat thin and didn't hide that 
fact that Jenny had two very large nipples crowning her twin glories.  
Nancy's embarrassment at the rather aggressive nature of her impressive 
equipment was very enjoyable to watch.

As for the shorts, they were also Nancy's, and they were also a bit 
tight on Jenny.  I couldn't see the youngster's bottom from where I was 
sitting, but the tight fabric presented a rather fetching outline of her 
apparently rather plump pussy, and the high cut of the legs as well as 
the low cut waist allowed a bit of Jenny's rather luxurious growth of 
pubic hair to peek out a bit from both the top and the bottom of the 
shorts.  I was sure that she must have been horribly aware of it.

"Jenny, please stand up straight and put your arms at your sides." I 
said, having noticed that she was hunching over a bit, perhaps hoping to 
minimize the prominence of her tits.  

She gave a soft whimper, but obeyed, throwing her shoulders back in her 
best military fashion, and, as a result, throwing her bosom up and out.  
Her breasts were amazingly self supporting as they quivered slightly in 
the breeze, the nipples threatening to break through the thin fabric.  
Her lower lip trembled slightly, and I could see a hint of tears ready 
to flow.

In our opinion, Professor, one very useful guideline for those who wish 
to discipline teens is the borderline of crying.  Being on the verge of 
tears is a exquisitely intense emotional state, and we try our best to 
keep our young culprits balanced exactly at that spot.  Of course, we 
don't mind at all going quite a bit TOWARDS the tears side of things.  
Mainly we try to keep our young bad girls and boys either in tears or 
almost in tears.

On the other hand, to be perfectly honest, we also are happy to have 
them yelling at the top of their lungs and begging for mercy, but still 
the above is a subtle point worth considering.

I motioned Jenny to take her seat.  "Eat a big breakfast, Jenny.  I 
think you'll be needing all the sustenance you can get today.  You do 
remember that today is your first day of punishment and training?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Jenny seemed to be a bit disappointed to notice that she had nothing but 
a large bowl of un-sugared oatmeal in front of her - none of the hearty 
pancake breakfast that the family was enjoying.  She tentatively brought 
a spoonful to her mouth and made a face after tasting it.

I said, "Well, naturally it's a bit cold, after you took so long to get 
here, dear."

Jenny was made a bit more uncomfortable as she ate by Dave's and Timmy's 
and Nancy's rather shameless staring at her impressive, half-naked 
breasts.  Her hand trembled as she ate and once she accidentally let a 
large glop of oatmeal land on the top of her left breast.  There was 
general laughter has I handed her a napkin and the poor girl had to 
clean off her breast in front of everyone.  I noticed a tear tracing 
down her cheek.

"You're lucky it's not hot, Jenny."  observed Nancy.

Jenny's appetite seemed to be unimpaired, however.  She finished her 
lukewarm oatmeal.

"Jenny, please join us in the living room." I ordered.  She followed us, 
clomping awkwardly on her high heels from the kitchen to the living 
room, where all but Jenny sat down.  Dave picked a straight backed 
chair.

"That's good, Jenny, you are to remain standing for now."  I began, "As 
you will no doubt recall, you are going to learn discipline here in the 
coming days.  A major part of that involves following orders whether you 
like to or not."

The poor girl watched me meekly as I spoke, evidently wanting to avoid 
offending me, and perhaps incurring the penalty punishments I had spoken 
of.

"Please walk over to Uncle Dave.  That's good.  Now stand directly in 
front of him, yes, between his legs.  Go on, don't hesitate, girl."

Jenny was now standing in front of my seated husband, in between his 
spread legs.  She seemed quite nervous and had her hands protectively in 
front of her "female parts". while her upper arms seemed to be trying to 
shield her breasts, although not very successfully.

It was Dave's turn to take over.  "Stand at attention, Jenny" he said.

Jenny attempted to obey, without completely removing her defenses.  She 
stood up straight, which caused her lovely breasts to push up and out, 
but she kept her arms in front of her with her hands over her crotch.

"Good girl." continued Dave.  "Now join your hands behind your head."

"Oh, please, Uncle Dave, I..I.."

"Now!" Dave added, with a bit of steel in his voice.  Jenny jumped to 
obey and was now standing with the front of her body unprotected and in 
easy reached of Dave's hands.

"Now, Jenny," said Dave, in a gentle voice, "It's very important that 
you remain perfectly still until you are told that you can move."  He 
said as he slowly reached forward with his right hand, ever so slowly 
moving it towards Jenny's flat, white, bare belly.  As the hand got 
closer, Jenny's breathing became faster, until she seemed on the verge 
of panic.  Apparently the idea of being touched on her bare skin by a 
man was very frightening for the dear girl.  I think that she was also 
very aware of the bit of her black pubic hair that was visible just 
above the waistband of the white shorts.

Dave's extended his index finger and, instead of touching Jenny's belly 
button, which had seemed to be his intent, he lightly brushed a couple 
of times the naughty hairs that I just mentioned.  He looked up at Jenny 
with a boyish, mischievous grin, which she didn't exactly return.  Her 
face was beet-red and her body was trembling with embarrassment.

"Need a shave, Jenny?" he queried, innocently.  The rest of us laughed 
and Jenny moaned.

"And down here, as well, I'm afraid." Dave went on, indicating Jenny's 
rather unglamorously unshaved legs.  She didn't have a great deal of 
hair on them, but it's darkness made it more noticeable.

Dave's finger moved a bit upwards and forward and lightly touched 
Jenny's belly button.  She let out a squeal and pulled back out of 
Dave's reach.  I wanted to make sure that Jenny didn't think that she 
could get away with that type of behavior.  Your readers will probably 
agree with me that it is much more convenient to punish a young culprit 
who has learned to be obedient than one that requires physical coercion.  
Of course we also realized that CERTAIN of Jenny's upcoming punishments 
might be to much for even the most obedient teenager to "hold still" 
for.  For these situations we had suitable restraints available.

Dave and I shared a meaningful look and before Jenny knew what was up, 
we had each grabbed an arm.  Holding her from behind, I said, "Nancy, 
Timmy, would you please strip Jenny?  Nancy, why don't you start be 
removing her halter top?"

Nancy moved eagerly to comply with my request.  Jenny shrieked, "No! No!  
Don't!  Please don't strip me!"  

The poor girl was in a panic.  Nancy reached around Jenny to start to 
undo the neck strap.  Jenny struggled valiantly but vainly.

"Stop a second, dear." I said to Nancy, "Jenny, I'm going to give you 
another chance. No more disobedience or you're going to be showing off a 
lot more than you seem to want.  Will you be obedient?"

"Ohhhhhh!" Jenny seemed a bit conflicted.  Inducing these types of 
crises in the culprits mind is excellent discipline, in our opinion.

"Go ahead, Nancy..."

"No!  I'll be good!  I'll be obedient!" Jenny yelled.  Then, quieter, 
"It's just that Uncle Dave touched me in a place that a man shouldn't 
touch me..."

"You leave that for us to decide, Jenny.  You may think that your belly 
button is sacrosanct, but we don't.  You've been very bad, and very 
stringent measures are called for." I intoned, "Now, resume your former 
position, or else."

Jenny's expression of embarrassment and fear was wonderful to behold.  I 
took the opportunity to observe my family, and saw some rather excited 
looks on their faces and, in the case of Dave and Timmy, some suspicious 
looking bulges in their pants.  Everyone repossessed their seats, and, 
after I gave her a very serious look, Jenny forced herself to reassume 
her position in front of Dave, standing between his legs.  She appeared 
a bit apprehensive, to say the least.

"Hands behind your head, Jenny." Dave gently reminded, "Good girl!".  
Happily he watched her impressive boobs rise and assert themselves, 
almost in his face.

"Have you learned to stand still, Jenny?" Dave asked as he again began 
moving his finger toward the youngster's cute little belly button.

"Y-yes, sir.." Jenny replied in such a quiet whisper that we could 
barely hear her.  She was watching the approaching finger very 
carefully.  Unfortunately for the success of her observation efforts, 
she most likely lost sight of it at the most critical moment due to the 
interference of her boobs!

She flinched violently as the finger lightly touched down right on that 
sensitive spot, but managed to resist the impulse to jump backward.  The 
lovely girl trembled as Dave's finger explored her belly, following ever 
widening concentric circles away from the central indentation (yes she 
was an "inny").

When the circular motions of Dave's hand brought it near, again, to the 
tuft of pubic hair previously mentioned, he suddenly grabbed it and gave 
it a playful tug.  Jenny couldn't help a flinch that jerked her bottom 
backwards when she felt this, but she remembered her promise and 
immediately returned to her proper posture.  I noticed a single tear 
tracing her cheek.

"Good girl, Jenny."  Dave said.  "We realize that you can't help 
instinctive reactions.  As long as you return to whatever posture or 
activity you're supposed to be in we don't consider that you have been 
disobedient.  By the way, does this hurt?"  Dave again gave a slightly 
more serious pull on the tuft of curly black hair.

"Ah!" said Jenny, again briefly jerked her bottom backwards.  She didn't 
answer Dave, however.

"Jenny, I asked you a question."

"Y-yes, sir.  It h-hurts."

"Good girl."

What we had planned for this little session was something that some of 
your readers may be familiar with.  As kids we would sometimes decide to 
give someone what we called a "pink belly".  The victim would be held 
down on the ground, or bed, or floor.  His or her shirt would be pulled 
up enough to expose the belly.  If the victim was wearing high waisted 
pants, and we were feeling especially brave or naughty, we might loosen 
his or her belt and pants and pull then down enough to expose the lower 
regions of the belly as well.  The perpetrators would then take turns 
lightly "spanking" the victim's belly - each person giving anywhere from 
50 to 100 slaps.

The effects were amusing to the torturers and uncomfortable and 
embarrassing to the victim.  After the first hundred or so slaps, his or 
her belly really began to burn and sting.  The hue actually change more 
to a red than a pink.  Afterward his or her belly burned and itched for 
fifteen or twenty minutes or more.

Dave and I had both experienced this as youngsters, and thought it would 
be a wonderful "teaching tool" for young Jenny.  However, as an 
experiment, we thought we would try an implement other than the bare 
hand...

"Jenny," I began, "your first real punishment and discipline session 
will start tonight after supper, but we thought we'd give you an early 
taste right now, just so you'll have something to think about during the 
course of the day.  Now remember the importance of obedience.  Please 
follow us into the dining room."

All of us walked into the dining room, with forlorn Jenny following us.

I ordered Jenny to get up on the dining room table and lie down on her 
back.  She did this with the utmost of dread in her countenance and in 
the sound of her little girl whimpers.  She lay rigidly with her legs 
pressed tightly together and drawn up slightly, thus minimizing the 
prominence of her crotch area,  and her arms by her side with her hands 
clenched into fists.  Her high-heeled pumps added a nice touch!  She was 
almost panting with fear and nervousness and sweat beaded her forehead.  
What were these crazy people about to do to her?

"Would you get the implement, Timmy?" I asked the dear boy.  Timmy 
quickly returned from a trip to the kitchen with a plastic fly swatter.  
Yes a fly swatter.  A plastic fly swatter makes, in our opinion and 
experience, a wonderful instrument of discipline for the more tender 
areas of the anatomy.  It is, light, flexible and very stinging, yet 
unlikely to cause much damage for the amount of discomfort it can cause.  
The type we like has a crosshatch pattern in the business end which adds 
an extra sting and the ability to cause blisters, as well as permitting 
it to travel faster through the air.  Jenny was about to get the pinkest 
of pink bellies!  She would be so proud!

Chapter 3 - in which a belly is pinkened and Jenny learns what bad girls 
get.


"Jenny, please stretch your legs out flat."  I ordered.  With a whimper, 
Jenny obeyed, giving us a full view of the front part of her body.  Her 
head rested on the bun that her hair was fixed up in; her eyes stared 
fixedly at the ceiling, as if it contained a fascinating mural.  Her 
face was more beautiful than ever with the flush of embarrassment and 
fear.  Her amazing breasts only spread out a little bit inside the 
almost overburdened red halter top.  Her belly was pale and flat and 
couldn't have been cuter or made a more tempting target for a fly 
swatter.  The white shorts were wonderfully tight and I think we all 
enjoyed the little "w" shape made by her plump pussy.  As Jenny trembled 
her breasts shook like Jello sculptures.

Timmy had been assigned the task of "pinking" Jenny's belly, and Dave 
and I felt very confident that he would do a good job.

"This is a preliminary session, Jenny - it is primarily for you to 
practice being obedient.  Timmy is going to give you one hundred smacks 
on your very cute little belly.  If you try in anyway to hinder him, you 
will be held down and you will receive one hundred and fifty strokes 
instead.  I hope you understand."

Timmy took a position to the left side of the supine Jenny.  Jenny 
watched fearfully as he raised his weapon, smiled,  and let fly.  The 
swatter swished through the air but missed Jenny entirely.  It was a 
decoy stroke.

"Ah!" Jenny yelled, instantly jerking her hands to protect her 
midsection.  The poor girl seemed to have very bad self control.

"I don't believe I gave you permission to move your hands, Jenny.  Did 
I?" I asked.

"N-no ma'am."

"Anymore unauthorized interfering with your justly deserved discipline 
and we will add fifty to the number of strokes you are to receive.  
Understand?"

"Y-yes, ma'am." She whimpered as she lowered her arms back to the table. 

"I want you to apologize to Timmy for attempting to prevent him from 
doing his job, and then you are to ask him to give you a VERY pink 
belly.  Go on..."

Jenny began to cry.

"Jenny!" I raised my voice to her.

Through her tears the poor girl managed to whimper out the required 
sentences.

"You heard her, Timmy, she wants a VERY pink belly." I said with a 
smile.

This time Timmy gave Jenny almost no warning, raising the fly swatter 
and quickly smacking it down - right on the cute little dimple of her 
belly button.

"Aggggh!" Jenny yelled.  Her hands moved again, to comfort and to 
protect her vulnerable belly, but she managed to remember her orders and 
instantly returned them to her sides, as she sighed with the smarting 
sting.

I was pleased.  Knowing that Jenny was into self-denial and penance and 
religiosity, I had been a bit afraid that she might have developed a 
high pain tolerance.  It appeared on the contrary that she had a very 
LOW tolerance.  This made me happy because it is so much more fun to 
discipline a victim who responds enthusiastically to pain.

Timmy now began a smacking rhythm.  Most of the strokes were of medium 
strength, such that they would not be terribly painful individually, but 
which would build up to a powerful burning and stinging feeling in a 
short while.  In addition, Timmy periodically would punctuate the rhythm 
with an especially harsh smack.  I began to think that he might have 
musical talent!

Jenny gave little squeaks and moans with each blow and as time 
progressed she was clearly in more and more discomfort.  Her hands 
started moving again, obviously wanting SO badly to go to the rescue of 
her now burning belly.  She started to writhe, apparently 
uncontrollably, turning a bit from side to side.  I could tell that she 
was TRYING to be good, but it was getting hard for her.

Timmy covered all of Jenny's belly, and the color changed from a light 
pink to a dark pink to a deeper rose hue.  He DID seem to particularly 
enjoy smacking her belly button, I suppose because Jenny seemed to 
squeal and jerk a bit more after these strokes.

I warned Timmy when he had five strokes left.  He paused for a second, 
and said to Jenny, "How does your belly feel, Jenny?"

"Ohhhhh..." the poor girl moaned, still writhing even though blows had 
temporarily stopped.

Knowing Timmy as I did, I knew that he wouldn't feel like he had done a 
proper job unless he had forced Jenny to be disobedient and make some 
defensive maneuver.   I expected that he would make these last strokes 
especially hard to attempt to break her will.  I was surprised - the 
strokes were only of medium force - although, since her belly was 
already quite sore, they DID seem to be causing her considerable pain.

With one stroke left Timmy unveiled his strategy.  He pretended to 
direct a fearsome blow, not at the wonderful glowing belly, but directly 
at Jenny's left tit!  He stopped the fly swatter before it made contact, 
but not before Jenny screamed in fear for her sensitive boob and moved 
both hands to guard it.  Timmy had won!

"Oh, Jenny!" I said, "I'm afraid we'll have to add fifty more strokes.  
And, just think, you only had one to go!"

I took Jenny's wrists in hand and pulled her arms back over her head.  
Dave grabbed her ankles and she was thus held securely, only now her 
impressive breasts seemed more assertive and impudent than ever!

Timmy began again, only this time he made EVERY stroke a real cracker.  
It only took two before Jenny was struggling desperately and yelling 
loudly.  Unfortunately for her, she was forced to take every stroke.  By 
the time Timmy had finished, Jenny's poor belly was a good deal closer 
to a dark red than to a pink, and Jenny was yelling, crying, and 
moaning.  It was a wonderful beginning, I thought to myself.

Dave and I let go of our respective limbs and Jenny's hands instantly 
rushed to comfort her burning belly.  As soon as she did, though, she 
remembered my orders and again put her hands at her sides.  She looked 
at me, obviously wondering if she was now permitted to touch herself.

With a laugh, I said, "Go on, Jenny, you can rub your belly now."  Dave 
and the kids laughed as well as Jenny tenderly massaged her midsection, 
moaning and crying softly.

We allowed Jenny to run crying to her room, after giving her the 
following instructions (during which she had to stand at attention 
before us so we could all admire the job Timmy had done on her belly).  
She was to shave her legs and under arms before dinner.  She was to 
appear at dinner with her hair down and with lipstick, rouge, and 
mascara applied, which I would be bringing to her a little later.

The last thing I said to her before she was allowed to go was:  "Well, 
Jenny, you didn't do so well in your first test of self-discipline - but 
I hope that you learned your lesson.  It's going to continue to be this 
way - any lack of obedience or self-discipline will only make your 
punishments worse.  Now, you have the rest of the day to think about the 
beginning of  you real punishment, which will be after dinner.  Go on, 
girl!"

Who could imagine the mental state that Jenny must have been in?  What 
did she think her "real" punishment could be after what had just 
happened to her?  Her sacrosanct body had been trespassed!  Her pain 
threshold far exceeded!  And this was only a preliminary?

When I brought her her makeup materials about an hour later, Jenny was 
lying on her side on her bed.  Her hands were right next to her still 
very red belly and it appeared that she had just been rubbing it.  She 
quickly sat up.

"How does it feel, dear?"

"Ohh, Aunt Marge, it itches and burns."

"Well, punishments aren't supposed to feel good.  Otherwise they 
wouldn't be punishments, would they?"  I asked, somewhat rhetorically.

Nancy gave only a soft whimper in answer.

"Didn't you think Timmy did a good job?"

Another whimper.

"Well, here is your makeup stuff.  We'll make a pretty girl out of you 
yet!"  Of course I was quite aware that she was a very pretty girl even 
without makeup.

I went on, "One more thing, Jenny.  Do you remember when I asked you if 
you masturbated?"

Jenny flushed a deep red.  Her jaw dropped.  She seemed too stunned to 
answer.

"Well, I'm sure you remember.  You told us that you didn't, and of 
course we believe you.  That hasn't changed by any chance has it?"

The blush intensified.  "Uhhh-hhh, n-n-o, Aunt M-Marge - I  w-would 
never d-do that." she stammered with her eyes staring at the floor.

"Well, I'm sure I've told you that complete honesty is absolutely 
necessary when you're under discipline at our house.  I'd hate to find 
out that you were lying to us."

With that I left her to her almost certainly frantic thoughts!  Poor 
Jenny!  What would she think on that fine day when we showed her the 
shameful videos that she was starring in?

Supper time eventually came around.  It was probably way too soon for 
Jenny.  She skulked into he dining room with a new look - shaven legs, 
shaven armpits (with a couple of nicks, it looked like), flowing black 
hair, and some rather badly applied makeup.  Oh yes, her belly was 
looking interesting - a couple of bruises, but mostly it looked like she 
had developed a bad rash.  Then I noticed that she had removed the 
naughty little tufts of pubic hair both from above the waist band of her 
shorts and from the bottoms of the legs of the shorts.

"Come with me, Jenny, and we'll fix that makeup." I said.

It was a matter of just a few minutes in the bathroom before Jenny 
looked absolutely scrumptious.  I didn't exactly "tart her up"; rather I 
used a fair amount of subtlety, so that she looked like an innocent, but 
beautiful teenager - in a halter top, very tight shorts, and high heels 
of course.  This actually had the effect (as was my intention) of making 
her look very, very spankable.

Not surprisingly, Jenny didn't talk much during the meal.  And she 
seemed to dawdle a bit, especially with her apple pie.  She probably 
realized, correctly, that SHE was the REAL desert for the evening.  But 
how she would be served?  I wondered if she had a clue.  Did she suspect 
that she was going to be a toasted turnover?  Did she perhaps fear for 
her bottom?  She ought to have¡­

Everyone else was pretty quiet too, but for a very different reason.  We 
were very excited and eager to start Jenny's discipline, so we all 
wanted to finish dinner as soon as possible.

Nancy spoke up,  "Come on, Jenny, finish your desert.  We have such a 
lot of activities planned!"  At which Jenny almost choked on her last 
bite.  I was very impressed with Nancy's very dry and cruel sense of 
humor.

I stood up.  "Jenny, follow me, please."

I led Jenny into the "punishment room", which used to be known as Dave's 
workshop.  The rest of the family followed.  I could hear Jenny's 
shallow, fearful breathing behind me as I opened the door.

We had decorated a bit.  There were now easy chairs in addition to 
"devices", so that the non-subjects could be comfortable.  The lighting 
was subdued, with track lights able to light up the subject from various 
angles and at various parts of the room.  All of the "devices" were 
covered in black velvet sheets.  The walls had Victorian flagellation 
scenes - to add the right effect.  Actually there was one "device" that 
wasn't covered - a simple straight backed chair  in the middle of the 
room.

I don't know what it was in particular about the room that got to Jenny, 
but she was instantly terrified and started sniveling shamefully.  "Oh, 
what are you going to do to me?  I want to go home!  Please let me go 
home?" she managed to babble.

"Be quiet, Jenny!" I ordered.  She obeyed at once.  She was learning, 
but tears were still streaming down her face.  It occurred to me to 
wonder if a girl who spends a whole evening crying needs to replenish 
her electrolytes, with something like Gatorade, for example.   I was in 
a good mood, and so, apparently were all but one of us.  I could sense 
Dave's intense desire to get to Jenny's butt, and Timmy and Nancy seemed 
as happy as I had ever seen them.

"Stand in the middle of the room, Jenny.  Yes, next to the chair is 
fine." I commanded the terrified young morsel.  "Your arms at your sides 
please."

The rest of us each picked an easy chair.  We arranged ourselves so that 
we were all pretty much in front of the trembling, shrinking Jenny.   My 
chair included controls for the lighting and I adjusted it so that Jenny 
was spotlighted and the rest of us were in semi-darkness.   She look 
wonderfully cute and vulnerable.

I began, "Jenny, you have been a very bad girl, have you not?"

Staring at the floor, she answered, "Yes, ma'am.  I'm very sorry for 
stealing all those things."

"You have risked ruining your own life and you have damaged the 
reputation of your family."

Jenny could only sniffle out, "Y-yes."

"Now, what do you think is a proper way to punish a bad girl like you?"

Jenny was silent.

"Jenny, I asked you a question."

"I-I don't know, ma'am.  ~sniff~"

"Think, Jenny!  How are bad girls punished?  Bad LITTLE girls."

All that could be heard was Jenny's sniffling.  Then, "Y-you wouldn't¡­"

"Wouldn't what, Jenny, dear?"

"I-I don't know - nothing, ma'am.  I didn't mean a-anything."

"Were you thinking of a particular form of punishment, dear?  Tell us.  
We'd all like to know.  What IS the way that bad LITTLE girls are 
punished?"

"Oh!  Oh, I c-can't."

"Say it! Now!" I raised my voice ominously.

"¡­s-sp¡­"  was all she could get out.

"Spanking, Jenny?  Is that it?  Well, let me tell you.  You're right.  
That IS how bad little girls are punished.  And now tell us this, Jenny.  
Where are bad little girls spanked?"

"W-where?"

"On what part of their naughty bodies are little girls spanked?"

"Ohhhhh, Aunt Marge¡­." And the dear girl had another fit of weeping, and 
at the same time her hands, perhaps unconsciously, moved backwards a 
bit, as if wanting to shield her tender bottom.

"Answer me right now, or, so help me, we will strip you naked, Jenny 
dear, and we will make you very sorry you weren't more cooperative.  
Answer me - on what part of their bodies are bad little girls spanked?"

"O-o-on their¡­Oh!  O-on their¡­b-bot¡­Ohhh!  I-I c-can't¡­"

"All right, that does it.  Come on everyone, we're going to have a naked 
Jenny in a few seconds."  I said.  With that we all got up from our 
chairs and started to approach Jenny menacingly.

"Their bottoms!  Their bottoms!  They're spanked on their bottoms!  
No-don't strip me, please!  Their bottoms!" the poor girl yelled out.  
It was so funny that all of us were more or less made helpless by 
laughter for a few seconds as we collapsed back into our chairs.

"Very good, Jenny." I resumed.  "Again, you're right, bad little girls 
are spanked VERY thoroughly on their bottoms.  Now tell me this.  When 
these bad little girls are spanked, and this is a very critical question 
I'm sure you'll agree, are they spanked over their clothes, or are they 
spanked on their BARE bottoms?"

"Over their clothes!  Oh, please, over their clothes!  Oh, Aunt Marge, 
you can't spank me.  Oh, you can't!  Please, I would DIE!  Please, 
anything else - not that!"

"Jenny, I'll thank you to leave the decisions as to your proper 
punishment to us!  Now, I think we can agree that SOMETIMES bad little 
girls are spanked over their clothes, and SOMETIMES bad little girls are 
spanked over their panties (Jenny blushed at this word), and SOMETIMES 
bad little girls are spanked on their bare bottoms.  Wouldn't you agree, 
Jenny?"

"Y-yes, ma'am."

"Which of those three do you think is the most severe punishment for a 
bad little girl, Jenny."

No answer.

"Jenny!"

"Being s-spanked on the b-bare b-bot¡­" again, she couldn't quite say 
that word!

"I agree with you, Jenny, so I think we could conclude - stop me if you 
disagree - that a VERY bad little girl, a little girl who has disgraced 
her family, for example, should at LEAST get a very thorough spanking on 
her bare bottom.  Do you agree, Jenny?"

Jenny couldn't answer.  She seemed ready to faint.  Her eyes shifted 
wildly about her, as if seeking an avenue of escape.  Finally, "Oh, Aunt 
Marge, please!  Anything but that!"

"Let me continue.  Jenny, we ARE going to spank you on your bare bottom, 
but we are doing you a big favor.  You are going to get to keep your 
little g-string on during your spanking, or spankings, really.  I'm sure 
that should be a big relief to you.  At least, I know that if I were in 
your predicament, and I were going to get a bare bottom spanking in 
front of several people including a grown man and a pubescent boy, that 
I would be just as concerned about the exposure of certain, uh, PARTS.  
That is, when a bad little girl is forced to lower her panties, more 
than JUST the cheeks of her bottom come into view.  Do you understand 
what I mean, Jenny?"

"Ohhh - y-yes, ma'am."  More weeping followed.

"So if you continue to be a good, obedient girl, you will be allowed to 
keep your g-string on.  Otherwise, you will be stripped naked and will 
receive more than just a spanking.  Understand."

Her answer, "Yes, ma'am." was barely audible.

"Now, Jenny, remember the penalties for disobedience, and slowly remove 
your shorts."

Jenny had now been plunged into a horribly impossible situation.  She 
clearly felt, being the shy, modest girl that she was, that she just 
COULDN'T take those shorts off in front of Dave and Timmy.  She'd rather 
have DIED, I'm sure.  She seemed confused and glanced wildly about her 
as if seeking some escape.

"Oh, Aunt Marge!  I CAN'T do that!  Please - can't you s-sp-spank me 
over my shorts?"  She backed up towards the door.  Suddenly she made a 
break for it.  She tried to open the door.  Alas, to her disappointment, 
it was locked.  Madly she pulled at the handle.

I signaled the others and we all advanced towards her.  She tried to run 
past us but she didn't have much of a chance, especially with her 
awkward foot wear.  Dave grabbed her and held her fast by pulling her 
arms behind her back.  I walked up to her.

After taking a moment to admire her assertive boobs, I said, "So, we 
want to escape, do we?  We don't believe in being obedient, do we?  So, 
then, I guess we really WANT to be stripped.  Let's start with this.  I 
think we'd all like to get a look at those huge TITS of yours, darling."  
as I reached around behind her and pulled the tie loop loose on the neck 
strap of her halter top.

This was not enough to cause the halter top to fall from its massive 
contents, particularly such firm, large contents as Jenny possessed.  
But it was enough to put the fear of the Lord into young Jenny.

"Stop!  Stop!  I'll do it!  I'll do it!"

"What will you do, dear?" I asked.

"I'll¡­.take¡­my¡­s-shorts¡­." Then she burst into bitter, inconsolable 
tears.

"Off?"

"Yes, ma'am." through her sobs.

"Well, you're obviously still learning, dear.  Once again, we'll give 
you another chance.  But you WILL be incurring special penalties for 
this unforgivable breach of discipline.   That will come later.  Here, 
let me retie your halter top.  There, that's good.  Now, we'll all 
return to our places, and you, Jenny, will remove your shorts.  Is that 
right, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am." and her crying renewed itself.

Jenny had no choice.  I had made the alternatives so clear to her that 
she realized that her avenue of least humiliation, of least exposure, 
and most likely of least pain, was that of obedience.  But OH the pain 
in her heart as she began to unfasten the metal button on her tight 
shorts.  Her fingers were barely up to the task, but it wasn't a 
difficult button and soon it was undone.

We all stayed silent, enjoying the spectacle, enjoying her agony.  She 
unzipped.  The sound seemed loud in the silence.  She started to pull 
down the shorts.  The front of the black, frilly g-string came into 
view.  Jenny was careful not to pull it down too.  Clearly protecting 
her cunt from view was important to her, even as she was exposing her 
bottom.  At this point she seemed to have a crisis deciding what way to 
stand, so as to minimize embarrassing exposure.  She chose to stand 
sideways to us, which WAS the most practical choice she had available.  
Of course the rest of us realized that ultimately it would make no 
difference.

"All the way off Jenny.  Come on!"

As Jenny bent over to step out of the shorts, as task made more 
difficult again because of her high heeled pumps, she seemed to decide 
that at least for now she wanted to turn away from us, so we got to see 
her bottom cheeks spread as she bent, showing us the black strip of 
g-string running between her buttocks and the black pouch that contained 
her plump pussy.   The shear expanse of her lovely white bottom was 
impressive.  It would surely take a lot of whipping, and I was eager to 
see the effects!

She remained standing with her back to us, her shoulders heaving with 
sobs.  For a few minutes we enjoyed feasting our eyes on the impressive 
work of art that was Jenny's rear end.

I commented, "You have a very lovely and very large bottom, Jenny."

She moaned and moved her hands back in a very ineffective attempt to 
cover her rear.

Then I said, "Turn around and face us, Jenny."

Jenny obeyed but obstructed our view of her crotch with both hands.

"Hands at your side, Jenny." I ordered.  She moaned with embarrassment 
and obeyed.

"And stand up straight.  Good girl."

Apparently she had only shaved enough of her pubic hair to prevent it 
showing beyond the shorts.  Now we could see bounteous amounts springing 
from above and below the g-string.  She was a vision of loveliness, and 
her forlorn condition made her even lovelier.  Her skin was as white as 
her hair was black - except for her very interesting and sore looking 
belly, of course.   Her makeup, unfortunately, was now pretty much a 
mess.

Dave got up from his chair.  Jenny flinched and looked as if she didn't 
know what was going to happen.

"Just stay right there, little filly." Said Dave.  ( "Little filly???" 
Where did he get that?)  He sat down right next to her, in the straight 
backed chair.  She watched him, trembling.  She almost certainly knew 
what he was there for.

Dave asked her, "Have you ever been spanked before, Jenny?"

"N-no, sir, Uncle ¡­. Dave..oh!."  Jenny's exclamation came, I believe, 
because she suddenly noticed Dave's rampant erection showing through his 
khaki's.

"What's the matter, Jenny.  Did you notice something?"  Dave asked, 
smiling.

"Uh, no!  Uh, that is, no!  Nothing, Uncle Dave."  All the while, she 
could hardly take her eyes off the bulge in his pants.  She must have 
realized that she was going to have to lie across his lap, right on top 
of that bulge.

Dave said, "Now come over here, Jenny.  Turn this way.  That's good.  
Now just let yourself down.  All the way.  Now lets slide you a little 
forward, so I can get a good bead on that bottom."  Dave got a very 
satisfied look on his face as poor Jenny settled down over his lap.  I 
was sure it was at least partly because her tummy was pressing on his 
erection!

The chair was arranged so that Jenny's blooming, white bottom was 
"facing" the rest of us in our comfortable easy chairs.

Chapter 4 - wherein Dave's hand gets sore, Timmy performs an inspection, 
and Mom philosophizes.

Dave rested his left hand on the small of Jenny's back and the other on 
the left cheek of her bottom.  A small despairing wail was heard.  This 
was clearly a terrible thing to her - having Uncle Dave's hand molesting 
her tender, sacrosanct rear end.

Dave said, "Jenny, I'm going to give you one hundred spanks, and it's 
going to be just like this afternoon with your belly.  If you offer any 
resistance or give me any trouble, the rest of the family will restrain 
you and you will then get one hundred and fifty spanks.  Understood?"

"Ohhhh,  Uncle Dave, please¡­.don't¡­.."

"Jenny, answer me - understood?"

"Y-yes, sir." Came the pitiful response. Jenny's bottom shifted 
uncomfortably.

"Now, I want you to ask for your spanking.  Tell me that you deserve a 
very severe spanking and ask me to please give it to you."

This brought another torrent of tears.  Would she become dehydrated 
soon, I wondered?  Eventually, Dave convinced Jenny to make the shameful 
request. 

"Please give m-e¡­.p-ple¡­p-please g-ive me a sp-sp-spanking, Uncle Dave, 
ohhhh!"

"Tell me you deserve a severe spanking."

"Ohhhhhh!  Oh, I deserve a s-s¡­ oh, please not too hard!"

"Jenny, I'm losing patience!"

"Oh, I'm sorry!  I deserve a s-s-severe spanking!"

"Where should I give it to you?"

"Ohhhhh!  On my b-b-bottom!  Ohhh!"

"As you wish, dear."

By the way, Professor, and dear readers.  When my husband gives a 
spanking, it REALLY is severe.  He has a strong arm and a heavy hand.  
With out further ado, Dave raised his arm and brought his hand down hard 
upon Jenny's left cheek, right about in the center.  Whap!

Jenny jerked and yelled, "Owww!" as much from surprise at the force as 
from the pain.  A couple of seconds later the pain sank in and she 
moaned with it.  Her bottom twisted in anguish.

Dave spanked her slowly, deliberately, and with a great deal of force.  
He was NOT fooling around.  Jenny became more and more energetic in her 
responses, both vocal and physical.  She was only able to bear 10 blows, 
even though they were well distributed over her spacious bottom, before 
she reached her right hand back to protect herself.

"Put that hand back, Jenny, or it's extra punishment!"

Jenny put the hand back, with a great deal of mental effort.  Just as 
she did.  Whap!  Dave let another one fly.  Only five more (this time 
all in one spot) and the poor girl was again forced to put her hand back 
to try to protect her aching bum.

"All right, that does it.  Come on, everyone."

As we had previously planned, I went to Jenny's front side and held her 
wrists.  I took pleasure in noting the desperate, pain-filled and 
shame-filled look in her reddened eyes, and how her cheeks glistened 
with tears.  I also enjoyed the view of Jenny's tits that were offered 
to me from this position.  The halter top had sagged out just a bit and 
I could clearly see the areoles and nipples, both of which were large 
and reddish brown.

Timmy and Nancy first removed Jenny's potentially dangerous high heeled 
pumps as well has her white socks and then each gleefully took 
possession of one leg.  Jenny was now in for it, and she knew it.  She 
begged, "I'm sorry!  I won't do it again!  Please don't give me extras!"  
Even from my angle I could see her bottom clenching with dread.  Timmy 
and Nancy saw this too and shared a mischievous grin. 

Whap!

Dave began again, even harder than before.  I counted the spanks as they 
were ruthlessly dealt out to the unfortunate backside of lovely Jenny.  
Jenny started to yell loudly with each blow, and her struggles became 
desperate - yet she had received only about a total of thirty.  A 
pleasant side effect was the bouncing and gyrating of Jenny's breasts. 
After about fifty she began to become tired.  Clearly she felt each blow 
just as keenly, but her struggles weakened.  I could look over her back 
and see that her bottom's appearance had changed dramatically.   It was 
approaching a cherry red!

Timmy and Nancy seemed beside themselves with enjoyment as they did 
their part to ensure that Jenny was unable to escape her punishment.  
Dave seemed to take Jenny's slight abatement in her reactions to his 
swats as a challenge.  He increased the force of his spanks to a 
frightening level.  He was successful in getting Jenny back into the 
mode of yelling and struggling and her poor bottom pained her more and 
more.

After what must have been an eternity to Jenny, Dave reached spank 
number 100, which was a real cracker, making Jenny jerks a little bit 
more than she had been and yell a little louder.  He paused, and let his 
hand roam affectionately over the battered rump.

"Boy, is it hot!" he exclaimed.  Jenny settled into more crying and 
moaning.

"Jenny, I'm a bit tired, so I'm going to give you a chance.  If you can 
take them without being held, I'll give you only ten more.  Otherwise, 
we'll hold you again and you'll get the full fifty that you have 
rightfully coming to you.  Understand, Jenny?"

"Yes, yes, just ten more, I'll hold still!  I can't take fifty more."

We released Jenny's arms and legs, and Dave began anew.  Believe me, 
Professor, Dave was not about to let Jenny get off with only ten more.  
He was just giving her false hope.  As I'm sure you know, this can be an 
enjoyable diversion for the punisher and a terrible demoralizer for the 
victim.

Dave gave Jenny a terrific whack, right at the crease where her bottom 
cheeks and her thighs met, and right in the center.  As any student of 
female anatomy (or any reasonably observant person, for that matter) 
knows, this area is where the cute little diamond shape hole is formed 
by the bottom and thighs, and where one can often spy a bit of furry 
pussy if one cares to look.  Hard spanking in this area can give the 
recipient some especially painful sensations, both in her bottom and in 
her vulva.   Jenny jerked and screamed at the blow but managed to keep 
her arms still.

It was a losing battle for her.  After the fifth blow in the exact same 
spot the poor girl was forced by the pain to attempt a defense.  As a 
result we resumed our holds on her various limbs, and Jenny thus 
received the full measure of her spanking.  Her struggles during the 
last forty or so blows became extremely vigorous, as well as her screams 
and pleas for mercy.  This was due at least partly to the fact that Dave 
chose to continue to focus on the area just mentioned, bringing his hand 
powerfully up from underneath Jenny's seat, almost lifting her up from 
his lap, producing loud reports and desperate howls.

All through this last part of Jenny's spanking I enjoyed watching her 
anguished, pained expressions, her swaying, bouncing breasts, and the 
top part, the part I could see, of her big, blotchy red bottom as it 
heaved about in agony.  The children seemed to be getting a similar 
enjoyment, and Dave seemed to be in ecstasy.  I suspected that he might 
be very close to orgasm.  I have to admit I was getting pretty excited 
myself.

Timmy, Nancy, and I let go of Jenny.  Her hands instantly rushed to 
attempt to comfort her poor rump, which was now a very pretty deep red.  
She moaned and groaned in her aching pain.  The three of us sat again in 
our chairs and enjoyed the sights and sounds of a well-spanked teenage 
girl.  As she clutched at her bottom cheeks she inadvertently gave us 
nice views of the black frilly pouch that encased her pussy, and the 
strip that ran between her bottom cheeks.

Dave said, "Stand up Jenny."

She tried to obey, but the poor thing required help from Dave to bring 
herself to her feet, and she was pretty unsteady once there.  She 
continued to shamelessly massage her butt.  Dave got up and returned to 
his easy chair.

"Turn and face us Jenny, at attention." I ordered.

The poor girl let out a despairing wail and obeyed me, making sure that 
her arms were at her sides and her chest out.  It was amusing to note 
that her struggles while over Dave's lap had caused her g-string to work 
down a bit so that a lot more pussy hair was visible, as well as the 
beginning of the swell of her mount.

"Jenny!  Pull up your underwear.  How indecent!  Why, you'd think a girl 
of your upbringing would have learned SOME modesty!" I said, with a sly 
wink to the others.

Jenny looked down and saw how she was exposed in front.  With a cry she 
quickly reached down and righted things. 

Nancy spoke up, "How does your bottom feel, Jenny?  Is it sore?"

"Y-yes¡­it's very sore¡­.sob."

"Wouldn't you like to rub it some more?"

Jenny could only sob at this.

"Well, Jenny, dear." Said I, "We've finished the first part of this 
evening's exercises for you."

"The first part!  No!  Please!  No more!  Not now - it hurts SO much 
already¡­"

"Jenny, do you really think that that a little spanking is sufficient 
punishment for what you have done?"

"Ohhhh!  Yes!  It was t-terrible!  A-and I'm s-so embarrassed!  And I'll 
never, never steal again!"

"I'm afraid you're wrong, Jenny.  It wasn't sufficient.  You have a 
great deal more punishment coming, so you might as well get used to the 
idea.  We're just getting started on that bottom of yours.  A big, fat, 
rear end like yours can take a great deal more, and that's what you're 
going to get."

"No! No!  I really, really, can't take anymore!  It's SO sore!  I can't 
take pain very well.  Oh, please!  Just wait until tomorrow¡­when my 
bottom doesn't hurt so much.  It hurts just to touch it now!"  Jenny was 
arguing her case like an expensive lawyer.  Her bottom must have REALLY 
been sore, or she wouldn't have been talking about it so freely.  
Normally she would be embarrassed even to say the word!

"Hmmm," I began, "So your bottom is VERY sore, Jenny?"

"It hurts REALLY bad, Aunt Marge!" came the earnest response.

"Hmmm, well¡­Tell you what, Jenny.   Let's let young Timmy here have a 
look.  If he thinks your bottom has been punished enough, then we'll 
stop for tonight.  How does that sound?"

"T-Timmy?" came the tearful, hesitant response, as Jenny shot a quick, 
blushing glance over at the suddenly grinning Timmy.

"Yes, that's your cousin, in case you forgot." I said, drawing a laugh 
from all but Jenny.  "Show Timmy your bottom, Jenny, and he'll decide 
whether it can take more punishment."

"Sh-show Timmy my b-b¡­?"

"Jenny, are you suddenly unable to understand English?" I said with a 
smile, "Walk over to Timmy, turn around, and show him your bottom."

"Oh, Aunt Marge, I can't!" the poor thing seemed panic stricken.

Nancy said, "Don't worry, Jenny, he won't be able to see your pussy!  Or 
your bumhole, for that matter."

Needless to say, this comment didn't add to poor Jenny's composure.

One of the most enjoyable things about disciplining and innocent girl 
like Jenny, Professor, is that she can have wonderful lapses such as 
this.  For example, in this case, Jenny seemed to have forgotten that 
Timmy had, just a few seconds earlier, been watching her bottom bouncing 
and writhing about and turning from pale white to a splotchy red.  Now 
she was embarrassed to ¡®show him her bottom'.  Wonderful!

"Fine, we'll move on then, to the next stage in your punishment."

"Ohhhhhh!  Wait!  I'll do it!" and the poor girl scampered over to 
Timmy's chair and then shyly turned around, standing awkwardly in front 
of the happy young man.  Not seeming to know what to do with her hands, 
she wrung them together nervously.

"Bend over a bit, Jenny." said Timmy, having a hard time hiding his 
excitement.

With a hopeless moan, Jenny obeyed her young, horny, cousin, hanging her 
well-presented bottom right in front of his greedy eyes.

"Hmmm!  Spread your legs a bit, Jenny." came Timmy's next order.

Jenny obeyed, but only just.  This seemed to satisfy Timmy for the time 
being.  He reached out with both hands, placing each palm on one of 
Jenny's divine cheeks.  She jerked at the contact but remained in 
position.  I was proud of her!

"Wow!  You could fry eggs on this butt!" observed Timmy, as his hands 
roamed about at will, causing Jenny no end of embarrassment and 
consternation.  He started to pinch her a bit, no doubt as a scientific 
attempt to judge how sore she was.  From her little flinches and 
squeals, it appeared that she was pretty sore.

"It's pretty red all right, with some purple spots, but there seem to be 
some areas that didn't get it very hard." Timmy reported, pointing at 
Jenny's bottom crack and the still unblemished skin inside it to 
elucidate the last few words of his sentence.  Impulsively, he gave 
Jenny a mischievous little poke in between her bottom cheeks - no doubt 
right on her anus.  Jenny almost jumped two feet in the air and pulled 
away from Timmy, her hands rushing behind her to guard the invaded area.

"Jenny!" I said forcefully, "Again you're failing to be obedient and to 
exercise self-discipline.  Get right back where you were or you'll be 
VERY sorry!"

Jenny was cowed, and started to move back, but she was so reluctant to 
give Timmy the chance to repeat the poke he had given her, or maybe to 
do even worse things, that she hesitated.

"Oh, Aunt Marge, you don't understand - he touched my¡­my¡­oh, it's 
indecent¡­I'm sure you wouldn't want me to let him touch my¡­"

"Your what, Jenny!" I said, feigning great exasperation, with a wink at 
Dave.

"My a-anus!  Ohhhhh!" and she burst into sobs.

"Jenny," I said, "You are here for punishment and discipline.  It is not 
your place to make ANY judgment on the propriety of any action that any 
of us may take.  Whatever Timmy did was done for YOUR OWN good.  You 
must understand that you can't continue to be this disobedient.  
Apologize to Timmy, this instant, our you'll be very sorry!"

"Ohhhh, T-timmy, I-I'm sorry."

I continued, "Now return to your position and ask Timmy to continue 
evaluating the state of your bottom.  Otherwise, we will just continue 
with your punishment, and believe me, you'll get it extra hard for 
disobedience."

Jenny reassumed her posture in front of Timmy and made the shameful 
request for him to continue examining her.  It was a bit hard to 
understand her through her sobs.

Timmy finished up his examination with some very intimate probing, 
during which Jenny seemed like she wanted to die right then and there.

Nancy asked with a smile, "Well, brother dear, what is your verdict?"

Timmy got a very professional look on his face.  "Well, her bottom IS 
pretty red, all right, but it's so big I think it can take a bunch more.  
Besides, there are some parts that aren't even red yet!"  Timmy 
punctuated this last statement with a repeat of the rude poke that Jenny 
had so strenuously objected to.  She gave a brief scream and jumped a 
bit, but managed to get herself back into position admirably quickly.

"Well, Jenny, you heard your cousin." I said.

"Yep!" said Nancy, "It looks like your bottom's in for some more fun!"

Jenny saw that her situation was hopeless, but that didn't stop her from 
quietly babbling, "No¡­No!  Oh, please¡­.it huuurts too much already!  Oh, 
please!"

I told Jenny she could stand up and .while she begged I went to the wall 
where many lovely implements were hanging.  I chose a heavy, 
three-tailed Scottish taws, and walked back to where Jenny cowered 
before her uncle and cousins.

"Here you are, Jenny," I said brightly, "Have a look!  This is what's in 
store next for your naughty bottom."

"Ohhhhh!  Wh-what is¡­Oh no! Please!"

I continued, "You could say that this (slapping the tawse meaningfully 
against my palm) is the BAD news, Jenny.  However, there IS some good 
news.  Aren't you glad?"

Jenny could only stare as the others laughed.

"Do you find this interesting, Jenny?  It's a Scottish taws, designed 
for exactly the purpose that we have in mind - namely to punish bottoms.  
This is a heavy model, which we picked because we want to make sure that 
we REALLY cure you of your kleptomania.  Notice the three tails at the 
end.  They add a particularly intense sensation, so I'm told."

Jenny seemed to be getting unsteady on her feet, "No - surely you 
wouldn't b-beat me w-with¡­"

"The good news is that since you've been having such a hard time with 
self-discipline so far, we're going to leave out the self-discipline 
portion of the next stage.  You won't have to worry about staying in 
position, which I rather doubt you'd be able to anyway because this 
little baby packs a real wallop, anyway, you won't have to worry about 
holding still because you'll be tied down.  Aren't you glad?"

This was too much for our delicate darling.  She fainted on the spot!  
Dave, who saw it coming, was quick enough to catch her.

Actually, it was a convenient time for her to faint, because it made the 
necessary preparations that much easier.  Perhaps you remember my first 
letter, Professor, in which I introduced the modified sawhorse that Dave 
had ¡®invented'?  It was just a matter of padding the top brace and 
adding some hooks.  Well, he had now improved the design quite a bit, 
and actually created a new device.  What he had come up with was really 
more like an Olympic style vaulting horse.  It was bolted into a metal 
plate that he had put down on the floor, and the height could be 
adjusted for various body types and various uses.  The horse was 
removable and in fact the metal plate was designed so that a second 
horse could be placed next to the first one.  The second horse could 
also slide away from the first up to about three feet.

Speaking of Nancy, one of the refinements was her idea.  The padding on 
the top bar was now covered with a bristly coconut matting.  Nancy's 
idea was that Jenny's sore belly would be further irritated by this.  
Nancy is a very thoughtful girl!

In short, when Jenny came to, just a few seconds after we had finished, 
she found herself well secured over the horse.  However, instead of 
spreading her legs, as we had done with Nancy (there would be plenty of 
time for that later), we fixed her ankles and her wrists,  with leather 
cuffs and clips, to a ring that was imbedded in the floor in the center.  
We had raised the height of the horse so that Jenny's legs had a little 
bend in them if her tummy was resting on the cross bar. Thus she had the 
ability to heave her bottom upwards about six inches.  Nancy and I had 
pulled her hair back into a ponytail and then loosely attached that with 
a piece of string to the waist band of her g-string.  This kept Jenny's 
hair out of her face, not so much for her benefit as for ours - to give 
us an unobstructed view of Jenny's face and all of the various 
expressions that were sure to visit it.

Even though Jenny's ankles were fixed more or less together, her 
relaxed, unconscious, state allowed her thighs to hang somewhat apart, 
which, combined with her tightly bent position, opened her up quite a 
bit in back.  Of course her most intimate parts were still covered by 
the protective g-string, but this view nevertheless seemed most 
interesting to Dave and Timmy.

"Ohh, where am I?  Ohhh, my bottom hurts, and my tummy!" were her first 
words.  Then, "OHH!"  as she noticed that she couldn't get her arms or 
legs loose.  "What's going on!  What are you doing to me?"

"Nothing¡­yet!" volunteered Timmy.  At the sound of Timmy's voice, Jenny 
clinched her legs together as tightly as she could.  Nevertheless,  in 
her tightly bent position a little of the black pouch that contained her 
pussy poked provocatively out from between her thighs, and a few cute 
sprigs of pubic hair were visible as well.  Jenny looked lovely as she 
tentatively struggled, trying to assess the extent of her entrapment.  

I walked to Jenny's front and trailed the three tailed end of the taws 
so it touched her hand.  She jerked in surprise then gazed in 
fascination at the strap.

"Go on, feel it, Jenny.  That's it, notice how thick and heavy it is.  
Yes, it IS a bit scary isn't it, but no reason to start blubbering.  
Believe me, you'll have something to blubber about in a little bit." As 
I somewhat roughly pulled the strap away from her hand, and walked 
around to command her OTHER end.

And what an end it was - a truly impressive bottom, large yet 
well-formed and tight, without excess fat.  It was diverting just to 
watch it, following the examples of Dave, Nancy and Timmy, as it 
slightly squirmed its blotchy red surface in fear.

I was looking forward to the next few minutes.  As your readers may 
remember, Professor, I had up to this moment had the pleasure of using 
both the birch and the cane on a bottom - namely that of my darling 
daughter Nancy.  Always wanting to add new skills to my repertoire, I 
wanted to get experience with the taws.  I had a feeling that a big 
bottom like Jenny's would be a wonderful subject for an instrument that 
delivers a very harsh pain over a wide area.  

Dave had given Jenny an extremely effective spanking and I took that as 
a challenge.  I wanted Jenny to forget all about the spanking!

I felt the need to philosophize.  "Have you ever considered, Jenny, how 
wonderfully suited the bottom is as a location for punishing a naughty 
young girl, especially when it's a big, sturdy bottom like yours?"

Jenny moaned in humiliation and fear.

"It is wonderfully sensitive, yet it can withstand extremely vigorous 
applications of a large variety of implements.  The owner of the bottom 
may be convinced after a while that she can stand no more, but she is 
always wrong.  Her bottom can always take more.  In addition, a young 
girl's bottom, such as yours, is such a joy to whip and spank and to 
watch as it bounces about and changes colors.  Added to all of this is 
the wonderful sense of embarrassment and humiliation that the sensitive, 
modest type of girl, such as yourself, must endure."

"Oh, please, please, don't hit me with that¡­"

I drew back the taws and gave her a severe stroke right across the 
middle of her tightly bent bottom.  The taws made a loud "CRACK!" as it 
hit.  The area that had been struck first turned white and then slowly 
turned an even deeper red than that of the surrounding area.  As for 
Jenny's reaction, the first result was a soft, "Ah!", followed after a 
couple of seconds by an intense moan of surprise and pain.  Her buttocks 
clinched hard and her hips ground into the cross bar for about 5 
seconds.  Then she pushed her bottom backwards towards her appreciative 
audience, yawning the globes charmingly.  Just as she did this, I gave 
her another hard one, lower down, almost across her thighs.

"Ahhhhh!  Stop!"  she found her voice, "I can't¡­" writhing in this 
suddenly more intense pain.

Whack!  I sent this one to hit in between the other two.

"Ohhh! Ahhh!  It hurts!!  Please, Aunt Marge, it's too much!  Ohhh!"

Whack!  This one went high, on the very top of the lovely big bum.  

"Agggggh!"  she screamed and then panted, trying to catch her breath.  
Her bottom was starting to perform some very interesting gyrations.  I 
started to think that I was succeeding in making her forget the 
spanking.

"Another nice thing about a girl's bottom" I continued my 
philosophizing, having to talk rather loud over young Jenny's moaning 
and crying and begging,  "is the interesting extra sensitive parts that 
can sometimes make their appearance, depending on how the young girl is 
positioned, if you know what I mean.  No matter how much a girl's bottom 
cheeks may be hurting, as I'm sure yours are, one can always ad a nice 
little extra touch of spice, of pain that is, by making use of the extra 
sensitive bits."

At this I allowed the tail of the taws to brush against the little bit 
of g-string encased pussy that was pushing out, rather impudently, just 
underneath Jenny's blazing bottom.   Then I turned the taws sideways and 
drew it edgewise up her bottom crack.  She instantly, intuitively, knew 
what I was implying.  A girl can't help but realize when very sensitive 
parts of herself are in a vulnerable position.  "No!  Aunt Marge, not 
there!" the dear girl blurted out.

"An even if one never chooses to make use of the more sensitive areas, 
the young girl in question has to always wonder just WHERE the next 
stroke will land.  No matter how much her bottom is hurting, the young 
lady knows that she must be respectful and polite to avoid even greater 
pain."

Whack!  Whack!  Without warning I delivered two stingers to the tops of 
Jenny's delicate thighs.  The sawhorse creaked with the strain of the 
sudden jerking of Jenny's body as she let loose two surprised and 
agonized screams.  Jenny's rear view was producing more and more 
evidence of a severe thrashing.  The previous red color left over from 
her spanking was now enhanced by several bands of a darker, almost 
purplish red, and decorated with darker purple marks where the tails of 
the taws had hit.

Chapter 5 - wherein the Jenny becomes more acquainted with the feel of 
leather and learns how to do a hamster imitation.



It occurred to me that, in my brief discourse on the wonders of bottoms, 
I had unfairly neglected the thigh.  Thus I wanted to make sure and NOT 
neglect Jenny's thighs NOW.   I thought I would give them the individual 
attention the lovely columns of flesh deserved.  I picked the left thigh 
first and backed up just a bit.  Since I'm right handed I hoped that 
this adjustment would allow the tails of the heavy taws to wrap around 
and bite into the delicate, and as yet untouched, inner thigh.

I let fly.  The stroke was a hard one, but the tails bridged the gap 
between her legs, hitting the right thigh.  Jenny's scream told me that 
this was effective, but it wasn't what I was aiming for, so I further 
adjusted my position.  The next severe stroke succeeded in punishing 
ONLY her right upper thigh, with the tails wrapping greedily around it.  
The effect was impressive, and I thought I noted a new higher pitch in 
Jenny's squeal of agony.

I gave her five more like this on her left thigh, sending the poor girl 
into paroxysms of  wriggling and yelling as I painted the lovely section 
of flesh a deep purplish red.  The pain in her thigh caused Jenny to 
pull her left leg as far to one side as she could.  This didn't really 
help her situation a bit, but she wasn't really acting logically.  The 
resulting posture was somewhat amusing as well as revealing.

Next I moved to Jenny's right side and began delivering backhand blows 
to her right thigh.  These weren't quite as powerful as the ones the 
left thigh had received, but they were still good ones - I actually 
pride myself on my tennis backhand!  The results were certainly 
acceptable.  Poor Jenny bawled and yelled, and struggled fiercely 
against her bonds.   I gave her a total of ten backhand strokes on her 
tender right thigh, gradually increasing my skill and effectiveness 
throughout.  Jenny's reactions were exemplary - she put on a show that 
all of us enjoyed thoroughly.

I paused to observe the results of my handiwork.  Jenny's lovely large 
bottom, well bent and well presented, had been made, to my eyes, even 
lovelier by our strenuous efforts.  Adding to the aesthetics of the 
experience were the gyrations Jenny was continuing to perform for us and 
her seemingly endless weeping and moaning.

"Is your little botty a bit sore, Jenny?" I asked, giving her a playful 
pinch just under her right buttock.  

She jerked and squealed, showing us that indeed she WAS pretty sore back 
there, but there was no spoken response.  Jenny seemed wrapped up in her 
physical sensations, which I admit must have been considerable.  I 
leaned over the horse and grabbed her conveniently located ponytail.  
Roughly I yanked her head back.  This got her attention and she yelped.

"Jenny, I asked you a question.  Is your poor little bottom a bit sore?"

She whimpered, "Y-yesss. Ohhhh, it hurrrrts!" continuing the slow bump 
and grind that had us all so entranced.

"Do you feel that you've been sufficiently punished for your bad 
behavior?"

"I-I¡­uh¡­.I don't k-now." She didn't want to say anything wrong, but then 
she broke down, " Ohhhh, please - yes!  I've been punished enough!  I've 
learned my lesson!  I'll never steal again.  Ohhh, I hurt so much and 
I'm so humiliated in front of everybody and all¡­"

"I'm surprised and disappointed, Jenny.  It's certainly clear to us that 
your actions deserve a great deal more punishment, and believe me you're 
going to get it.  But it very much disturbs me that YOU think you've 
been punished enough. That means that you haven't acquired a strong 
enough sense of just how bad you've been and how much you deserve 
punishment."

"Ohh, I know I was VERY bad, but, Aunt Marge, I just CAN'T take anymore.  
My b-b-ottom hurts SO much.  I couldn't stand anymore!"  she wailed, 
meanwhile inciting us to inflict even more pain on her devoted bum 
through her continual waving and of it in our faces.

"Now, Jenny, I'm sure your bottom hurts quite a bit.  But, believe me, 
it can and will hurt quite bit more.  In fact, I think you may look back 
on this particular moment as a time when your bottom didn't yet really 
hurt so bad.  Besides that, Jenny, you have a wonderfully large and 
robust bottom.  We have hardly begun to test its limits.  I'm sure it 
can take a great deal more of what we want to give it.  So don't worry!" 
I chuckled and gave her a reassuring pat on her red and purple rear.  
Surprisingly, it didn't seem to reassure her very much, and she broke 
down into heartrending sobs.

"Now, let's try and see if we can get an improvement in your attitude, 
Jenny.  I want you to tell us that you have been very bad, and then I 
want you to ask me to strap your naughty bottom VERY VERY hard.  OK?  
Let's try it."

Nothing except soft sobs.

"GO on, Jenny, or it will be MUCH worse.  I think you may realize by now 
that I'm not kidding when I say that.  Speak!"

"I've been v-ery, sob, very b-bad.  Please, punish my n-aughty 
b-b-ot¡­oh, I can't!"

I drew back the taws and, taking careful aim, gave Jenny a medium light 
stroke, aiming carefully so that the tales landed right on her pussy.  
She screamed and jerked.  I was pleased by her reaction to such a light 
stroke.  It seemed that she had a VERY sensitive pussy.

Jenny was gasping and sighing.  She seemed shocked that dear Aunt Marge 
would do such a thing.

"Jenny, let me be clear.  I'm going to start giving the part of you I 
just touched the same kind of treatment I've been giving your bottom, 
unless you say what I told you to say - right away."

Jenny clenched her legs together, obviously trying to shield the 
delicate organ that I had so cruelly threatened.  Her tightly bent 
position, however, ensured that it continued to peep curiously from 
between her thighs.  Of course the attentive reader will remember that 
Jenny was wearing a black lace g-string, so her modesty was still 
protected.  I hope that this provides some relief to those readers with 
more delicate sensibilities! 

She answered pitifully, "Ohhhh don't - I'll say it!  Uhhh, let's 
see¡­please punish my naugty b-b¡­ohh!  My naughty b-bottom, very very 
hard!  Ohhhh!"

"You can be sure that I will, Jenny dear.  Oh, Dave, how many has she 
had so far?" Dave was good at keeping count.

"24, if we count that last one."

"Well, Jenny, just to show you that we're not totally heartless, we'll 
count that last little baby stroke that you seemed to dislike so much.  
Your getting 50 with the strap so that leaves 26."

"T-t-twenty-six more?  Oh, God, no!  It's too many¡­"

Whap!  Whap!  I had returned to my forehand position and given her two 
good ones square across the middle of her spacious rear end.  The cheeks 
rippled and Jenny screamed.

I settled into a rhythm:  I would give her a solid, snapping stroke of 
the heavy leather; then I would give her a few seconds to experience the 
pain as fully as possible and for her yells to die down just a bit; and 
then I would draw back and give her another.  I worked her rear area 
from the top of her bottom crack down to the backs of her knees, paying 
no attention to her agonized screams and pleas for mercy.  However I DID 
pay a lot of attention to her lovely gyrations, and the wonderfully 
mournful expressions on her upended face.  Dave, Timmy, and Nancy 
watched with what appeared to be rapt enjoyment.

Dave signaled me that there were five left.  I delivered them up under 
the curve of her bottom, realizing that the impudent little pussy would 
get a  taste of the strap as it crashed up into her lower cheeks.  These 
blows seemed to bring a new edge, a new kind of squealing sound, into 
her screams, and caused her to raise her bottom up as high as she could, 
instinctively trying to retreat from the strap.

Finally, the allotted amount had been delivered and I stopped.  I 
suddenly realized I was tired.  Jenny continued, as if in perpetual 
motion, to cry, moan and squeal.  She alternately would push her thighs 
and tummy against the cross bar and clinch her deeply reddened bottom 
cheeks seemingly as hard as she could, and then shudderingly push her 
naughty rear back out at her admiring audience, yawning the globes 
charmingly.  I noticed that in her struggles her g-string had gotten 
wedged into her slit, thus exposing most of her hairy cunt.  It was an 
impressive site, and one that seemed especially fascinating to Dave and 
Timmy.

In order to humiliate her a little more I reached down and, as I 
rearranged the g-string to its former, more modest, condition, I said, 
"Really, Jenny, how rude of you to expose yourself back here.  Don't you 
realize there are men present?  I though you were a modest young lady."  
As usual, everyone but Jenny thought this was very funny and laughed 
heartily.  Jenny could only wail out her embarrassment and try once more 
to attempt fruitlessly to diminish the rear view she was providing us.

"Well, your strapping is over, Jenny." I said.  Jenny responded with 
what seemed to be a sigh of relief, mixed in with her continuing moans 
and sobs.

"Let her loose, kids." I said to Nancy and Timmy.  They quickly moved to 
untie poor Jenny's arms and legs.  Nancy thoughtfully remembered to 
detach Jenny's ponytail from her g-string.  Jenny tried to push her self 
up with her hands on her knees, but couldn't quite do it.  Dave, who was 
standing right behind her, feasting his eyes on the scrumptious bum, 
decide to help her by giving her a tremendous open handed whack on 
across the center.  It worked!  Jenny screamed and shot bolt upright, 
grabbing her aching, smarting cheeks with both hands and rubbing 
vigorously, seemingly forgetting what an amusing picture she was 
presenting.

"That's enough rubbing, Jenny.  Hands at your sides and stand at 
attention!  Now!"  She complied, her back straight, her shoulders back, 
and her tits front and center.

I continued, "While I was, umm, adjusting your g-string for you, Jenny, 
I noticed that you don't seem to be getting turned on.  That's good.  
Sometimes a girl will get turned on by this type of punishment, which of 
course decreases the aversive effect.  Oh, but I forget - you've told us 
that you never masturbate, so you might not even know what I mean by 
¡®turned on'."

Jenny squirmed and hung her head in great embarrassment during this.  
Dave and Nancy smiled and Timmy stifled a snigger.   Jenny, of course, 
still knew nothing about the incriminating video tapes.  Unconsciously, 
her hands started rubbing her aching bottom again.

"I though I told you to stop rubbing your bottom, Jenny.  Do you want 
more of the strap?" I asked with a smile.

Jenny snapped to attention again, but she was unable to prevent the 
sudden rush of new tears, the heaving of her shoulders, and the 
quivering of her breasts in their skimpy red halter top.  She really was 
a delicious victim!

"Is your bottom hurting you very much, Jenny?" I asked cruelly.

Jenny could only give a mournful moan in reply.

"How would you like Timmy to rub your bottom for you?  Would that make 
it feel better?" I continued, drawing smiles from my family members.

"No!  Ohhhh, please, Aunt Marge¡­it hurrrts sooo bad!" she pleaded, 
wringing her hands in anguish.

I answered, "Ohh, my, Jenny!  I'm sorry to hear that, since you still 
have your caning coming up."

This checked her tears AND her breathing.  She could only stare at me 
open-mouthed.  Clearly she had believed that she had suffered about as 
much as it was possible for a young lady to suffer.  I suspect, also, 
that she wasn't really sure what I meant by "caning".

"Do you know what I mean by ¡®caning', Jenny?"

She continued to be speechless for a couple of seconds, then, "I-I 
d-don't k-know what it is, Aunt Marge, but, oh please!  My b-b¡­  my 
b-bot¡­. I'm SO sore - don't beat me any more!"

"Nancy, why don't you fetch the cane, and we'll try to help Jenny here 
get a better idea of just what caning is."

In no time at all a beaming Nancy picked our "Judicial" model rattan 
cane from among the many implements hanging on the wall.  This was the 
heaviest model we owned, and was intended for serious punishments only.  
She held it out for Jenny to look at.

Nancy said, "This is a cane, Jenny.  Do you think you might have a 
better idea now of what a ¡®caning' might be?" grinning at her poor 
miserable victim, "What do you think - do you think it will do a number 
on that fat bottom of yours?  Watch this!"

While Jenny watched with a demoralized expression, Nancy, slowly bent 
the cane into a semicircle.  "Notice how flexible it is, Jenny.  That 
will help me to really whip it into your butt.  I'm going to make you 
wish you were still getting the strap.  I've been practicing!"

"Oh, please, please¡­" Jenny sobbed.  If she had realized that her 
pleading only made us thirst to torment her further, perhaps she would 
have put a lid on it.  As she stood there I noticed that, now that she 
was upright, her copious tears were streaming down her neck and wetting 
the tops of her marvelous breasts, making them glisten in the track 
lighting.

"Now, Jenny,"  I said, "For this next edition of your punishment, we are 
going to reintroduce the self-discipline and obedience factor.  You will 
have the opportunity, by exercising your self-control to the utmost, to 
keep the number of strokes Nancy gives you to a minimum.  Nancy will 
explain in more detail in a moment, but first¡­."

I pulled the sheet off of the gynecological exam table that your readers 
will remember from my previous letter.  Since we didn't need them for 
this edition of Jenny's punishment, we had removed the stirrup 
attachments, so that it was more or less and ordinary doctor's 
examination table.  However, Dave had made some further modifications.  
There were a number of strategically placed straps distributed over the 
surface, so that  victim could be secured in a variety of ways.

"Up on the table, Jenny, on your hands and knees."  Nancy ordered the 
poor, terrified teen.

"Ohhhh, please¡­!"

"Come on, Jenny" I said, "Remember your self-discipline."

Jenny had to be helped up onto the table, as it turned out, because her 
sore bottom made it difficult for her to perform the necessary 
acrobatics.  Once we got her on her hands and knees, we instructed her 
to lower down onto her forearms and proceeded to lower her front end so 
that her forearms lay on the table.  This brought her nipples in contact 
with the surface.  We then strapped her forearms to the table, as she 
moaned and pleaded for mercy.  It was also a simple matter to attach her 
ankles and calves as well.  Her legs and arms were both fixed about two 
feet apart in order to help her balance.

Nancy and the rest of us had this all planned out, and Nancy knew what 
she needed to say to Jenny.  "Jenny, I want to you struggle a bit.  
That's good.  It looks like you're well secured.  But check this out, 
Jenny." Nancy put her hand under Jenny and pushed up on her tummy.  
"Lets arch your back UP, that's it, UP.  Notice how this posture sort of 
pulls your bottom in - it's sorta like you're trying to avoid 
punishment, like you don't want it.  Well, we don't like this posture, 
so keep that in mind.  Now let's try curving your back the other way.  
Good girl, your tummy goes down!  Can you feel how your bottom is arched 
out and spread and offered more conveniently to my cane?  Now let's 
improve it just a little more.  With your back still curved, stick your 
bottom up and out as much as you can.  This is the posture we LIKE."

Jenny was too terrified to disobey Nancy and pushed her bottom out even 
more, thus offering not only the cheeks but all that was between them 
and between her smooth thighs to Nancy's pleasure.  It seemed that Jenny 
had a terror of her cousin.  As it would turn out her intuitions were 
correct!

Nancy continued, "That's very good, Jenny, just hold that position.   
Now, remember when I was thirteen and you were eleven and we had those 
hamsters?  Remember what the female hamster looked like when she was 
ready for the male hamster to mount her?  I remember that you found that 
especially fascinating, even though you pretended not to.  Well, that's 
just what you look like - a hamster in heat.  Ha, ha!  Hmm, let's have a 
look at you from behind.  My goodness, Jenny, it's certainly a good 
thing you have that g-string on.  Otherwise you'd be giving us all a 
totally excellent show, for sure!  In fact, I'll tell you what I'll do.  
You're getting 25 strokes of the cane - that is if you're good.  If 
you'll ask Timmy to remove your g-string, I'll knock it down to fifteen 
strokes.  What do you say, Jenny?"

No answer, only whimpers and moans.

Nancy added, "Let me tell you, girl, the cane gets worse with each 
stroke.  By the time you get your fifteenth, I suspect you'll wish you 
had gone for my deal."

"Ohhhh, Nancy, please!  I can't take anymore!  But I CAN'T have my 
g-g-g¡­string off - I would die - it's too immodest!  Please, can't we 
wait just a while until my bottom isn't quite so sore - I REALLY can't 
take anymore! It hurts so much."

"Ha, ha!" Nancy laughed cruelly, "You don't actually have any choice do 
you, Jenny?  You'll take exactly as much as you get.  Now, if you'll 
remember back to those hamsters - when the female is in that special 
state that you're imitating, she would kind of wiggle her behind a 
little.  Why don't you give that a try?  Come on, lets have a little 
wiggle!"

Again, while Jenny kept the arched and offered position that Nancy had 
put her in, she wasn't following Nancy's recent order - her rear end 
remained stationary.

"Wiggle that bottom, darling, or that g-string is coming off!  Timmy, 
will you do the honors?"  Nancy asked her eager brother.

That did the trick!  Jenny gave us a cute bottom wiggle.  Admittedly, it 
was rather half-hearted, but it WAS a wiggle.  It was quite charming, 
especially with her big, well offered bottom was wonderfully adorned 
with splotches, welts and bruises - many of the colors of the rainbow.  
Jenny accompanied the wiggle with a soft whimper.

"Jenny, listen good, OK." Began Nancy, "I told you that you're getting a 
minimum of twenty-five with this cane.  Look at it again.  It's very 
long and quite solid, isn't it?  Believe me you won't want to get 
anymore than the minimum if you can avoid it.  Well here's how you can 
avoid it.  After each stroke I will wait a few seconds for you to do 
what you have to do - you know, scream or yell or whatever, and I guess 
you'll probably jerk your bottom around a bunch.  That's fine, but at 
some point I'll say ¡®Attention!'.  That will be your cue to very quickly 
return to the position you're in now - your lovely hamster imitation - 
and then say, ¡®Thank you, Nancy.  Please give me stroke number¡­' 
whatever number is the count of the next stroke.  THEN, after you've 
said that, and I expect it to be in a cheerful and polite tone of voice, 
you will give us your cute little bottom wiggle."

This brought a new round of sobbing.

"Yes, Jenny, you wiggle your bottom very well.  In fact, let's see you 
do it again.  Now, Jenny!  Good girl!  Now, you have to do all of those 
things very quickly - you will have exactly ten seconds.  After ten 
seconds I will give you the next stroke.  It will count ONLY if you have 
completed your tasks and done them in an acceptable manner.  Now lets 
review.  What do you do after I say ¡®Attention!'?"

"I¡­arch my back¡­and¡­st-stick my b-b-bottom out¡­"

"Very good!  You stick your big bottom out.  And what do you say?"

"Ohhhhh!  I say, "Thank you and please give me the next stroke."

"No, you have to tell me the number of the stroke."

"Oh!  Yes, OK!"

"And then?"

"I w-w¡­, I w-wiggle my¡­my b-bottom." Another flood of tears followed 
this.

Nancy brought the cane up to touch gently against Jenny's sore, swollen 
bottom.  Jenny gave a gasp and jerked her bottom forward.  Nancy 
adjusted her position so that the tip of the cane would just catch the 
far side of Jenny's rump.  This was calculated to produce maximum 
effect, of course.

"Jenny!  Attention!" order Nancy.  Jenny obeyed, and her bottom was 
again provocatively offered to us and to the cane.

Nancy continued, "Now for this first stroke, you can leave out, of 
course, the part about thanking me for the last stroke, since I haven't 
given you one yet, but you still must perform the other steps.  
Attention!"

"Please give me the next stroke¡­I-I mean please give me 
stroke¡­n-number¡­oh, Nancy, I'm so sore¡­"

"Attention, girl!" Nancy said, with a smile.

"Please give me stroke number o-one."

"Good, and what else?  Remember  the wiggle!  And hurry up or the first 
stroke won't count."

Jenny gave us a marvelous wiggle.

Nancy brought the cane down with a searing stroke across the  fullest 
part of Jenny's already well cooked bum.   There was a report like a 
pistol shot and a gasp from Jenny, the flesh of her bottom rippled, her 
hips jerked forward and her head flew backwards.

It is important, professor, for your readers to understand that the 
"Judicial" cane, so named by our supplier, is quite a formidable 
instrument.  It is significantly both longer and heavier than canes that 
one sees in typical spanking videos.  It's effect can only be described, 
and inadequately at that, as "extremely painful".

Emitting a series of gasping "AHH!" ¡®s, Jenny writhed in pain, clinching 
her cheeks and attempting to tuck her rump under herself.  She gave out 
a long, agonized, moan.  The cane mark was at first white against her 
red and purple bottom, but quickly rose up into an angry weal of an even 
darker red.

Gradually Jenny managed to get some kind of hold on herself, but she 
wasn't very far along before Nancy said, "Jenny, attention!"

Jenny seemed to hear Nancy, but wasn't quite able to remember, through 
her haze of pain, what was expected of her.  Ten seconds passed and, 
alas, our cute young victim didn't properly come to "attention".

Nancy sent a second whistling cut into Jenny's bottom, just a couple of 
inches below the first one.  Another surprised gasp followed by a 
mournful groan was Jenny's vocal response.  Her physical response was to 
clench her bottom cheeks again and throw her head back in pain.  The 
stripe that appeared was admirably parallel with the first stripe, both 
perfectly perpendicular to her bottom crack

Jenny managed a few words, "Ohhhh stop!  Please, please!  Ohh, it 
hurts!" in a shrill, desperate voice.  It was clear that the cane didn't 
agree with her at all.

Nancy laughed, "Now, Jenny, please don't ask me to stop.  I'm having too 
much fun, and there's so much area left on your big butt to touch up.  
Anyway, if you wanted me to stop you'd be better behaved.  You know that 
last stroke didn't count because you didn't do what I told you to do.  
Do you remember what you're supposed to do when I say ¡®attention'?"

"Ohh, yes, I remember!"

"So tell us, then."

Jenny sobbed a bit, and then said, "I'm supposed to thank you for the 
last stroke and then ask for stroke number three¡­and¡­"

"Come on, Jenny.  We're not playing around, here.  Keep count - that 
last stroke didn't count, so the next stroke is number two.  I'm giving 
you a break telling you.  Now, what comes after that?"

"And then I'm supposed to¡­to¡­wiggle my bottom!  Ohhhh, sob!"

"Well, good, girl!  Now let's do it!  Attention!"

"Ohhh, uhh¡­th-thank you, Nancy, please give me stroke number¡­ooh¡­number 
two."

At this point I was torn.  "Torn how?" you might ask, "Torn because you 
wondered whether Jenny's punishment might be getting a bit too intense?"  
And I answer, no, not that.  I was very happy with the way Jenny's 
punishment was progressing, and I was looking forward to its continuing 
for the rest of her stay.  At this particular moment I was torn as to 
whether to pay most attention to the lovely sight of Jenny's lovely, 
big, bottom rising and spreading as she assumed the "posture", or to pay 
more attention to the expressions on her woeful face as she experienced 
the terrible humiliation of both the posture and the sentences she had 
to say.  I decided to watch her face, and, as it turned out, was richly 
rewarded.  Jenny's face expressed the deepest humiliated misery one 
could imagine, with tears in her big brown eyes and a tremble on her 
full lips, as she performed the lovely wiggle of here well-presented and 
well-marked posterior.

Whistle¡­Snap!  Nancy wasted no time in bringing the next severe stroke 
crashing into Jenny's poor bruised rump.  Jenny looked like a bucking 
bronco as she jerked her body in anguish, her hips plunging forward as 
if attempting escape from the sharp pain of the cane, her head jerking 
up and back, her long black ponytail flying, her big boobs swinging 
forward¡­

"Ahhhh!  Ow! Ow!  Ohhhhh!  It hurts!  Stop!" she screamed and sobbed.  
The white, vivid new stripe was just ABOVE the first stripe and 
perfectly parallel.  Nancy's initial pattern seemed to be to spread out, 
up and down, from the first stripe which had been painted right across 
the middle of Jenny's squirming, writhing butt.  Nancy really was a very 
skillful caner.  The stripes were raised and very closely spaced and an 
angry flush had developed around them.

Jenny was still moaning and groaning, trying to contain the fierce, 
stinging pain of the latest stroke, when Nancy said, "Attention, Jenny, 
attention!"  Jenny's bottom kept gyrating, but didn't seem to be heeding 
Nancy's call.  Ten seconds passed, and¡­

Whack!  The cane slashed down into the unprepared Jenny's rear end, 
painting yet another parallel stripe just below the lowest one already 
there.  Jenny's surprised gurgle was followed by a full throated scream 
and some enchantingly mad hip jerking.

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.

Chapter 7 - wherein Jenny tries on a new bra and discovers a new use for 
clothespins.

"Hmmm," answered Nancy, "your breasts DO seem to be quite sensitive.  
That's good.  How about your nipples?"

"No!  Nancy, please, they're too¡­Owwwww!"

It was too late, Nancy administered a wicked pinch to the nipple of the 
same breast.

"My goodness, Jenny," observed Nancy, "your nipples are very sensitive 
too!  I think I'm going to enjoy our little session this evening."

Nancy went to the wall to retrieve a special item she had in mind for 
Jenny.  It was her own invention, made with a little help from me and 
from Dave. It consisted of two thin leather cuffs, fastenable with 
velcro and connected by a wooden bar about six inches long. 

She put one strap around the base of the right boob and pulled it quite 
tight before connecting the velcro pieces.  This had the marvelous 
effect of causing the breast, which was already very firm, to stand out 
from Jenny's chest and to assume the shape and approximate size of a 
honeydew melon.  Jenny squealed in protest, drawing a laugh from the 
rest of us.  

"It's a new type of wonderbra, Jenny." announced Nancy to her horrified 
victim, "Look at the wonderful uplift and ¡®outpush' it gives you."  
Meanwhile she fitted up the other breast in the same way, much to 
Jenny's dismay.

"Hmm, this really ¡®firms' you up, doesn't it, Jenny?  Look how tight the 
skin is, hmm¡­" and Nancy "thumped" the surface of the right breast, just 
as if it were a melon in the produce section. "Yes, QUITE firm."

The globes still had a touch of hang to them - they weren't perfectly at 
attention.  But Nancy had a solution for this.  She brought out two 
longer straps, with clips at both ends, and attached one strap to the 
top of the cuff on each breast.  She threaded these straps over Jenny's 
shoulders and let them hand down her back.  Then she pulled out one more 
strap.  This one had a clip on one end and a ring on the other.  It also 
could be adjusted for length.  She attached the ends of each of the 
over-the-shoulder straps to the ring, and then attached the clip on the 
end of the adjustable strap to the back of Jenny's g-string.

The straps were slack at this point, so this arrangement as yet had very 
little effect.  Now however, Nancy shortened the back strap until a dual 
effect was achieved.  The boobs were pulled upward until they were 
REALLY at attention, and the fabric of Jenny's g-string was also pulled 
upward, effectively giving her a "wedgie".  From the front the effect 
was to outline the plump pussy quite revealingly.  It must have been a 
bit uncomfortable, as was attested to by Jenny's little squeal when the 
strap was shortened.

The situation now was that Jenny's boobs were being held up by her 
crotch.  Do you think this might be a new fashion?  The boobs were also 
held apart by the bar.  Thus all surfaces were readily available for 
whatever attentions Nancy might want to give them.

Now Nancy returned from the wall with an implement that we have already 
gained familiarity with - the plastic fly-swatter.  She brandished it in 
front of her frightened victim.

"Remember the ¡®pink belly', Jenny?  How about ¡®pink boobies'?  Huh?  
What do you think of that?"

"N-no!  Please!  They're very sensitive.  You'll hurt me too much!"

"You must be feeling a lot of guilt about all the things you stole.  
Well I'm going to help you ¡®get it off your chest'. Ha, ha!"

Nancy wasted no time.  Splat!  "Owww!"  Splat! "Owww!"  Splat! 
"Owwwwwww!"

Three quick, sharp blows attacked the top of the left breast.  The 
¡®melon' bounced up and down with each blow and a red flush quickly 
appeared on the delicate skin.  The stinging pain made the yelling 
Jenny's feet come up and she found herself swinging by her wrists, 
trying to reconnect her feet and the floor.

Nancy continued to smack the same area of skin, her strategy was 
apparently to cause a buildup of pain in one small area at a time.  It 
seemed to be effective, because Jenny became almost hysterical before 
Nancy finally paused after about ten strokes.  The ¡®push-up bra' that 
Jenny was wearing produced a great degree of firmness in the targeted 
organ, thus the strokes were received with resilience and ¡®pop'.  The 
rapid bouncing of the spherical mass of flesh was an amusing sidelight 
to the proceedings.

Jenny begged piteously between sobs for Nancy to stop.  Unfortunately 
for her, her pleas were in vain.

Nancy resumed her work.  Still working on the same breast, she now 
delivered a series of sharp smacks to the outer side surface.  These 
seemed to be just as unpleasant as the others had been for poor Jenny, 
and the skin rapidly became reddened as Jenny yelled out on each stroke.  
This time the force of the blows cause the breast globe to bounce into 
its neighbor, in spite of the artificial distance between them imposed 
by the separating bar.  Again Jenny lost her footing and dangled 
amusingly from the straps above her, her distorted boobs wobbling.

Nancy waited patiently for Jenny to find her footing again.  Now she 
began a series of smacks to the underside of the same breast.  The 
effect was amusing to us as it was painful and embarrassing to Jenny.  
However, Nancy seemed troubled.

"I can't swing as well from this angle.  Will you help me, Timmy?"

Timmy seemed to know what Nancy had in mind.  He got up from his chair 
and approached the sorrowful Jenny.

"No!  Don't let him touch me!  It's not decent!" as Timmy's hand 
approached Jenny's left tit.

He grabbed the nipple of the breast under attention and pulled upward, 
bringing the undersurface into easier view and access, and drawing a 
gasp from Jenny.

"That's much better!  Thank you, Timmy!" said Nancy, "See, Jenny?  I can 
get a better swing this way.  Look how nice and white the skin is¡­for 
the moment."

  Nancy resumed her smacking with more impact this time and poor Jenny 
could only yell and moan and cry, both of which she did with great 
enthusiasm.  Since the unfortunate breast was now pushed back up against 
her upper chest and shoulder, it wasn't able to "roll with the punches" 
like it had been doing previously.  This added another level to the 
discomfort that Jenny was experiencing, as well as producing a more 
satisfying solidity to the smacking sounds that we were all enjoying.

Actually, the strap around the base of poor Jenny's breast caused it to 
be so firm that it tended to bounce off her chest with each swat, like a 
volleyball, producing a challenge for Timmy to hang on to the 
nipple/handle.  In fact one particularly lusty swat made it bounce right 
out of his grip.  When he recovered the nipple again, he gripped it much 
harder than before, drawing an agonized yelp from our lovely culprit.

Nancy is a very thorough and methodical girl.  She made sure that every 
inch of  Jenny's bulbous left breast was thoroughly reddened and 
thoroughly stinging and throbbing.  She wasn't dissuaded in the least by 
Jenny's pitiful pleading and crying and yelping and squealing.  In fact, 
it seemed music to her ears, helping to concentrate on doing a good job.

Actually, she didn't cover ALL of the surface of the lovely melon.  She 
carefully avoided smacking the nipple or the aureole.  Very curious!  
Was she being merciful?  I suspected otherwise.

Nancy asked, in an obviously insincere tone of concern, "Well, how is 
the little boobie, Jenny?  Is it a bit sore?" as she playfully patted 
and pinched the skin, drawing yelps and squeaks from the unfortunate 
teenager.

Nancy then turned her attention to Jenny's as yet still pale white right 
breast.  In the same fashion she slowly turned it a bright red, again 
getting help from Timmy on gaining better access to the undersurface.  
Nancy was just as methodical as before and it took another five minutes 
before she was satisfied, five minutes that must have seemed like an 
hour to poor Jenny, who yelled with each blow to punctuate her 
continuous sobbing and moaning.  Occasionally, for variety, she would 
beg for mercy or promise fervently that she would never, EVER, steal 
again.

Again Nancy carefully avoided the nipple area.  Jenny was again on the 
verge of hysterics before Nancy decided she was finished, at least with 
this stage.

Nancy paused, gazing in a pleased manner on the reddened globes bobbing 
before her.  The only sound was Jenny's more or less continuous weeping 
and moaning over the fate of her beloved breasts, the red tops of which 
now glistened with her tears, and which must have been causing her 
considerable pain.  I had to admit that they WERE being treated rather 
rudely.  However, what Jenny probably DIDN'T realize was that this was 
just stage one.

"Feeling a bit more repentant now, Jenny?" asked Nancy with a cruel 
smile.

"Y-Yes¡­" came the hesitant answer.

"Good, good!  Well, let's see.  Do you think you've had enough for 
today?"

"Ohhhh y-y-ess!  P-please, Nancy!  I'll ALWAYS be good, from now on."

"Hmmm.  Well, as much as I'd LIKE to spare your tender little breasties 
any more suffering, I'm afraid we have to continue, in order to make 
SURE that you're never bad again."

"Ohhh, No!  No!  No more!  They're SO sore already.  I couldn't¡­I just 
COULDN'T stand anymore!!" Jenny babbled desperately.

"Tell me, Jenny dear, are your nipples even MORE sensitive than the 
parts I've BEEN paddling?"

"M-my n-n-n-¡­?"

"That's NIPPLES, Jenny." said and helpful Nancy .

From the look of surprise and horror on her face, it appeared that Jenny 
had perhaps entertained the hope that her nipples were to be spared.  
After all, Nancy HAD been avoiding them, and surely NO ONE would be 
cruel enough to smack THEM, since they were so sensitive and delicate 
and all.

Nancy continued, "Yes, I was wondering just how sensitive they were.  I 
think I'd like to find out, and anyway, it doesn't look right.  With the 
rest of your titties so red, your nipples should be a bit darker, don't 
you think?"

"Nancy, n-n-o, you wouldn't¡­"

Smack! "Yeowwwww!" Nancy dealt the nipple of the left breast a sharp 
smack with the fly swatter.  The fleshy mound compressed and rebounded 
admirably.

Smack! "Agggggh!!" The same nipple, but this time Jenny attempted to 
push Nancy away from her with her feet.  It was fairly ineffectual, but 
it was also insubordinate.

Nancy was miffed, "Ah, ah! Jenny!  That's going to add up to some hefty 
demerits!  Dad, Timmy, would you tie her feet for me, please?"

Dave and Timmy quickly secured Jenny's feet to the floor, where she was 
left still balancing on the ball's of those same feet.

Nancy dealt the poor nipple three more harsh smacks, drawing agonized 
yells with each one.  Gradually the color of the nipple and surrounding 
area was getting darker.

"How is it, Jenny?  Getting a bit sore?" Nancy smirked as she playfully 
whisked the tip of the fly swatter up and down across the darkening nub, 
bringing winces of pain with each whisk.

Smack!  Another hefty stroke, but it missed its mark, hitting the breast 
just below the aureole.  The reason was that Timmy had mischievously 
sneaked behind Jenny and pulled on the strap for the left boob at the 
precise moment, as if it were a puppet on a string.  It was quite 
amusing, even to Nancy, although Jenny seemed horribly embarrassed as 
Timmy continued to make both boobs flop up and down in a mad rhythm.

"Very funny, Timmy!" observed Nancy, "Now please give it a rest, OK?"

Timmy reclaimed his seat and Nancy continued to belabor the now dark and 
swollen nipple, paying little or no attention to Jenny's pitiful yells 
and yelps and sobs which gradually increased in intensity as Nancy sent 
stroke after stroke smacking into that most sensitive area.  Each stroke 
produced a very satisfying smacking sound and a bouncing rebound of the 
fettered breast.  The pain seemed to be becoming almost more than poor 
Jenny could bear just when Nancy stopped.

"Ohhh! It hurrrrts!  Oh! Oh!" Jenny continued to moan, writhe, and sob.

Observing with pride the results of her handiwork, Nancy said, "Well, 
that certainly is an improvement.  Don't you think so, Jenny?  Look how 
much nicer your nipple goes with the rest of your titty now that it's a 
much darker color."

Indeed, the nipple and surrounding area were almost purple now, and 
looked very fetching.  However, Jenny seemed unable to produce a 
coherent answer to Nancy's question, which was admittedly rhetorical.

Nancy continued, "Now, lets see about this OTHER nipple¡­"

This woke Jenny up a bit.  "No!  Please, no more!   No more!  I'll do 
anything if you'll please stop!  I can't s-stand it!" shaking her head 
in anticipation of more stinging, throbbing pain.

"But, Jenny, you wouldn't want me to leave things in such an unbalanced 
state, would you?  I wouldn't feel like I had done a good job, and after 
all, this IS for your own good, you know." Nancy taunted, meanwhile 
giving threatening pats to the right nipple with the dreaded fly 
swatter.

Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Three swift, crisp, sharp blows rained down on 
the surprised and defenseless nipple.  Jenny screamed and threw her head 
back in sudden pain.

Remorselessly,  Nancy dealt out the full measure of punishment to 
Jenny's sensitive but oh so prominent right nipple.  Jenny jerked, 
writhed, screamed and wept, and her boobs bounced wildly in all 
directions, much to our enjoyment.  It was all to no avail - the 
smacking continued.

When Nancy finally stopped the poor right nipple looked much like its 
neighbor - swollen, raw, and tending toward the purple.  Jenny was in 
quite a bit of pain but was nevertheless very obviously relieved now 
that a very sensitive part of her body was no longer under direct 
attack.  Perhaps she thought that we were through for the evening.

Nancy seemed concerned, "Gosh, Jenny, you seem to be feeling 
uncomfortable.  Do your titties hurt?"

"Ohhh yes!  Oh they hurt SO much!" Jenny answered although she really 
seemed barely conscious of her surroundings.

"Here, let's set them free." Nancy said as she undid the velcro on the 
straps that were so cruelly constricting Jenny's breasts.  The lovely 
mounds flowed back to their normal, beautiful shapes, the only 
difference now being the coloring.  Jenny moaned as she felt the blood 
rushing back into mistreated tissues.

Nancy removed the rest of the now pointless straps and then retrieved a 
box from a shelf.  It was full of clothespins.  Jenny became more alert 
as she saw Nancy set this box down on a little table next to her.

"What are you¡­what are those f-for?" sniffed Jenny in a fearful voice.

"Well, Jenny, dear, these are clothespins with especially powerful 
springs.  Why don't you guess what they're for?" Nancy smiled cruelly, 
holding up one of the menacing devices and opening and closing it in 
front of Jenny's terrified eyes.

Another slightly unusual thing about the pin that Nancy was holding was 
that it had been fitted with a small metal ring on one of the gripping 
ends.  In fact all of the pins had been thus altered.  Please be 
patient, dear reader, and I will fill you in on the purpose for these 
rings at the proper time.

Nancy asked Timmy, "Will you help me again, brother dear?" and Timmy 
eagerly rose from his seat to be of assistance.  I took this 
opportunity, since I was sitting next to Dave, to reach into his nearest 
pants pocket and start toying with his erect penis.  He seemed very 
appreciative!

Without further delay, Nancy attached the clothespin to the top of 
Jenny's left breast, right up against her chest bone.  It seemed to be 
fairly painful, and Jenny gasped and sighed, trying to contain the 
sensations it was providing her.

Before she had figured out how to endure the first one, a second had 
been attached, again up against her chest, but at about 1:30.  Jenny 
started whimpering just as Nancy briskly clipped on the third, at about 
3:00.  She continued in this fashion, making a circle of the base of the 
sensitive, aching boob.  Timmy help by lifting it up by the nipple when 
Nancy was attaching pins to the under surface.

"Ohh!  They're hurting me!  Ohhh!  Ow!  Ow!  Please, take them off!" 
Jenny kept begging and crying, each new clothespin adding a slightly 
higher pitch to her voice.

When a full circle of pins had been established, Nancy began a second 
circle, about an inch out from the first one, and she attached these 
pins exactly the same, at 0 degrees, 45 degrees, 90 degrees, etc.  The 
poor breast was beginning to look very amusing, like a bristly 
porcupine.  One interesting effect of this system was that as the 
circles got closer to the nipple area, the circumferences became 
smaller, while the same number of pins went into each round trip.  Thus 
the pins got closer together the closer they got to the ultra sensitive 
aureole.  The last ring of pins clipped the edges of the aureole and 
seemed almost excruciating to poor Jenny. 

Nancy and Timmy toyed with Jenny a bit by "ruffling" the clothespins 
that were already biting so cruelly into her tender flesh.  This made 
her cry out in a high pitched voice, "Owwwwwww!  Ow!  Ow! Stop!" and 
throw her head back in pain.  Nancy and Timmy giggled excitedly as they 
continued tormenting their victim.  Timmy got some especially loud 
responses by taking one of the pins closest to the nipple and giving it 
some sharp tweaks.  I was so happy to see Timmy and Nancy getting along 
so well.

For the aureole, Nancy pulled out a plastic bag that contained smaller 
clothespins made of plastic.  These were truly nasty little items.  They 
were, if anything, more powerful in their gripping abilities than the 
regular sized ones.  After teasing poor Jenny for a few moments, holding 
one of the little clips open over a threatened fold of sensitive reddish 
brown flesh, Nancy finally allowed the pin to bite down with full force.  
Jenny seemed about ready to pull her straps out of their foundations, 
and her scream of agony was truly something to hear.  At first she 
writhed jerked her body, causing both breasts to bounce around, but she 
soon realized that this caused her even more pain, and she managed to 
slow herself down a bit.

It took just a couple of minutes to put two concentric rings of the very 
unfriendly little critters on the center part of Jenny's poor left 
breast, but it must have seemed a lot longer to her.  Each new pin was 
fresh torment, yet more "unbearable" pain and humiliation for the pretty 
young teenager.  And through her pain, she must have been aware of the 
ultimate destination that Nancy was heading for - the nipple itself.  
The present pain must have been equaled by the fear of the even greater 
pain that these nasty little devices could cause when attached to that 
sensitive bud.

However, the little clothespins weren't destined for Jenny's lovely 
nipple.  Instead, Nancy pulled out one of the regular sized ones that 
had had its grip strengthened through clever use of rubber bands.  
Remember, these were especially strong springs to begin with.  Nancy 
seemed have to really squeeze hard to open it.  As soon as she had, she 
happily attached it to the sensitive morsel of Jenny's nipple.

Jenny gasped and squealed and begged as she felt the greed pin biting 
down on that very sensitive spot.  The clip was so strong that her 
nipple was almost completely flattened, and she seemed to be in 
tremendous pain. Jenny moaned and cried and rolled her head.

"Would you like me to take them off, Jenny?"

"Please!  Please take them off!"

"Well, it's good to know what you want - that's a first step.  And you 
WILL get your wish, Jenny, dear, but not just yet.  First we have to do 
the other little boobie!" Nancy answered with a cruel laugh and a wink 
to the rest of us.

"No!  Please no!  I'll be good!  I'll d-do anything."

Nancy paused a second, with a clothespin poised to bite greedily into 
Jenny's luscious right breast.

"Anything?" she asked.

Jenny seemed taken aback by that question, and couldn't answer.

"Well, we'll explore THAT avenue later."  Said Nancy, "Meanwhile¡­"

She attached the first pin and Jenny squealed wonderfully.

Things went pretty much the same with the second tit as they did with 
the first, and while it might be boring to describe it, it was 
nevertheless a wonderful few minutes to watch and listen, as Jenny 
responded just as enthusiastically as before.  There were a few pauses 
for Timmy and Nancy to do some "ruffling" of the already attached 
clothespins, on both breasts, but remorselessly the second breast 
gradually grew its own set of bristles, including the marvelously 
sensitive and now very sore right aureole and with another extra 
strength pin for the nipple, and.  Jenny was beside herself with pain 
and embarrassment, but we all thought she looked quite fetching.

We took a brief break and I passed around refreshments to my family 
members.  I even gave Jenny a few sips of wine, to help bolster her 
flagging spirits.  She seemed a bit depressed, poor thing, and really in 
quite a bit of discomfort.  I took care to give the clip on her left 
nipple a little twist after she sipped her wine, and was rewarded with a 
strangled gurgle.

As anyone knows who has spent much time disciplining young girls, the 
breasts provide excellent ways of inducing humiliation and pain - which 
is, of course, the whole point.  One rather enjoyable diversion, enjoyed 
greatly by men I'm sure, and which is quite humiliating but not terribly 
painful, is to require the culprit to cause her own breasts to bounce or 
swing about.  This can be especially effective and rewarding when the 
girl in question is blessed with such large tits as Jenny possesses and 
is a very shy and modest girl such as Jenny is.

Like many of your readers, I prefer disciplines which are both 
humiliating AND painful.  Well what could be more painful than a poor 
girl whose breasts are already covered with very painful pinching 
devices being forced to bounce them up and down and swing them round and 
round?  This is exactly what we did with poor Jenny, and the results 
were highly entertaining.  

At first she refused, but it only took one tap from the judicial cane on 
her g-string covered cunt to convince her to obey.  I took note of this 
since it implied an exquisitely sensitive pussy if she would prefer to 
cause her breasts a great deal more pain from her own actions rather 
than risk even the lightest of attacks on her female organ.

Thus we were treated to some wonderful sights and sounds as we enjoyed 
our snacks.  We made Jenny flop her breasts up and down, and then swing 
them around in circles, first clockwise then counter-clockwise.  The 
sight of those huge boobs covered with clothespins swinging and bouncing 
every which way was definitely not to be missed, and added to this were 
the yelps and squeals and moans and wails of pain and mortification as 
the already rudely biting clothespins and  wreaked even more havoc on 
those tender organs.  At one point in mid-swing, one of the clothespins 
from the undersurface of the right breast was pulled loose and fell to 
the floor.  Jenny announced this with a surprised and agonized series of 
yells, "Aggggh!  Oh!  Oh!  Owwwww!"  Obviously, this hurt quite a bit.

If you readers would like to test this out, try attaching an ordinary 
spring type clothespin to some fleshy part that isn't especially 
sensitive.  For instance, your belly, perhaps, but definitely NOT a 
nipple!  You'll most likely notice that the pin causes a bit of pain, 
but that it's nothing you can't bear.  Now try yanking the clothespin 
off, without opening it.  Hurts, doesn't it?  Imagine if it had been on 
your breast and if it had been an extra strength pin, such as Jenny's 
were.  Poor girl!

Dave, ever the gallant, made quick to retrieve the pin and to carefully 
replace it, and he clearly enjoyed the process quite a bit, feasting his 
tactile senses on Jenny's wonderful breast and his visual senses on 
Jenny's horrified and pain-filled eyes.  He couldn't resist a little 
tweak on the clip that was so rudely attached to her nipple, drawing an 
amusing yelp from our victim.

Nancy was finished with her snack and ready for more action.  She walked 
up to Jenny, and, in a tone of fake concern, said, "Those must be 
hurting quite a bit, huh, Jenny?", ruffling the clothespins on both 
breasts.

"Ow!  Owwww!  Yes, they REALLY hurt BAD!  Please PLEASE take them off!"

"Ok, Jenny, dear, we'll take them off.  And this is how we'll do it."

From the bottom of the box that the clothespins came in, Nancy pulled 
out a long string with clip hooks attached, one every six inches or so.  
She picked the hook at one end of the string and clipped it onto the 
ring on the clothespin that was the last one she attached - the extra 
tight one on Jenny's right nipple.

"W-what are you, OW!, doing?  Ouch!" Jenny grimaced in pain with each 
jostle of the cruel pins.  She watched the interesting proceedings with 
fear in her lovely dark eyes.  

One by one all of the pins on Jenny's right breast were attached to a 
hook on the string.  Again Timmy came to Nancy's aid for the clothespins 
UNDERNEATH Jenny's breast, only this time he held the breast up by the 
clothespin attached to poor, aching nipple.  Getting a new string, Jenny 
performed the same operation on Jenny's left breast, starting with the 
nipple and working down to the base.

Nancy stepped back a few feet with the ends of both strings in her hand.  
Each string extended from her hand to a clothespin on the top of and at 
the base of its respective reddened breast.  Playfully she tugged 
lightly on both, drawing a whimper of pain and fear from Jenny, who most 
likely had a pretty good idea of what was coming.

Now Nancy began to pull steadily on the string attached to the left 
breast, at first lightly, and then with gradually increasing strength, 
causing the first clothespin to pull painfully on the breast skin, 
stretching a fold of it rudely.

Jenny moaned with the mounting pain, and begged, "Oh, Nancy.  Please, 
don't!  Please, don't."

Chapter 8 - wherein Nancy kindly removes some clothespins, Jenny 
provides the family some more interesting television viewing, and the 
"British Schoolgirl" makes her appearance.


If anything, her begging had the opposite effect of the intended.  Nancy 
gave a little yank, pulling the pin roughly from the tender skin and 
apparently sending and extremely sharp message of pain from the breast 
to Jenny's brain.

"Auuuugggh!" Jenny threw her head back and yelled.

Yank!  Another pin came off, this time from the other breast.  
"Aggggghhhh!"

"Well, Jenny." said Nancy, "What do you prefer?  Should I keep going 
slowly, or should I get it over with and pull them all off really fast?" 
giving playful little tugs on the second clothespin on the left breast.

Jenny was almost in too much pain from the previous two pins being 
pulled off to hear what Nancy was saying, but finally she got the gist 
of it.

"Ohhh!  No!  No more!  It's TOO MUCH!  PLEASE!" she begged, looking so 
cute in her wooden bra, pleading shaking her head back and forth.

"Since you didn't choose, I'll take that to mean you don't care.  Hmm, 
let's see, I think we'll try the fast method for a change."

"Nooooo, don't!"

But it was no use.  Nancy first dropped the left string and then pulled 
long and hard on the right string, hand over hand, pulling in extremely 
rapid fashion all of the pins from the poor, pained, left breast right 
up to the small ones on the aureole.  Jenny just about jumped out of her 
skin, and would have I guess if it had been anatomically possible.  Her 
screams of anguish were awe inspiring and rose, admirably, in pitch as 
the pain neared her nipple area.  I began to think she might have 
operatic potential.

Jenny yelled and moaned and cried for a good ten seconds as the pain 
remained extremely intense for that long after the most recent 
clothespin had been pulled off.

"There!" said Nancy, "That must be quite a relief!" at which we all 
shared a laugh at poor Jenny's expense.  

The newly depinned left breast was looking very interesting.  Each 
clothespin had left an angry mark of a deep, almost purplish, red, over 
the general flush of the entire surface that came from the "pink boobie" 
treatment.  The pain resulting from having them suddenly yanked off 
seemed to be quite persistent, as Jenny couldn't seem to stop moaning 
and sighing.

Nancy relinquished the string she was holding and picked up the one 
attached to the right breast.  She lightly tugged on the first 
clothespin attached at the base.  Jenny faintly moaned, "Noooo¡­.Noooo¡­"

Yank!  "Aggh!  Ow!  Ow!"  One pin popped off.

Yank!  "Owwww!  Ohhh!  Stop!"  The second.

With a glint in her eye Nancy continued, popping off one clothespin at a 
time, allowing enough time between each for Jenny to fully appreciate 
the very interesting sensations she was being treated to.  With each 
yank Jenny reacted with agonized exclamations of sudden, sharp pain.  
After a few, Jenny started begging desperately, anytime she could find 
her voice, for Nancy to stop - in vain of course.

At last the last of the string of regular sized clothespins was cruelly 
yanked off, leaving Jenny's right breast in more or less the same 
situation as the right - that is with nothing but the very cruel little 
clips on her aureole and nipple, looking like some kind of bristly 
blossom.  The breasts themselves were in fairly pitiful condition - 
basically a flushed bright red decorated with polka-dots of dark 
purplish red.  Jenny looked with horrified eyes at the altered 
appearance of her beloved bosom as she continued to sigh and moan with 
the burning, aching pain.

Nancy picked up the string attached to the aureole of the left breast 
and, holding both like a set of reins, she proceeded to pull lightly on 
them until each of the two clothespins that they were attached two was 
pulled out tautly from the breast, cruelly pulling on the sensitive skin 
that it was biting into.  Jenny squealed and moaned pathetically.

"Well, Jenny, old girl, I guess you know what's next¡­the best part!" 
said heartless Nancy as she began lightly shaking the two strings, 
causing the breasts to bob up and down and causing poor Jenny to yell in 
pain and beg pitifully for mercy.

Gradually Nancy increased the force that she was exerting on the two 
strings, stretching even further the sensitive aureole skin and bringing 
Jenny's moans a notch or two higher in pitch.

"Boy, these little ones really hold on tight!" Nancy observed, "I'll bet 
they REALLY hurt when they finally come off!"  Suddenly she yanked quite 
hard on the string attached to the left breast, pulling the mean little 
clothespin loose and drawing a long, loud scream from darling Jenny and 
leaving a little purple mark on the wrinkled aureole flesh.

"Ahhhhhghhh!  Oh no!  Nooo!  Owwwww!"

Yank!  Another little clothespin popped off and Jenny's begging was 
replaced by another high-pitched scream.  I became very thankful that we 
were quite far from neighbors or any curious ears.  The tears were 
simple flowing our of her eyes and her sobs were heart-breaking.  I 
couldn't help being very proud of my daughter Nancy.  She was making 
great use of Jenny's fine breasts to impart a serious, 
not-soon-to-be-forgotten lesson

Nancy again indulged herself with a few little teasing, tormenting tugs 
on the right breast, producing little grunts of pain from the teary 
victim.  Yank!  Suddenly the pin popped off and we were treated to 
another operatic high note from Jenny as she writhed with the sharp 
pain.

Before pulling off the next one, back on the left breast again, this 
time Nancy tried a little swinging action as she tugged, causing the 
suffering breast to be swung around, causing some apparently very 
disagreeable sensations, perhaps caused as much by the flopping around 
of the very tight pin on Jenny's poor nipple as by the tugging on the 
aureol.

This went on, of course.  Nancy knew how to take her time and enjoy 
herself, and I have to say that none us became bored.  Jenny seemed to 
have an endless supply of yelps, screams, yells, cries and moans, of 
infinite variety, and we appreciated them all; and Nancy exercised a lot 
of creativity herself - sometimes suddenly yanking loose a clothespin, 
sometimes giving playful tugs before hand, sometimes pulling gradually 
harder and harder, increasing poor Jenny's pain, until the clothespin 
pulled loose.  Also greatly enjoyed by all were the ceaseless gyrations 
of Jenny's stunningly beautiful, almost naked body. Eventually, however, 
all of the small clothespins had been pulled off and there only remained 
the two "super-grippers" on her nipples.  By this time Jenny was close 
to hysterical with humiliation and pain.  Her aureoles were now gaily 
decorated with many painful looking purplish red marks.

"Almost finished, Jenny, dear!" announced Nancy as she tightened both 
strings, causing the fiercely biting clothespins to stand out from the 
centers of Jenny's much-abused breasts.  Jenny moaned and cried as she 
felt the pain in her nipples increase, but she seemed to be beyond any 
rational discourse at this point.

Nancy started pulling harder on both strings, with the apparent 
intention of causing both clothespins to pop off either at once or close 
to it.  But these were really on tight.  The effect of her pulling was 
for sadly mistreated nipples to be stretched most cruelly out from the 
breasts, until they were almost twice there normal length.  Nancy was 
pulling at just about full strength and was leaning backwards.  
Effectively, she was being held up by Jenny's nipples!  Alas, it 
appeared that the clothespins were more than a match for Nancy's 
strength.

They seemed to be also more than a match for what little fortitude Jenny 
may have possessed.  The poor girl began screaming hysterically with the 
intense and increasing pain, looking quite lovely as she did so, I might 
add.

But there was no reason to worry, because we are a family that believes 
in teamwork.  One nod from Nancy and the rest of us rose, approached the 
scene of action and pitched in.  The result was that Nancy and I 
commanded the string attached to the right breast and Dave and Timmy 
took charge of the other.  It didn't take long before the much 
anticipated event occurred, or, I should say, events.  But it was really 
just one EVENT, because both clothespins popped off, after some very 
hefty pulling, at the same time.

Jenny shrieked like a banshee, and fainted, hanging limply by her 
wrists, her body glistening with sweat and tears.  It seemed wrong to me 
that she should be missing out on the full appreciation of this 
experience, so I quickly obtained some smelling salts from the shelf and 
held them under her nose.  In no time she awakened and shortly 
thereafter became reacquainted with the painful condition of her breasts 
and nipples, and began crying hysterically.

To ensure that she drank in the full experience, I thoughtfully flicked 
her nipples with my forefingers, drawing anguished yelps.  "Are your 
little nips sore, darling?" I asked.  She didn't seem desirous of 
entering into conversation.

I noticed that Nancy was standing beside me, quietly observing Jenny and 
her gaily colored boobs with and air of placid satisfaction.  We shared 
a mother/daughter smile, and I said, "You did a wonderful job, Nancy."

"Thanks, Mom!" and she gave me a wonderful hug.

Meanwhile, Dave and Timmy were unfastening Jenny's wrist cuffs.  As soon 
as their support was removed, Jenny's knees gave out and she collapsed 
into my arms.  Unfortunately for her this caused her very sore and 
tender tits to be crushed against me and she gave out a weak little 
yelp.  With a little help from Dave I managed to flop her down into and 
easy chair.

"Mom, why don't we put some soothing salve on Jenny's poor little tits?" 
Nancy asked.

"I believe I have just the right stuff for young Jenny." I answered as I 
got a jar out of a drawer in the wall.  What was in the jar was a 
special concoction of Dave's.  It looked just like cold cream, and, at 
first, that's just what it felt like - very soothing no doubt to a pair 
of mistreated breasts.  I suspect that not many of your readers, dear 
professor, expect that this special concoction is as innocent as it 
seems.  I confess that they are right.  About a minute after application 
the treated area starts to become very hot, and the heat grows in 
intensity until it is all but unbearable.  Naturally, areas with lots of 
nerve endings were especially susceptible. 

I put on a pair of rubber gloves and applied the cream to Jenny's 
breasts.  I had to use a lot of the stuff because there was such a great 
deal of surface area.  Jenny really was kind of out of it, because she 
didn't really seem to fully aware of what I was doing, although she did 
seem to enjoy, in a dreamy way, the initially soothing effect.  I 
applied the cream very thoroughly, because that's the kind of person I 
am, especially on Jenny's nipple areas, taking care to rub it well into 
the skin.  This last operation woke Jenny up a bit as I rubbed and 
massaged her sensitive and sore nipples.  I'm afraid I couldn't resist 
giving each of them a sharp little tweak, producing an amusing yelp, 
before leaving them alone.

Gradually, Jenny began to come to her senses, about the same time that 
the salve started getting a bit nasty.  

"Ohhhh!  They're burning!  Ow!" were the first words out of her lovely 
mouth.  She began to rub her breasts in a vain attempt to comfort them, 
but this only accelerated the effects of the salve.  As the burning 
increased she started panicking.

"Ah!  Ahhh!  Ohhh!  Ohhh!  Oh, help!  They're bur-r-r-rning!" she began 
to shake them about - it seemed that the air gave them just a little bit 
of relief.  The effect was quite amusing and satisfying.  She rolled out 
of the chair and onto her back on the floor, writhing in agony, her 
scarlet and purple breasts flopping back and forth with her gyrations.  
Gradually the burning and her strength waned and she again passed into a 
sort of faint.

We helped her up to her room and dumped her on her bed, a forlorn young 
girl who now had boobs that were almost a colorful as her bottom had 
been two nights before.  And her bottom was still pretty colorful in its 
own right.  She rolled right over on her back, to take pressure off of 
her sore tits.

We "tuned in" on the TV monitor downstairs, not expecting much since 
Jenny hadn't done any "self-pleasuring" since before the first session.  
However, we were pleasantly surprised.  Even as she wept for the sad 
state of her twin "big treasures", her right hand stole down to her 
furry, plump "little treasure" and began softly caressing it.  It wasn't 
long before she was moaning and groaning in ecstasy instead of pain.  It 
was a great show, which we dubbed "The Purple Breasted Mattress 
Thrasher".  Naturally it was recorded.

After her orgasm died down the pain in her boobs seemed to reassert 
itself and she massaged them oh so tenderly as she gradually fell into 
an exhausted sleep.  The family went to bed as well, but I can 
definitely tell you that Dave and I did NOT go to sleep for a long time.  
I suspect that Nancy and Timmy were awake for a while at least.  Yes the 
evening had been quite stimulating!  And it was wonderful to realize 
that there was so much fun still to come.

The next morning Jenny found a slightly different costume to wear.  
Similar to the days before, there were two items of clothing, but, 
instead of a g-string and a halter top, this time it was a g-string and 
a pair of shorts - nothing to cover her beloved breasts.  I provided the 
shorts simply to emphasize by contrast the nakedness of her breasts.

Breakfast was yet another ordeal for the poor, sensitive, modest girl.  
Her breasts had become two Technicolor beacons, covering almost the 
entire color spectrum, every color, it seemed, except for their original 
white.  They also appeared to be quite sore, since she winced whenever 
any movement of hers caused them to bounce or jiggle in the slightest.  
Her nipples especially were swollen and purple, along with the aureols.

If you remember, the day after we attended to Jenny's big bottom Nancy 
and Timmy were given permission to torment it through the day in various 
ways.  Well, this day was the same for her boobs.  Timmy and Nancy were 
allowed to pinch and tweak them as much as they wanted.  Dave helped 
them rig up a little "leash" with some light leather strap and two clips 
for Jenny's nipples.  Even though these clips were not terribly wicked, 
Jenny's sore and swollen nipples could barely tolerate them  In 
addition, they tightened when pulled, to ensure that Jenny would 
instantly follow wherever she was led.  The kids made her crawl around 
the house on all fours, yanking cruelly on the leash whenever she 
dawdled.  Sometimes Timmy would walk behind her and encourage her with a 
playful toe tapping her between the legs.  It was pretty clear where his 
interests lay!

I could tell that Timmy was getting more and more excited, because the 
next night was to be HIS night.  Yes, it's true that he already had had 
a wonderful time tormenting his sister Nancy on two other occasions, but 
for him it was ten times more wonderful to think of having his lovely, 
unattainable, cousin Jenny at his mercy.  Now he was like a kid that 
couldn't wait for Christmas.  My guess was he probably wouldn't sleep at 
all this coming night, the poor kid.  I really felt for him!

After supper, during which Jenny ate hardly a bite and the rest of us 
enjoyed looking at her most interesting breasts, Timmy and Dave retired 
to the workshop/punishment room to make final preparations for the 
following night.

We made Jenny wash the dishes, thinking it might be amusing to have a 
topless dishwasher, and Nancy and I stayed in the kitchen to watch her 
at her work.  After she finished I gave her permission to go to her 
room, but she seemed to want to talk, and I sensed that she very much 
preferred it to be between just her and me.  I sent Nancy off to watch 
TV and I said, "What's the matter, Jenny?"

As she fumbled for words I indicated a chair at the kitchen table.  She 
sat, but winced a bit as her bottom made initial contact.  Evidently 
four days wasn't quite enough to heal from the rather rough treatment we 
had given it!  Meanwhile I enjoyed the thought of having a 
heart-to-heart talk with a bare-breasted niece.

"I¡­I¡­.w-well, that is¡­Oh, Aunt Marge, I know I've deserved to be 
punished, but I've been  punished already - haven't I?  And I've been so 
embarrassed in front of Timmy and Uncle Dave.  I know that I am supposed 
to, to, to h-have another session..but¡­haven't I had enough?  Couldn't 
you PLEASE let me off?  I promise I'll never steal anything ever again."

I thought for a second,  "Well, Jenny, do you really think you've been 
punished enough for what you've done to your family?"

Jenny seemed to realize that she had to be careful.  If she said that 
she HAD had enough, she knew that I might take this as evidence that she 
didn't realize the seriousness of her crimes.

"Ohhh!  I know it was VERY bad, and I deserve a great deal of 
punishment, but it's just that¡­that¡­"

"Out with it, girl!"

"Oh, I-I'm afraid of, what you'll do to me next, and I'm a-afraid that 
you'll make me be completely naked.  Oh, please tell me you're not going 
to make me completely naked?  Not in front of Timmy and Uncle Dave.  Oh, 
please, Aunt Marge!!"

"Why, Jenny, dear, you've already been just the next thing to completely 
naked.  What are you concerned about - a couple more square inches of 
skin?  Oh really, now!"

"Ohh, I just c-can't let them s-see me¡­d-down th-th¡­you know, see 
my¡­Ohh!"

"You mean your pussy, Jenny, dear?  You don't want Uncle Dave and Timmy 
to see your pussy?"

Jenny blushed furiously at this, and stared at the table, "Y-yes, that's 
it."

"Well, Jenny, dear, I'm afraid I have to continue with our policy here.  
I'm not going to tell you anything about what your session tomorrow will 
involve.  But surely you realize that Dave and Timmy have seen pussies 
before, and I'm sure yours is no different from the rest."

Jenny seemed to wince at each use of the word "pussy".  She was such a 
modest girl!

"Ohhh, Aunt Marge, couldn't  you whip my bottom some more?  I'll be good 
and stay in position and say everything you want me to say, and, and¡­"

"Tell, me, Jenny, is that all you're worried about - whether or not 
Uncle Dave and Timmy get a glimpse of your bush?"

"W-well I'm also w-worried about what you'll d-do t-to it¡­me¡­it.  I just 
couldn't stand it there, Aunt Marge.  I just couldn't!!!  It would hurt 
too much!!"

"Well, dear, I certainly agree that a girl's vulva is a very tender 
place, and if we did punish you there it probably WOULD hurt quite a 
bit."

Jenny allowed herself a glimmer of hope.  "You mean you w-won't punish 
me there?"

"Oh, no, Jenny, I said no such thing.  I'm not saying ANYTHING about 
tomorrow."

Jenny burst into tears.  "You couldn't!  You wouldn't!" she cried 
hysterically.

"Get ahold on yourself dear.  There, there, get along to bed.  Here, 
I'll break the rules just a bit and let you in on some good news.  Your 
little cousin Timmy will be the master of ceremonies for tomorrow night, 
and you know how much he likes you.  So there isn't really that much to 
fear after all, is there?"

Jenny was thunderstruck.  Apparently she had never considered that she 
might be subjected to the merciless cruelties of her young cousin.  Any 
teenage girl knows in her heart the dangers possible from twelve year 
old boys.  It stopped her tears and she stared at me in horror.

"N-no, n-not Timmy¡­you wouldn't let Timmy¡­oh you couldn't, could you?"

"Now, now, dear.  No need to get yourself into an uproar.  What do you 
think Timmy's going to do to you anyway?"

"I¡­he¡­I d-don't k-know¡­"

"See?  Let tomorrow take care of itself, dear.  Now, along to bed with 
you.  Go on¡­good night." And I watched the demoralized teen slink slowly 
from the kitchen.

I gathered Timmy and Dave from the workshop and we joined Nancy in the 
TV room.  We tune Jenny in, to see if there might be any fun.  We had 
the enjoyment of seeing the bare-breast youngster sitting on the bed and 
crying bitterly, but, instead of comforting herself as she had on other 
nights, she seemed to become lost in deep thought.  I suspected that she 
might be up to something.

Sure enough later that night we were awakened by the burglar alarm.   
Dave and I rushed downstairs to find young Jenny, dressed in only her 
shorts, attempting to climb out a window.  We carried the desperate 
girl, naked, mulitcolored breasts flopping, up to her room and locked 
her in.  Before we left her there I expressed my extreme disappointment 
and let her know that she had just added greatly to her demerit count.  
The despair painted on her face was wondrous to see!

When Jenny was awakened by the alarm the next morning, with me watching 
from the kitchen TV monitor, I could tell that her breasts had a ways to 
go to recover from Nancy's rather harsh treatment of them two nights 
before.  Bruises and discoloration abounded.  As she pulled herself out 
of bed, it was also apparent that they were still very sore and tender.  
Almost any motion that caused them to shift or swing about brought a 
wince to Jenny's lovely face. 

The clothing Jenny found laid out for her was probably quite a surprise.  
Instead of a couple of skimpy pieces of cloth, I had left her a complete 
Britlish schoolgirl's outfit, complete with skirt, jacket, tie, white 
socks, penny loafers, and regulation green knickers.  She seemed to 
hardly know what to do with this bounty, but finally she got the idea 
and dressed.  She looked absolutely scrumptious.  I wondered if she 
might have any idea of what kinds of evil ideas a costume such as that 
could engender in the mind of a teenage boy like Timmy, or of a terminal 
teenager in his thirties like Dave.

I figured she didn't have much of an idea, because her state of mind 
seemed improved.  I think that she was beginning to hope that her 
session with Timmy wasn't going to be so horribly embarrassing after 
all.  She probably figured that even a family such as ours had some 
limits to how improperly they might treat a naughty teenager.  She 
probably figured that all of her worries about the boys getting a look, 
and maybe even a feel, at her feminine parts were overblown - that she 
was perhaps out of the woods on that score.

Well, dear reader, what do YOU think?  Do you think Jenny's future for 
this day was to be quite so nice?  I think YOU know our family better 
than that!  Jenny was an example of the condemned person finding hope in 
the slightest thing - a drowning person clutching at straws.  She was in 
fact falling right into our plan, which involved repeated offers of hope 
for reprieve which was only to be miserably disappointed.

To keep Jenny even more in the dark, everyone made and effort to treat 
her very politely and with some deference.  This SHOULD have raise her 
suspicions, but it didn't appear to.  Instead, her spirits improved as 
the day wore on.  However, during supper, it was clear that some of her 
apprehensions were returning.  After all, there WAS going to be SOME 
kind of a session tonight, and we certainly hadn't been especially 
gentle with her or especially protective of her feminine modesty on the 
two previous sessions.

I said, in a calm voice, "Well, Jenny, dear, it's time for your last 
session, except of course for your demerit session which will be two 
days from today.  Congratulations on being almost finished with your 
training and punishment.  Now, please come with us into the workshop and 
will see about getting this over with."

Jenny's rose with difficulty.  Her conflicting emotions caused her knees 
to tremble.  Her lovely dark eyes were wide as saucers and her lip 
trembled.  Hope and fear battled within her breast, or, breasts, which, 
by the way, did a marvelous job of filling out her terrific outfit - in 
fact the buttons on her shirt at breast level seemed in some danger.  
And now they were rising and falling with fearful quick breathing.

We followed the worlds cutest schoolgirl as she walked unsteadily to 
meet her fate - and what a fate it was to be!

The only item that was uncovered in the workshop was the famous 
gynecological exam table that we had first used on Nancy, in "The Seat 
of Learning", and then later had Jenny on, on her hands and knees, to 
receive her caning from Nancy - the "hamster girl" session.  This time, 
however, the stirrups had been replaced, giving it that dreaded look 
that any teenager who has been to that certain type of doctor recognizes 
instantly.  Jenny almost fainted, and in fact would have fallen to the 
floor if I hadn't caught her.

All of her hopes were dashed in an instant!

"Oh no!  No!  No!" she screamed, trying desperately to escape.  Dave and 
I held her easily.


"Jenny, you're earning more demerits.  Stop it!"  I ordered.

This calmed her a bit.

Timmy and Nancy moved the table off of center stage, where the lights 
were shining.  I ordered Jenny to stand under the lights where the table 
had been.

After everyone had grabbed comfortable seats, except for Jenny of 
course, I began,  "Now, Jenny, perhaps I had better remind you.  You 
have amassed quite a few demerit points up to now.  I hope you 
understand that your demerit session is designed to make sure that you 
ALWAYS behave well under discipline in the future.  Think what this 
implies, my dear.  A demerit session is not something you want to 
experience, even though you ARE going to, so you had REALLY best do your 
best to avoid MORE demerits, which will only increase the discomfort you 
will experience then.  Understood?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am." answered the tearful, ravishing, young British 
schoolgirl.

"All right, then.  Now, you'll be happy, I'm sure, because of your 
rather obsessive modesty, to learn that at first you'll only be removing 
one item of clothing."

She looked at me hopefully.

"Your underpants." I continued, and then enjoyed the look of confusion 
and dismay this statement produced.

"M-my, my, oh, but I can't!" wringing her hands.

"Either that our we'll very happily remove all of your clothing and 
assign you a large number of extra demerits.  Come on, which is it, 
girl?  Quickly!"

Jenny quickly decided that obedience was the better course.  She seemed 
to also realize that she could remove her "knickers" without immodestly 
exposing herself.  Self-consciously she reach up under her skirt and 
carefully worked her underwear down to her knees and then stepped out of 
them.  She held them in her hands awkwardly, not knowing what she was 
supposed to do.

"Present your underpants to Timmy, Jenny, and ask him to do his best to 
see that you are well disciplined this evening." I ordered, with a smile 
at Timmy, who was beaming with cruel pleasure.

Jenny walked reluctantly to Timmy and held out the knickers to him.  He 
took them greedily.  Jenny then said, very quietly, "Please discipline 
me well, Timmy."

Chapter 9 - wherein what was hidden is revealed, Timmy gets a lesson in 
feminine response, and a few hairs are plucked.


"You'd better believe it, girly!" the eager youngster answered with a 
laugh, as he stuck the knickers in his back pocket.

Jenny returned to her position in the center of the room, as if she knew 
instinctively that that was what was desired of her.

I said, "At this point, Jenny, you will have a choice.  You can go 
through this session in two different ways - with your skirt on - or, 
without it.  If you choose the latter, you will cheerfully remove your 
skirt and hand it to Timmy, and you will only receive half the 
punishment that you would otherwise receive.  It's up to you.  What will 
it be, Jenny, dear?"

Jenny seemed confused.  Since she didn't know what the punishment was to 
be or how bad it was to be, she couldn't know for certain how much she'd 
be gaining by having it cut in half.  On the other hand, she KNEW that 
she didn't want to take her skirt off in front of us, particularly in 
front of Timmy and Dave.  In addition to this, she probably grasped at 
the hope that if she chose to retain her skirt that she would thereby 
retain her modesty.  She apparently forgot the fact that she had on no 
underwear.  Thus she made a mistake.

"Ohhhh!  I CAN'T take off my skirt, Aunt Marge!  I can't!  Not in front 
of men or boys!"

"Then you've made your decision.  Well and good, Jenny.  You will 
therefore be receiving double what you would otherwise have got."

This brought tears of fear to her eyes but no wavering in her decision.  
Her feminine modesty prevailed over her fears for her physical 
well-being.

I turned to my son, and said, "You can take over from here, Timmy.  
She's all yours.  Uncle Dave and I will check back in on how you kids 
are doing in a little while"  and Dave and I left the room, heading 
immediately to the TV room, where we quickly tuned in the workshop.  We 
didn't want to miss anything and tuned in right away, obtaining a view 
from a camera mounted in the ceiling of the workshop, giving us a very 
good view of the proceedings.

Timmy grinned broadly, and Jenny shuddered in fear.

Timmy rose and began to push the table back into the light, ordering 
Jenny to stand aside, which she did, looking fearfully at the dreaded 
stirrups.  Perhaps then it might have begun to dawn on her that if she 
were to assume the classic position that this table implied, having a 
skirt on would be at best a very precarious protection of her much 
valued modesty.

"Ohhhhh….ohhhh…." she softly whimpered.

Timmy said, "Now, cousin, Jenny, lets have you sit up on the side of the 
table.  Good girl."

Jenny obeyed, sitting on the edge of the table and carefully making sure 
her skirt was safely arranged.

"Now slide around on you bottom.  That's it.  Careful of your skirt, 
cousin, dear."  Timmy ordered with a grin, helping Jenny swing her legs 
around so that she was sitting lengthwise on the table, again with her 
skirt carefully positioned over her legs.  Jenny was positively 
shivering with apprehension.

"Lie down on you back, now.  That's right, with your head on the pillow.  
Put your arms at your sides - not over your pussy."  Jenny had 
protectively attempted to shield her crotch area with her hands.  Even 
though she was still modestly covered, lying down made her feel very 
vulnerable.  Timmy's use of the word "pussy" made Jenny gasp in shock.

What a picture Jenny made now.  A prim English schoolgirl with fabulous 
looks and big boobs, stretched out helplessly on a gynecological exam 
table and at the mercy of an evil-minded twelve year old boy.  Dave 
seemed close to having a stroke and I was extremely wet.

"Now, Jenny, well just secure your arms so you won't hurt yourself." 
Said Timmy as he attached Jenny's arms to the sides of the table with 
conveniently placed straps.

Jenny moaned fearfully, "Ohhhh, please, don't…." but she didn't resist, 
and before she knew it, both of her arms were securely fastened.

Jenny seemed even more concerned as Timmy carefully removed both of her 
cute little shoes and socks.

"Now, Jenny" said Timmy, "For this next step, you must be very careful 
and do exactly as I say so as not to displace your skirt and expose 
yourself.  Now, lets carefully lift this leg over here - to this 
stirrup." 

Jenny seemed entranced, and allowed her leg to be guided without 
resistance.  At least partly she was cooperating so as to help preserve 
her now very shaky modesty.

The stirrups at this point were positioned very close to the foot of the 
table, thus Jenny's leg was pulled to one side but not pulled backwards 
toward her head.  Since the skirt was a long one - a very tasteful brown 
paid, by the way - her cunt was still protected from our eager views.

Timmy secured Jenny's left foot and then did the same with the right.  
Jenny was now pretty well fixed in position, but Timmy made sure by 
wrapping two straps around her torso, one just above and one just below 
her boobs, and fixing them to the table.  He was careful not to touch 
her breasts, preferring to let her have the illogical illusion that she 
wasn't being molested.

Timmy went behind Jenny and put another pillow under her head, so that 
she could more easily see what was going on, then he grabbed a stool, 
placed it at the side of the table next to her hips, and sat down.

"So, cousin." He said, "What do you think is going to happen to you 
today?"

"I d-don't know…" with a sob.

"Well, lets see, what part of you was punished on your first session?"

Jenny could only stare.

"Answer, Jenny, or I'll flip this little skirt up."

"Ohhh!  No! No! Don't!  My bottom!  You punished my bottom!"

"Good girl!  Now, what part of you did we punish on your second 
session."

Very quietly, Jenny managed to murmur, "M-my b-b-breasts."  The horror 
of where Timmy was aiming was beginning to hit her.

"That's right, and Nancy did a very good job, didn't she?"

"Y-yes…Oh, please, Timmy don't do it to me!"

"So, we can't very well punish your bottom or your breasts again, can 
we?  That would be unfair to your bottom and your breasts, so we have to 
find some other part of you to punish, don't we?"

Silence.

"Don't we?!"

"Y-yes." Came a little girl voice.

"So, why don't you tell us - give us a suggestion - what should be the 
part of you that I punish tonight?"

"Ohhhhhh!"

"Come on, cousin Jenny."

"My legs - you can punish my legs!"

"Yes, I could punish your legs, but Dad and Mom and Nancy got to punish 
your bottom, which was very sensitive and very embarrassing for you, and 
Nancy got to punish your breasts, which are even more sensitive than 
your bottom and which was just as embarrassing for you.  I want to get 
to punish a part of you that is even more embarrassing and even more 
sensitive.  What part do you think that might be?"

Silence.

"You'd better answer me, Jenny, or you'll be very sorry."

Silence.

"Speak up, or I'll flip up this skirt."

"My v-v-…"

"Your what?"

"Oh!  I can't say it!"

Timmy grabbed the hem of the skirt and made as if to flip it back.

"Don't! My vulva!" she cried in panic, hardly knowing what she was 
saying.  It's hard to know whether she actually thought that her skirt 
was going to remain in place if her pussy was being punished, but for 
now it WAS in place and she would do anything to keep it there, if only 
for a few more seconds.

"You mean, your pussy, Jenny?"

Silence.  Timmy moved his hand threateningly.

"Yes! Oh, please, don't!"

"Say it then.."

"My p-p-pussy."

"You want me to punish your pussy?"

"No!  Please, not that!  Anything else!  I'll do anything.  Please, 
Timmy!"

"Hmm, but you do agree that your pussy is much more sensitive than your 
boobies!"

"Y-yes"

"Well, then that's what I'll punish.  And suddenly with, no warning, 
Timmy flipped the skirt back out of the way, exposing the holy of 
holies, Jenny's plump, hairy cunt, to our evil eyes.

Jenny could see it just as well as we could.  She stared in disbelief 
for a second and then screamed in shock and bitter embarrassment.  
"Ahhh!  No!  Put it back!  Please put it back!"  She struggled 
desperately to get loose and to cover her shame.  Alas, she was very 
tightly secured.  Timmy wasn't a boy scout for nothing.

Jenny's fit went on for a few minutes until she gradually began to tire.  
Meanwhile we feasted our curious eyes.  Yes, we had seen this sight 
before, but this was the in much better lighting and Jenny's terrible 
embarrassment made it so much more enjoyable.

The object in question was truly impressive, a very plump, protruding 
mound, covered with a forest of black hair.  One could hardly see any 
pink, except for a little bit of naughty labia minora peeking out from 
the center and the tip of an apparently quite large pink clitoris at the 
top which poked out and receded as Jenny gyrated in her struggles and 
continued to scream and moan hysterically.

"Oh come on, Jenny.  Give us a break!" said Timmy, "It's just a pussy.  
Every girl's got one, although most of them aren't this hairy, I'll 
bet." He said with a delighted laugh.

He added, "So, it looks like getting to keep your skirt hasn't done you 
much good.  Huh, Jenny?"  Nancy and Timmy shared a laugh at this.

I quickly freed Dave's erect penis from his pants and began sucking 
greedily, while still keeping an eye on the monitor.  He came in seconds 
but was quickly hard again.

Meanwhile, Timmy and Nancy were in no hurry.  They were clearing 
relishing the situation as much as Jenny was suffering in it.  It was 
certainly a picture to relish - a well dressed English schoolgirl with 
really nothing missing from her attire except the vital knickers, 
showing off a very hairy cunt to the world.

Jenny became a little more aware of her surroundings, and began begging, 
"Oh, please, Timmy!  Don't look at me there!  Don't look at me there!"

Nancy observed, "Jenny, deary, I suspect you'll be happy if ALL he does 
as look at it."

Timmy said, "Why don't we show Jenny one of the features of this table 
that Dad added?" And he pushed a button that started the stirrups, in 
which Jenny's exquisitely formed bare feet were imprisoned.  Jenny 
exclaimed in horror as the stirrups started moving backwards toward here 
head, thus rolling her hips back.

"Ohhhh!  No, please!" she begged.  The stirrups finally stopped at their 
maximum position, whereby Jenny's well-spread knees were almost next to 
her head and her hips were rolled way back and partly lifted off the 
table.  As a result Jenny's cunt was now completely and conveniently 
exposed and prominent as was her daintly little anus.  Because of the 
stretch her very plump and long pussy now gaped just a bit, providing a 
nice flash of pink in the middle of all that black hair.  This hair 
proved to be not only very thick but very extensive, growing well down 
Jenny's tender bottom crack and around her bumhole.

"In case your were wondering, Jenny," Nancy informed her cousin, "we can 
now see a little bit more than just your pussy."

"Oh! Oh! Ohhhhhhhh!" Jenny humiliation was excrutiating, as the position 
of her head, forced by the double pillows, allowed her easily to see her 
furry bush.  Although she couldn't see the rear orifice that Timmy and 
Nancy (and we!) could see, it was probably more of a vision of that 
particular part of her body than she had ever had.

Nancy said, "Timmy, not all teenage girls are as clean as they ought to 
be so I'm going to wash her." And she brought a soapy washcloth from the 
sink and began to soap down and scrub vigorously poor Jenny's pussy, 
bottom crack, and anus.  Jenny gave a series outraged and shocked yells 
and tried again to get away, but of course it was no use.  She seemed 
astounded at the suddenness of the rude invasion.

Jenny's crotch was now covered with soap suds, a rather amusing sight 
that Jenny didn't seem to find so amusing.  Nancy was not going to allow 
this untidy situation to persist.  She retrieved a pitcher from the 
workshop's little refrigerator.  "I'm afraid the you might find this a 
bit chilly, deary." Nancy said as she poured ice cold water on Jenny - 
right between her legs, to rinse off the soap.

"Aggggggh!  Ah!  Ah!  Oh! Oh! It's coooooold!" Jenny jerked around madly 
as her pussy hair dripped drops of ice cold water.

Nancy quickly mopped up the water from the table and the floor and Timmy 
began to dry Jenny with a soft, white towel.  Having Timmy actually 
touch her "there", even through the material of a towel, seemed to have 
a horrible effect - she burst into agonized tears, "No!  Ohhhhh, don't!  
Don't!  Oh, Timmy, please don't touch me there!"

But in a wonderfully short time she was reasonably dried and her pussy 
hair was looking fresh and fluffy.  The labia and clitoris looked just a 
touch swollen, as if Timmy's unwanted touches had produced and equally 
unwanted but unavoidable reaction in the young girl.  Indeed, one could 
see a little hint of glisten on the tip of the luscious clit, but it 
could easily have been remnants of the little shower she had just had.

"Let's see if she's a virgin, Ok, Nancy?  How do I do it?" asked Timmy 
eagerly.

"Well, Timmy, see this hole right here?  I guess what I'd do is maybe 
spread these lips a little with one hand…"

Timmy reached down to do as Nancy was instructing him, as calmly as if 
he were learning how to knit.  However, Jenny didn't take this new 
development quite so calmly.

"No! No! Don't! Noooooo….ooohh!"

Timmy spread the pink gap with his left hand.

"Now, see how far your finger will go down inside."

"Wow!  OK!" and Timmy again did as he was told.  He had to wriggle the 
finger a bit to get it in very far; even with the extra spread she was 
pretty tight; but he seemed to hit something.

"Ahhhh!  Ah! Ah! Oh, don't!" Jenny gasped.

"It won't go any further.  I'll push harder."

"Owwww! Stop" commented Jenny.

"You've got your answer, Timmy.  She's a virgin!" explained Nancy.

"Hmmmm.  Very interesting." Said a thoughtful Timmy, withdrawing his 
finger.

Jenny seemed stunned almost into insensibility by the outrageous 
intrusion of Timmy's curious finger into her sacrosanct cunt.  She 
seemed to stare into space as she continued to gasp and moan.

Nancy asked with a cruel laugh, "What's the matter, Jenny?  Didn't you 
enjoy that?  Didn't it TURN YOU ON?"  She turned her little brother, 
"Timmy, here's a fun idea.  Why don't you see if you can make her get 
wet?"

"You mean pee?  Yuck!"

"No, silly.  When you play with a girl's pussy, she gets 'turned on', 
and you can tell because she'll get all wet and gooey.  Of course, if 
Jenny DOES, get wet, we'll consider it to be very naughty, right, 
Timmy?"

"Yeah, right!  Cool!  So, how do I do it?"

"Well, just kind of stroke it, and pinch and tickle.  Girls particularly 
like boys to play with this little bit right here." as Nancy pointed at 
Jenny's clit.

Timmy began playing with poor Jenny's defenseless pussy, throwing Jenny 
into an agony of humiliation and shame.  She yelled, moaned, begged, to 
no avail.  And sure enough, after just a couple of minutes her pussy 
started getting wet and her clitoris started asserting itself.  The poor 
girl was getting turned on in spite of herself.

"Wow!  She's getting gooey!"  announced an excited Timmy.  "She's being 
bad, isn't she, Nancy.  And she deserves more punishment for that, 
right?"

"I think so, Timmy.  It's really rude to get turned on when you're 
supposed to be getting punished."

"Well, we'll take care of that later." Answered Timmy, and, turning to 
Jenny, "Now, Jenny, the reason we've got you here in this position is 
that we've got to do something about all this hair.  Since I'm going to 
be punishing your pussy tonight, it's not fair for it to be so protected 
when your bottom and boobies weren't.  Doesn't that seem right?"

Jenny was naturally too shocked to respond.

"And just to show how practical we can be, we're going to make at least 
part of the hair removal also a part of your punishment.  Regardez!"  
and Timmy produced for Jenny's horrified viewing a pair of tweezers.  
Those who have read "The Seat of Learning" know that Timmy was no 
stranger at this point to dealing with a girl's pubic hair.

Through her tears, Jenny asked in a broken voice, "What's that for??"

"This!" said Timmy, and with that he grabbed a pubic hair near Jenny's 
belly button and started pulling.

"Ah! Ah! Oww!" Jenny yelled, as the tension became stronger and stronger 
on the chosen hair.

Yank!  Out came the hair and out came a vigorous yell and jerk of pain 
from Jenny.

While she was still sighing and moaning Timmy picked another hair and 
quickly yanked it out.

"Yeooowwww!" yelled the poor, suffering girl, her tightly bent bum 
roving around on the examination table and her cute little anus winking 
seductively.

Poor Jenny!  She would close her eyes to avoid seeing the horrible 
conjunction of Timmy's tweezers and her pubic hair, but somehow she 
couldn't keep them closed for very long.  She couldn't avoid staring as 
each hair was pulled slowly out, as the skin stretched as far as it 
could go, as the pain built, and finally as the hair finally pulled 
free, sending an unbearable burst of pain through her young pubic 
region.

This was Timmy's day, and he knew it.  He was in no hurry because he 
knew he had plenty of time to move Jenny from one torment to the next.

After pulling out about twenty hairs from the area between Jenny's belly 
button and the top of her cunt, Timmy was just getting started, but 
Jenny was ready to call it a day.

"I think we'll pull one from some tenderer area, like here." and the 
tweezers demonstrated by picking a pubic hair that was rooted  right at 
the edge of Jenny's left labia majora, right at the slit. 

"But," Timmy continued, "I'm not going to pull it - you are."

Jenny could only stare in horror.

"Yes, we're going to free your right hand and YOU are going to pull this 
hair out.  If you don't, I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you a 
little persuasion from this."  And Timmy held up a small strap, much 
like the tawse with which I had welted Jenny's behind, but smaller in 
all dimensions.

 "And then - you'll STILL have to pull the hair out.  Ha! Ha!"

Nancy freed Jenny's hand and guided it to grasp the tweezers which were 
still holding onto the very sensitively placed curly black hair.  

"Now, Jenny, pull!  And you better do it quick!"

Jenny moaned in despair as she tentatively pulled on the hair, placing 
painful tension in a very delicately sensitive area.

"I'll count to ten and if that hair's not out by then, you get it, 
girl!" Timmy said enthusiastically.

It was a wonderful situation.  Jenny couldn't win, and we couldn't lose.  
Even if she succeeded in pulling out the hair, we could enjoy she pain 
the was inflicting on herself.  And if she failed, we would get to see 
just how effective that little strap could be.

Timmy started counting backwards from ten.  Jenny's efforts stretched 
the labia and opened up just a bit the lovely pink gap of her luscious 
cunt.  The poor girl pulled as hard as she could stand, but the pink, 
glistening skin at that particular location was just too sensitive.  She 
was hurting herself as much as she could and she started crying with the 
pain, but she just couldn't force herself to pull any harder.

All too soon for Jenny, Timmy reached zero.  Nancy reached down and 
gently pulled Jenny's hand out of the way and Timmy brought the wicked 
little strap whistling down to connect loudly with Jenny's left thigh, 
perilously close to her pussy.

"Ahhhhhh!  Owww!  Oh! Oh!" Jenny screamed and dropped the tweezers.  
Nancy let go of Jenny's hand and it went rushing to comfort her suddenly 
burning inner thigh.

Nancy retrieved the tweezers and handed them back to Jenny as Timmy 
said, "Now, let's try again.  Practice makes perfect."

Timmy helped Jenny to find a well-placed curly black hair, right on the 
edge of her pussy lip, and began to count, "10….9…8…"

Jenny presented such an amusing and delectable picture with her cute 
young thighs pulled backward and well spread and her hand reaching 
between her legs with the tweezers, stretching the lip of her pussy as 
much as she could possibly stand.

"3…2…1…"

Timmy paused and watched with amusement as Jenny pulled extra hard and 
yelled with the pain, but it just wasn't enough.  Timmy counted zero, 
Nancy intervened again and, whisp, snap!  The strap came down in almost 
exactly the same place as before, which now turned a bright red.

"Owwwww!  OH! Ah!"  The muscles on Jenny's cute thighs stood out and 
again she again dropped the tweezers and writhed in agony.

"My goodness," said Nancy, "your self-discipline hasn't improved much 
has it, Jenny?  What should we do, Timmy?  Should we give her another 
chance?"

Timmy answered, "Yeah, but first let me show her how it's done.  Maybe 
she can learn by example." 

He picked up the tweezers, attached them to a curly hair in the same 
location as the one Jenny had failed to pull out, and, with one swift 
motion, yanked the hair from her poor, highly sensitive, pussy lip.

"Agggggghhhh!!" came a long, drawn out scream from the suffering 
teenager who seemed to feel the pain most acutely.   The scream 
gradually died off into pitiful sobs.

"Please stop!!  It hurts too much!  Ohhhh!" she begged.

Whisp, snap!  Timmy brought the strap down again - attacking once more 
the already traumatized area of thigh flesh he had been focusing on.

"Yeeeeeowwww!  Owww!  Owww!  Ohhh!  Stop!  Stop!" Jenny bounced and 
twisted about, at times lewdly poking her pussy and bumhole out at Timmy 
and Nancy.  She tried desperately to free herself, but, alas, without 
effect.

Chapter 10 - wherein more hairs are plucked, Jenny is "bad" and has a 
close shave, and a new area gets "pinkened".


"That was because I had to show you how.  You should have been paying 
attention before.  Now, here, try again." Timmy lectured the poor 
sobbing girl sternly and then handed her the tweezers and directed her 
to another black, curly hair on the opposite side of her slit.  
"10…9…8…"

The terrified girl tried her best, pulling hard with the tweezers and 
apparently causing herself considerable pain, as well as giving us all 
an interesting view inside the pink gap; but she just couldn't bring 
herself to pull hard enough to actually dislodge the hair.

"3….2….1…." Timmy paused.  Jenny looked at him in fear.  Timmy 
brandished the feared strap and this did the trick.  Jenny gave a 
supreme yank on the hair and out it came!"

"OoooooOwwwwwww!  Ah! Ah! Ah!"

"Good, girl!" said Timmy, taking the tweezers from her trembling hand, 
"but you're taking too long.  We'll never get all of this hair removed 
at this rate."  Meanwhile, Nancy refixed Jenny's arm to the table.

"All!  Oh no!  Timmy!  You can't!  Not all!"  Jenny stared at him in 
wide-eyed horror.

But Timmy ignored the poor girl, and, as Nancy laughed and watched, he 
began quickly pulling hairs from Jenny's poor, mistreated pussy, 
concentrating exclusively on the sensitive areas on either side of and 
adjacent to the pouting slit.  Jenny yelled and screamed with each yank, 
and begged piteously when she could catch her breath, but to no avail.  
Timmy continued methodically for about ten long minutes, pulling 
something like 60 hairs.  Jenny was close to fainting when Timmy finally 
stopped.  The young girl clearly had a sore slit by this time.

Timmy gave Jenny a little time to come to her senses.  Nancy said,  "I 
think she would REALLY hate to have hairs pulled right around this area, 
Timmy."  As she pointed at Jenny's very cute and assertive clitoris.

"Hmmm " said Timmy, as if he were considering a principle of advanced 
mathematics.

"Oh NO!  Not .not .n-not there!  Please, not there!" Jenny tried her 
best to pull the threatened area backwards, anything to protect herself.

Timmy smiled at Jenny, reached down, and grabbed a hair that was rooted 
right at the base of Jenny's extremely sensitive nub of pleasure.  She 
tensed her body with dread anticipation.  He pulled slowly, ever so 
slowly.  Gradually the skin became stretched.

"Ah!  Ah!  Oh, it hurts!  Ohhh!"  Jenny kept up a steady stream of 
complaints that grew ever more frantic, until, snap!, the hair pulled 
loose.

The reaction to this was the most extreme yet - Jenny seemed to be using 
all of her lung power and threatened to break the stirrups with her 
thrashing about.

Timmy concentrated on this area for another ten minutes, pulling another 
40 or so hairs, producing marvelously extreme responses from our dear 
victim.  Jenny became somewhat demented with the pain, seeming to become 
confused about her surroundings.  It was glorious fun!

Timmy paused again.  To give Jenny time to come back to reality, he and 
Nancy made themselves a snack of cookies and milk.  They offered some to 
Jenny, but she refused tearfully.

Finally they finished their break and returned to work.  This time, 
Timmy apparently decided for some more variety.

"You've got hair everywhere, Jenny.  Let's see how you like having it 
removed from THIS area." And he lightly touched Jenny's defenseless anus 
with the tweezers.  She jerked madly and her little bumhole winked 
cutely.

"Ohhhhh, not there!   Ohhhh not there!!  Oh!  Oh!  Oh, God!  Oh!  Ow!" 
Jenny begged and yelped, flinching with each little teasing jab that 
Timmy provided her right in the center of that sensitive little ring.  
Timmy seemed fascinated and entranced with the sights and sounds, and 
with the wonderful power he currently wielded over his previously 
unobtainable cousin.

He grabbed a hair rooted at the very edge of Jenny's anal ring and began 
to pull.

"Ohhh!  Ohhh!"

He start giving sharp little playful tugs on the condemned hair.

"Ah!  Ow! Ow!  Stop!"

Suddenly he yanked the hair out with a swift stroke.

"AGGGGGHHH!"  Jenny screamed at the top of her lungs until she lost her 
breath.  Her buttocks and anus clinched with every bit of strength in 
her muscles.

Timmy and Nancy shared a smile, both clearly enjoying Jenny's 
misfortune.

Timmy pulled two more hairs from the same area and with the same style, 
first teasing little tugs and then a sudden yank, all of which seemed to 
be the worst sort of torture for young, innocent Jenny.  But then Timmy 
began to get more systematic, as he had previously.  He began pulling 
hairs more rapidly - all of them from right around the tender orifice of 
her bottom.  Again Jenny performed much as she had when her clitoris was 
at the center of activity, although now she seemed to exert more energy 
clinching her bottom muscles.  

Each hair seemed to cause Jenny considerable pain as it was extracted, 
and all of this pain was centered in the same area, her delicate little 
rosebud.  As before, she gradually seemed to become less and less aware 
of her surroundings, although Timmy's brisk and efficient technique 
didn't slow down a bit, until finally he stopped after a torturous ten 
minutes.  By this time Jenny was a real wreck.  Her energy was exhausted 
and she lay bathed in sweat, moaning and sighing to herself.

Nancy reached a mischievous hand toward Jenny's cunt, "Well, let's see, 
Jenny.  Are you still turned on, like before?" as she lightly brushed 
the slit, bringing a wince from Jenny.  "Hmm, feels like having your 
cunt hair pulled out isn't exactly a turn on for you.  Hmmm."  But as 
Nancy continued to manipulate the outer and inner labia, the moisture 
started returning and the lips and clitoris started to swell.

"Oh, look at this, Timmy.  She's being bad again." Nancy announced with 
a cruel smile.

"Bad girl!" said Timmy as he impulsively reached down and gave a sharp 
flick with his index finger to Jenny's now more prominent clit.

"Yeooowwwww!  Oh!  Ohhhhhhh, Timmy, don't!" Jenny cried, jerking with a 
suddenness that caused two buttons on her blouse to pop off, showing us 
the swelling tops of her substantial young boobs and the white bra that 
was doing its best to contain them.  I suspected that giving us an 
involuntary glimpse of her breasts was among the least of Jenny's 
concerns at the moment, what with her holy of holies in such a rather 
serious predicament, but it was nevertheless a very nice, erotic 
addition to the festivities.

Timmy produced a pair of barbers shears and held them up, with a smile 
on his face, for Jenny to see.

"Oh, Timmy, no!  Don't!"

With a little laugh, Timmy began to trim Jenny's impressive bush.  He 
was very good - in just a few minutes Jenny's pussy actually started 
coming into view, looking like it needed a shave.  Its extreme plumpness 
was easier to see now.

Timmy said, "Now, I hope you aren't getting turned on, Jenny.  Maybe to 
help your self discipline I should cut THIS off." as he made as if to 
snip the tip off of Jenny's clitoris.

It was only Timmy's little joke, but Jenny screamed, "NOOO!" and 
fainted.

It was right about here that I had a wrenching orgasm with the help of 
Dave's magic fingers and immediately afterwards had my mouth deluged 
with Dave's second, so I missed a little bit of the action.  At any 
rate, when I turned my attention back to the TV monitor Timmy was no 
longer in the picture.

Jenny was left alone with Nancy and was asking her, "Oh, Nancy, what's 
he going to do to me?"

"Well, I don't know, Jenny dear.  But he's a very imaginative boy with a 
bit of a cruel streak and he doesn't get girls in the position you're in 
very often, so I would be a bit worried if I were you, tee hee!"  
Reaching down to stroke Jenny's defenseless pussy, she continued, "Is it 
sore?"

"Oh!  Don't!  Oh, yes, it's sore!  Oh, Nancy, it was horrible - it hurt 
so much when he was pulling my hair out.  Nancy, I've been punished 
enough!  I can't take anymore, especially .down .there.  It hurts too 
much!"

"Jenny, Jenny!  I'm afraid it's going to have to hurt a bit more.  But 
meanwhile, we've just got to do something about that hair; and here 
comes Timmy to finish the job!"

Jenny's face turned pale when she saw Timmy coming towards her with a 
safety razor, some damp cloths and a can of shaving cream.  She was 
temporarily speechless.

Nancy said, "Look, Timmy, she's being bad again."

And sure enough, poor Jenny's rebellious pussy was glistening with new 
love juice - the result of Nancy's recent stroking.  Jenny was clearly a 
hot blooded young girl.

As he lay one of the damp cloths on Jenny's cunt area, Timmy said, 
"Well, that's just more demerits for her.  She should learn to behave!"

"Owww!  Oh, it's hot!  Ohhhh!" announced the subject of Nancy and 
Timmy's conversation.

Well, you know it IS important to soak those whiskers in hot water 
before shaving!

It took just a couple of seconds for Jenny's crotch and bottom crack to 
be completely covered with foamy white lather, and right away Timmy 
began shaving.  For Jenny's safety and comfort he was using a Gillette 
Sensor Extra.  He worked fast and Jenny held completely still, for fear 
of getting a serious nick, so the job really didn't take very long.  
Jenny moaned and wept through the whole process as Timmy started up by 
the belly button and worked his way down.  Nancy helped by pulling the 
skin taut at the right places.  Finally, the last bit of hair from 
Jenny's bottom crack was removed.

A quick scrubbing with another hot, wet cloth, another yell of pain and 
outrage from Jenny, another quick pat dry with a fluffy white towel, and 
there she was, bare to the world!  Jenny wept to see the results, but I 
think she should have been proud.  Such a robust, plump mount; such 
delicate yet assertive inner lips; such a lovely pink gap; such a large, 
long clitoris.  And as if that weren't enough, the inner lips and gap 
were glistening with Jenny's unstoppable love juice.

Timmy and Nancy now quickly freed Jenny from her bonds.  "Get up.  On 
your feet." He ordered.

Jenny tried her best but was a bit shaky.  Timmy and Nancy helped her 
sit up and then slide off the table onto her feet.  As a result her 
skirt fell down into place and Jenny was again the demure young 
schoolgirl.  Jenny was clearly barely able to stand.  At least part of 
her mind was probably entertaining the hope that we had just been 
scaring her and that her punishment might be over.  When Timmy handed 
her her panties and ordered her to put them on she seemed even more 
confused and slightly hopeful.

She had a hard time putting them on since her knees were almost to shaky 
to let her stand on one foot.  Timmy and Nancy considerately held her up 
while she slipped the panties on.  Once again Jenny was a well-dressed 
British schoolgirl, except that, as astute readers will remember, she 
was barefoot.  How confusing for a girl such as Jenny!  She was probably 
not yet able to fully comprehend or believe that fact that she had just 
had her cunt shaved by a boy.  Now that she was dressed again, perhaps 
all that seemed like a strange dream.

One other little detail that the ever so astute reader will note.  
Jenny's blouse had one button open and her frilly bra was visible.

This was our cue to return to the workshop, and so we did.  "Hi, Mom!  
Hi, Dad!" yelled and excited young Timmy.  I noticed that Jenny blushed 
a deep red on seeing Dave reenter the room.

Timmy went to the shelf and turned on the stereo, flooding the room with 
sexy, steamy strip music.  "Now, Jenny, what you are going to do is give 
us a strip show.  I guess you know what THAT is.  First off, I want you 
to start dancing for us, and remember, any lack of enthusiasm will add 
big time to your demerit punishments.  I want you to slowly take off 
your clothes and I want you to be very, very sexy and I want to you 
dance and shake your butt while you're doing it.  Understand?"

Poor Jenny could only stare at let her lower lip tremble.

"Dance!" ordered Timmy, with a touch a steel in his voice.

Poor Jenny had learned to avoid disobedience if she could.  She started 
tentatively moving her feet around.  

"You'd better dance better than that, Jenny." said Timmy, "Start moving 
your bottom around.  Yeah, that's it, only faster.  Now get those boobs 
bouncing around too.  Good."

And so our modest little religious girl was doing a sexy, gyrating, 
although awkward, dance.

"Now, keep dancing, and start unbuttoning your blouse."

Jenny cried as she gradually peeled of her blouse under Timmy's stern 
eye, keeping up her dancing all the while, especially when reminded.  
The boobs now swung around inside the white bra, an impressive sight 
even to us who had seen them naked only a couple of days earlier.  

Then came the skirt, accompanied by many tears, and Jenny was now 
gyrating her bum and boobs in only panties and bra.  Somehow this was 
extremely erotic, even though we had already seen all of the body parts 
that a girl would generally like to keep hidden.  However we had not yet 
had her completely naked, and that was what was coming.  Also, knowing 
that her pussy was shaved added to the experience.

Timmy ordered the bra off next, and Jenny complied, although with great 
mental anguish.  There they were again, a truly spectacular pair of 
boobs, large and firm with prominent nipples.  One could still see the 
effects of the rather stern treatment these morsels had received only 
two nights previous: a certain general redness, and a few stripes and 
bruises her and there added a gay decorative air to the fleshy globes.  
The nipples still appeared to be quite swollen and tender.

Timmy let the dear girl dance for a lovely while, keeping her and us in 
a bit of suspense and providing us an very enjoyable show.  The tears 
streaming out of Jenny's lovely dark eyes and bubbling over her lovely 
cheek bones,  around her chin, down her neck and eventually onto the 
rotating breasts, as well as the breasts themselves which seemed to bob 
with a life of their own - we could have gone on watching quite a while 
longer.

However, Timmy realized that we had to continue young Jenny's 
discipline, because, after all, this was all ultimately for her benefit.

"And now, Jenny, those panties. Off with  em!"

Jenny stopped dancing and looked pleadingly at her young cousin.  "Oh, 
Timmy, please don't make me." Wringing her hands.  This last little 
scrap of clothing was so important to her, even though she had just a 
few minutes ago been showing off the area that it protected in a rather 
brazen fashion.  Who can plumb the depths of the teenage girl's mind?  
Maybe it was because now she would be totally naked in front of us for 
the first time.  Maybe it was because she knew that it was her pussy 
that was going to be providing the entertainment for the evening.  Or 
maybe it was Dave's presence?

"Off with  em, or else, girlie, and keep dancing." Timmy said with a 
threatening coldness in his voice.

Jenny looked frantically around.  "I I Oh, Aunt Marge.  I I can't take 
them off with with Uncle Dave here."

Remember, dear reader, that Jenny was unaware just how much dear Uncle 
Dave had seen up to this point.  As far as Jenny was concerned he had 
seen her boobs and her bottom, but not her most intimate areas.  
Apparently it seemed far worse for him to see her completely without 
protective covering than for anyone else, including Timmy, whom she 
still regarded as a little boy.

"Jenny, if we have to take them off for you, you'll get a ton of 
demerits and you'll REALLY be sorry."

"No! No! I can't!  Please!!"

Quickly, in coordinated motion, the four of us had her surrounded.  
Timmy, Nancy and I held her limbs securely, in spite of her desperate 
struggles.  To her horror, it was Uncle Dave himself who reached out to 
grab the waistband of her panties.

"No! No, Uncle Dave! Don't!"

Dave took his sweet time, drawing out Jenny's agony, and slowly the 
panties descended.  The cleft came into view as Jenny and the rest of us 
watched.  Her moan as she saw it and realized that her hunky Uncle Dave 
was getting an eyeful was wonderful to hear.  After that she gave up the 
struggle and down and off came the panties.  Nancy and I pulled Jenny's 
legs apart and Dave calmly sat down and gazed at the plump, bare little 
treasure.  

We let her go and her hands flew to hide what had now been seen by, 
gasp, A MAN.  Timmy ordered her to place her hands at her sides, and 
surprisingly she obeyed.  I supposed she realized she had nothing to 
gain at this point by resisting.  Her sobs were heartrending.

"Jenny, when your demerit punishment comes around, you are going to be 
really sorry you disobeyed me." said Timmy with a grin.
 
I stole a look at Dave's crotch and saw signs of a rampant erection.  
Looking at Timmy I saw a smaller version of the same thing.

Timmy got up, switched off the music, retrieved a short riding crop from 
the wall, and returned to his seat.  Jenny watched, wide eyed with 
trepidation.  Her now visible cunt seemed to shrink in fear, or maybe it 
was just my imagination, since I knew that MINE would be shrinking.  
Perhaps it was an effect of the way she kept her legs pressed tightly 
together and kept her pubic area slightly pulled back and her bottom 
pushed slightly back.

"Come over here, Jenny." Timmy calmly suggested, "That's good.  Stand 
right in front of me."

Jenny obeyed, and watched horrified as Timmy repeatedly slapped the end 
of the riding crop into his left hand.

"Spread your legs.  Wider." And the poor girl did as she was told, but 
not without out a despairing moan.  "Good." Approved Timmy.

Timmy went on, "Well, let's see.  You've had a pink belly and pink 
boobies.  What do you think about getting a pink pussy?"

At this, the young girl couldn't help her hands rushing to guard her 
holy of holies.

"Jenny!" 

Her hands returned to her sides, leaving her pussy bare once again.

"Actually," Timmy said, "your pussy is ALREADY pink, so maybe we'll be 
giving you a red pussy, or a slightly purple pussy." And he slid the 
crop between Jenny's trembling thighs and began lightly caress the inner 
surface of her right thigh.

"Ohh!  Ohhh!  Oh, Timmy, please "

"Put your hands behind your neck and join them.  Good.  Hmmm, that 
pushes out your boobs nicely.  Now, Jenny, this will be just a little 
warm up, a little  get acquainted' session.  But it's also an 
opportunity for you to demonstrate how much your self-discipline has 
improved.  I'm going to start using this little item to tap THAT little 
item, and all you have to remain still and not attempt to shield 
yourself.  Any disobedience will only make things worse.  Understood?"

"Ohhhhh, uh, y-yes." Looking down in fear at the evil object between her 
legs. 

Timmy began.  Tap, tap, tap.  He really was doing it very lightly.  
However, Jenny seemed to feel each tap acutely and gave little squeals 
and sighs to announce them.  Timmy continued, moving the crop around 
slightly so as to carefully visit all of her cunt.  When he caused the 
tip if the crop to lightly whisk Jenny's protruding clit, she lost her 
composure for a second, pulling her hips backwards and clamping her legs 
shut.  However, she quickly realized what she had done.

"Ohhh, sorry!" and she instantly returned to position, offering her 
stinging, tender pussy for more of Timmy's malicious attentions.  This 
pussy had definitely started to acquire a bit of a healthy glow, a 
newfound pinkness.

Timmy made Jenny turn around so that her lovely big bottom was facing 
him, and then he made her spread her legs again.  Tap, tap, tap, again 
went the cruel crop against its innocent victim.  The difference now was 
that the tip snaked around and clipped the poor girl right on her clit.  
Because of this and probably also because her pussy was getting more and 
more irritated and sore, Jenny clearly had to exercise every single bit 
of self-control to remain in position.  After just a couple she started 
doing a little jump as she felt each stinging contact on her rapidly 
reddening pussy, causing her lovely bosoms to bounce appealingly.

After about ten Jenny's self-control flagged - she pulled away and 
clamped her legs shut with a mournful wail.

"Jenny " said Timmy softly, with a threatening tone.

"Ohhhh!" Jenny moaned, returning to her assigned position, again baring 
her cunt to attack, "It hurts SO much, Timmy.  I can't stand it."

"Well, you'd better stand it." 

Tap, tap, tap.

"Oww!  Ohhhh!  Ahhh!" Again doing her little jumps, a nice game of 
hop-scotch.

It was a pretty amusing and also pretty exciting scene.  One reason it 
was exciting was that even though Timmy really wasn't using much force 
at all with the riding crop, Jenny was clearly feeling quite a bit of 
pain.  Obviously she had a very sensitive pussy, and this gave us all 
great expectations for how she would be performing when things go a 
little more serious.

Timmy now increased the force of the taps ever so slightly.  I could 
tell by the sound and also by the slightly increased pitch in Jenny's 
little exclamations with which she announced each one.  She quickly 
reached a desperate point where it hurt too much and pulled forward, 
disobediently bringing her hands down and grabbing her aching crotch.

"Ohhhh! Ohhhh! I'm s-s-sorry!  Oh, it huuurts!" she said between 
clinched teeth.  I could see her fingers sticking out behind, under her 
bottom cheeks, massaging her poor pussy.

Timmy flashed us a grin as we all enjoyed Jenny's writhing and moaning, 
as she unconsciously did a series of bumps and grinds for us.

Timmy said, "Jenny, listen closely, if you can.  You're getting ten more 
taps right up between your legs.  They'll be nice light ones like I've 
been giving you if you maintain position.  If you move out of position 
ONE TIME, we will hold you still and you'll get ten like this."

Whap!  Timmy gave Jenny a real cracker right across her cute ass.  She 
shot bolt upright, grabbing her injured cheeks.  "Owwwwwww!" she yelled.

"Yep, just like that" Timmy continued, "only they won't be on your 
bottom.  Get it?  Now get over here and spread your legs again.  Yes,  
turn so your big fat bottom is in my face.  Now get those legs apart.  
Good."

Timmy again started tapping that most sensitive spot.  These taps were 
like the last few had been - a touch toward the harder side.  Jenny 
squealed and moaned and writhed in agony, but, wonderfully, managed to 
keep her position.  Timmy made the last one a much more serious whack, 
zipping the crop sharply into her already smarting pussy, producing an 
impressive smacking sound.  This caused the poor girl to jump a foot in 
the air and then fall to the floor, clutching madly at her wounded 
treasure, yelling loudly.

"Hmmm.  She didn't REALLY keep position until she was told she could 
move, but on the other hand, she DID make it through all ten." Timmy 
mused, "What do you guys think."

Nancy said, "I think you should start over and give her the entire ten 
over.  She was clearly disobedient."

I said, "Well, I'm not sure.  She did do very well up until the end."

And Dave said, "I think we should show that we aren't tied strictly to 
the letter of the law, and let her go on this one."

Jenny shot a look of love and gratitude toward her wonderful Uncle as 
she continued to massage her cunt - rather shamelessly, I must say!

"Oh,OK, then." Agreed Timmy, "So, Jenny, it's time to move on.  Get up.  
Come on.  Stop playing with yourself and get on your feet.  No hiding 
your pussy, hands at your sides.  Now let's see how you're doing, so 
far.  Come over here and spread your legs."

Jenny obeyed, displaying her plump mount just a few inches from Timmy's 
greedy eyes.  Jenny seemed to feel the humiliation of this as acutely as 
if she had only just stripped for the first time and had a wonderfully 
anguished look on her face.  Her pussy, however, seemed to be doing just 
fine, with no more untoward results than a new healthy red glow, as if 
she were using a little rouge on it.  From the slightly bowlegged way 
she walked, though, you could tell that it was smarting a bit.

"Let's give everyone a look." Said Timmy with an evil grin, "Jenny, 
please walk over to Nancy and spread your legs.  Good girl."

Jenny complied, standing submissively in front of a smiling Nancy, 
spreading her legs as ordered to show off as well as she could the pink 
front of her pussy.

"It's a good start, Timmy." Was all Nancy had to say.

Chapter 11 - wherein Jenny's inspection continues, some corrective 
measures are applied, Jenny goes riding and gets to demonstrate her 
upper body strength.

I was next in Jenny's reception line.  The poor naked girl stood before 
me, tears of humiliation and shame streaming down her face.  From a 
close viewpoint I could see that the youngster's clitoris had received 
more than its fair share of attention from the riding crop, since most 
of the harder blows had been applied from the rear and thus the tip of 
the crop had visited this tender nub most harshly.  It was quite a dark 
red and was clear a bit inflamed and swollen, along with the pussy lips 
just adjacent to it.  I probed it gently with my forefinger and induced 
some pitiful little squeals of pain from the delectable young strumpet 
in front of me.

"A bit tender here, eh, Jenny?"

"Y-yes, Aunt Marge."

I paused a second to enjoy the miserably embarrassed look on Jenny's 
tear-stained face, and then I said, "What a pretty little puss you've 
got, Jenny, and a pretty plump one too.  Don't you think it looks better 
without all that hair?  I think Uncle Dave and Timmy do.  But you know, 
I think it could stand a little color, though and I think that young 
Timmy here might be able to arrange that."

"Ohhh, Aunt Marge, how could you!!  Please, don't let him¡­p-punish me 
t-there anymore!" Jenny blubbered.

"Now, Jenny, I understand your concern.  It's a tender little spot, and, 
believe me, I'm glad it's not me in your position.  But if you just try 
and take the longer view, you'll realize that this is all for your 
benefit.  We're all working together to cure you of your kleptomania."

"But¡­.b-but¡­.I'm c-cured now!  I'll never steal anything ever again!  
I've had enough punishment.  O-or¡­c-can't you punish my bottom some more 
instead.  Oh, please!"

"Don't worry, Jenny.  You've still got your demerits to work off, so I 
think your bottom's going to be getting back into the action again in a 
couple of days.  But for today¡­well¡­you'll just have to grin and bear 
it, I guess." As I affectionately patted the pussy that was so 
conveniently and hairlessly presented.  I continued, "Well, darling, 
tonight is really between you and your young cousin.  Timmy, the show is 
all yours."

"Ohhhh, please, no more!  It REALLY hurts.  You'll hurt me too much!"

I spoke up, "Don't you worry, Jenny, we know what we're doing and we're 
not about to ¡®hurt you too much' as you say.  Yes, it's true that you 
must feel some discomfort, but please be assured that it's all for your 
own good and that you'll be as good as new in a just a few days after 
we're finished with you."

This didn't seem to comfort the poor lovely teenager very much and she 
wrung her hands in fearful anticipation.   She certainly looked 
especially cute, all naked as she was, and sporting her new, shaved, 
"little girl" look.  Her plump pussy with its rosy glow looked 
positively scrumptious.

Jenny was clearly VERY reluctant to comply with the next order from 
Timmy, which was to display herself in front of Uncle Dave.

"Ohhh, n-no, please¡­" she hesitated, unconsciously covering her big 
breasts and rosy pussy as she looked at Uncle Dave's stern visage.  Her 
shyness and embarrassment seemed to have shot up to a new level.  She 
was clearly VERY reluctant to have Uncle Dave getting an eyeful.  
Unfortunately for her, that was just what he was about to get.

"Jenny!" yelled Timmy, and the poor girl quickly hopped over to where 
Dave was sitting.  However, she was still covering up.

"Hands at your sides!" Timmy ordered.

With the most mournful of whimpers, Jenny slowly moved her trembling 
hands to her sides, unveiling her private charms to the eyes of her 
uncle.  Dave motioned her to come around to the side of his easy chair 
so that he could more easily peer at her bare pussy.

"Hmmm," he said, "It IS getting a nice healthy color.  Is it nice and 
warm?  Let's see¡­"
and he reached out and began lightly caress the front of her slit.  It 
was all Jenny could do to hold still during this, and her tears and sobs 
started anew.

"Yes, Timmy's attentions seem to have added a healthy warmth as well as 
a healthy flush, but I'm glad to see that you aren't getting turned on 
by any of this, Jenny.  You seem quite dry.  I must say, Jenny, that 
Timmy did a great job on your shave, don't you think?" Dave said as he 
continued remorselessly to caress and squeeze poor Jenny's tender pussy.

Jenny could only give out little squeals and squeaks with each new 
sensation, but I thought I detected some subtle signs of sexual arousal 
in her eyes and her breathing, in spite of Dave's announcement about how 
dry she was.  I was to be proved correct.

"Hmmm, Jenny, I said you were dry, but here you are starting to prove me 
a liar.  Are you actually indulging your sexual lust from my legitimate 
investigations of the state of your little pussy?"  Dave held up the 
tips of his fingers for us to look at.  "Jenny, I'm shocked.  Just look 
at this!" and he brandished his fingers tips in her face.  "You've 
really got to do some work on your self-control.  And really, it's very 
insubordinate and rude to be getting turned on when you're being 
punished.  Marge, would you note that we need to add another demerit for 
this?"

Need I note that Jenny's was absolutely horrified by all of this?

Dave was finished yet, "Now, let's see.  Your pussy IS nicely reddened 
here in front, but I can't really see how even it is all over.  Jenny, I 
want you to turn around."

Jenny tearfully obeyed, displaying her wonderfully large, firm bottom 
just inches from Dave's eyes.

"Good, now remember your obedience lessons, and bend over, sweety."

Jenny gave a mournful sigh and obeyed her uncle's command, but only 
just.  She leaned forward just a bit and kept her legs clamped hard 
together.  Clearly the last thing she wanted was to give Dave a view of 
her most private areas.

"Now that IS a pretty pose, Jenny," said Dave, "but it's not exactly 
what I had in mind.  For starters, why don't you spread your legs a 
bit?"

"Ohhhh, Uncle Dave!  I can't!  I just can't!  It's TOO shameful!"

"Now, Jenny, dear, believe me you don't have anything that I haven't 
seen before.  I'm not interested in your silly little teenage body.  I'm 
just trying to make sure that we do a thorough job of curing you.  Now - 
I'm going to stop playing around.  Spread your legs, now!"

Jenny obeyed, but again, only just.

"Wider!  Wider!"

Finally the poor girl was browbeaten into spreading her legs quite wide 
apart, producing a wonderfully seductive view of her plump pussy from 
the rear.  But Dave still wasn't happy.

"Hmmm, I still can't see quite as well as I want.  Why don't you bend 
further down and grab your ankles?  Come on, Jenny, I'm not kidding!  
Now!  All the way - grab those ankles!"

Jenny obeyed and was now giving dear Uncle Dave about as much of a view 
as it's possible for a girl to give.  Her bottom cheeks were well 
spread, exposing all of the tender flesh between them, including the 
formerly reclusive bumhole, which was looking particularly cute.  And 
below that her quite full, bare, pussy was shamelessly proffered.

"Hmmm, that IS a rather delightful picture, Jenny.  Would you like me to 
take a photograph so you can see what you look like from this angle?  
Apparently Timmy or Nancy cleaned you up very well - why you're squeaky 
clean.  Yesss, it looks as though this part of your pussy, near your 
little bottom hole here, isn't quite as pink as the front part."

"I'll even her up for you, Dad!" offered Timmy enthusiastically.

"Oh, yes, Timmy, I'm sorry," said Dave, "This IS your show tonight.  You 
take over."

Timmy walked over with the riding crop to the shamefully presented 
lovely young teenager.

"Yes, I see what you mean, Dad.  She needs a little ¡®pinkening' up back 
here." and he rudely touched the end of the crop to the back part of her 
tender slit.  This came as such a surprise and a shock to the dear girl 
that she shot bolt upright reaching back with both hands to protect her 
rear quarters from the enemy.  As a result her big breasts bobbed 
happily, as if they weren't particularly concerned about the problems 
other parts of Jenny's body might be having.

Timmy wasn't having it, however.  "Jenny," he said in a calm voice.  
"You weren't told to move, were you?  Now get back in position or you'll 
REALLY be sorry."

Jenny obeyed, but as she once again presented her wide open rear view to 
the family (we had all repositioned ourselves to admire the vista), she 
couldn't resist a little begging. "Oh, Timmy, don't hurt me too much, 
please!" Everyone laughed at this futile effort as we enjoyed the view 
that she offered us.  Her pussy was looking very cute and provocative, 
pouting just a bit, and with both inner labia sticking out past the 
outer in a very assertive and naughty way.

When she felt the light touch of the tip of the crop as Timmy cruelly 
teased her, she jerked involuntarily forward to remove her pussy from 
harm's way.  However, Jenny quickly recovered herself and returned to 
her proper, well-displayed and vulnerable, position.

Timmy started tapping Jenny in this sensitive spot, very lightly at 
first, but gradually increasing to medium light taps.  Each one would 
not have been enough to cause much concern if, say, you were getting 
tapped on your forearm.  However, on a girl's pussy it would certainly 
be a different story.  Jenny clearly felt each smack and as the pain 
built she moaned and gasped.  She was exercising all of her self-control 
to maintain her obscenely offered position and to keep her sensitive 
pussy conveniently positioned for Timmy's attentions.  Just as it was 
obvious that she was on the verge of cracking, Timmy stopped.

Since Timmy hadn't told her she could get up, Jenny remained in 
position, and thus we could all see that the rear part of her pussy, as 
well as her little wrinkled anus, had gotten some definite improvement 
in color, and were probably smarting quite a bit as well.  As we watched 
poor Jenny moaned and whimpered.

"An admirable job, Timmy!" said Dave.

Timmy beamed at this approval from his father.

"Well, Timmy," said a grinning Nancy, "Let's not keep the poor girl in 
suspense.  What have you got planned for her next?"

"She's going to get some riding lessons.  Stand up, Jenny."

Jenny did, and she was happy to do so.  Even standing naked before us 
was at least a little better than the position she had just been in.  
Plus her smarting nether regions were at least temporarily out of harms 
way.  The cute girl wanted to behave well so she kept her hands at her 
sides, clearly with some mental struggle involved.  She looked so lovely 
standing there, with the grace that only a youth can have, and the body 
of a woman, waiting for the next humiliating order from her young 
cousin.

"We have a very interesting exercise for you now, cousin dear." Said 
Timmy, as he went to the vaulting horse and, with the flipping of a 
couple of catches, removed the padding on the cross bar, revealing the 
underlying structure, a simple pipe of strong white plastic, 
approximately two inches in diameter.  There was one especially curious 
thing about this pipe.  Just about in the center of its length, there 
was a sudden dip, a cupping, which went down about two inches and 
extended about three inches. If one didn't know the purpose of it, it 
might have been hard to guess.

One the other hand, one just might put two and two together, especially 
after hearing the phrase "riding lessons".  It looked just a little like 
a very narrow saddle, a saddle that would just receive and wrap around 
from front to back the pussy of a young girl.  If one looked closer, one 
could see another curious thing.  The dip section was covered with the 
something very like the coconut matting that young Jenny had already 
gained some familiarity with by now.

Timmy pushed one of the control buttons and the bar lowered until it was 
only about two feet above the floor.  Timmy motioned Jenny over to the 
apparatus and helped her lift one leg over it.  As she stood there, 
wringing her hands in fear, he pushed another button and the bar began 
to rise.

Jenny watched in horror as the menacing bar moved upward toward her 
crotch.  When it got to her pussy, and the dip in the bar lovingly 
fitted itself around her, Timmy stopped it.  Apparently it was applying 
SOME pressure because Jenny seemed to feel it necessary to grab the bar 
with her hands to take a little pressure off of her plump mount and she 
raised up on the balls of her feet.

"Ohhh!  Ohhh!  It hurts!  Ow!  Please, Timmy!  Move it down!  Ohhh! OW!"

As considerate as ever, Timmy obeyed, and pushed the down button just 
long enough for the bar to move out of direct contact with the 
delightful mound of flesh that it had been impinging on so rudely.  
Jenny gave a heartfelt sigh of relief as prickly surface moved downward.

Timmy went to one of the drawers in the tool desk and returned with the 
breast halter that Nancy had invented and used to such wonderful effect 
two days earlier.  He also was carrying two lengths of leather 
strapping.  Jenny watched, obviously not knowing what was going to 
happen.  Clearly, though, she recognized the halter!

Before Jenny's terrified and pleading eyes, Timmy attached the halter to 
her large, firm breasts, making sure to pull the encircling straps quite 
tight, tight enough to elicit a pained yelp for each one as she felt her 
tender breasts tightly compressed at the base, enhancing the soreness 
that they already were subject to.  

Timmy now attached wrist cuffs to each of Jenny's wrists and clipped 
each leather strap to these.  Pulling over a small ladder, he then 
climbed it with the straps and ran each through one of two pulleys 
conveniently available just above our young victim.

Timmy pulled down on each strap, causing Jenny's hands and arms to get 
pulled upwards.  When they were perfectly straight above her, he pick an 
eyelet in each strap and clipped the straps onto the breast halter.  
Thus each of Jenny's arms was attach to one breast via an overhead 
pulley, and she could, if she wished, pull each breast upward simply by 
pulling down with the appropriate arm.

Jenny was silent during this operation except for some continuous 
fearful whimpering.

"Pull, Jenny.  Pull downward." Ordered Timmy.

Jenny obeyed, and her breasts moved amusingly skyward as her hands moved 
only slightly down.

"Harder."

"Ohh!  I can't!  It hurts!!"

"Jenny, I said harder."

Jenny pulled harder and, wonderfully, as the pressure on her poor 
boobies increased and they became like two red and purple volleyballs, 
with the nipples pointing upward.

But that wasn't all.  Lets not forget the plastic bar and the cruel 
coconut bristles just below her already smarting cunt.  Timmy certainly 
didn't forget!  He pushed the up button and watched with a cruel smile 
as the bar began to rise again.  

Jenny looked down.  She began to plead.  "No!  Timmy!  Stop it!  It 
hurts too much!"

The bar reached its appointed destination.  Timmy didn't release the up 
button.  The bar continued to rise.  Jenny began to yell as plump little 
mount of venus began to be the sole support of her weight, and the poor 
organ was pushed down with considerable force onto the sharp bristles in 
the little curve of pipe that was now cupping her.

"Ahhhhh!  Ahhhhh!  Ohhhh!  Stop!  Stop it!  P-please!!!" The young 
lovely screamed in pain and panic as she was force up onto the balls of 
her feet, then her toes.  And then her feet were free of the floor.  
This was the worst.  Her tender little slit was now all that was holding 
her up.  It certainly wasn't designed for such a task and Jenny didn't 
think it was either.  As she screamed in pain her poor feet strained 
desperately to reached the unobtainable floor.  Timmy released the 
button with Jenny's toes only half an inch from being able to provide 
her crotch some relief.

Whether it was through calculation or instinct, Jenny suddenly seemed to 
realize that she could relieve her nether regions by pulling downward 
with her arms, thus transferring some of her weight to her breasts.  She 
did so.  She pulled harder and harder until she managed (it appeared ) 
to actually transfer all of her weight to her boobs.  This situation had 
only the advantage that her boobs were maybe a bit better choice for 
holding her body up than was her cunt.  There was more surface area 
involved in the straps surrounding the bases of her breasts, and the 
straps didn't have the prickly bristles to torture her so cruelly.  On 
the other hand, her poor boobs had suffered so much already¡­

As we all watched in fascination, the poor girl hung by her tits, which 
were becoming a darker and darker shade of red, almost purple.  How long 
could she stand this?  But not only did she have to endure the cruel 
compression and pulling on her tits, she could really only keep up the 
work of pulling with her arm muscles for a short time.

Her arms began to tremble.  She begged.  Pleaded.

"Ohh!  I can't hold up much more!  Help!  Help!  It's hurts so much!"

Gradually the strength in her arms gave out and she slowly sank down.  
As the weight was again transferred to that mistreated little item 
between her legs her yells gained in pitch and volume.  This resumption 
of pain down there gave her new strength and again she pulled.  Again 
her boobs point skyward and some relief was given to her pussy.

This went on for a couple of minutes only, but it was a truly engrossing 
and wonderful show.  After a little while Jenny's arm's could only 
manage a halfhearted pull and could only occasionally shift her weight 
from the tenderest part of her body and give her little pussy some 
relief from the cruelly sharp bristles.

"Ohhhhh It's hurting me down there, SOOO much.  Ohhhhhh!"

You may wonder why Jenny didn't either fall off sideways, or why she 
wasn't able to lean one way or the other to bring at least one foot in 
touch with the floor.  The answer is simply that her arms were stretched 
upwards so that neither of these two things could happen.  Thus she sat, 
and as she continued to yell and moan in direst anguish, I went to the 
kitchen and popped a big bowl of popcorn.

I came back with the popcorn to find Nancy and Timmy teasing and 
tormenting the already agonized youngster as Dave contentedly watched 
from his easy chair.  Timmy was whacking her bottom with his trusty 
riding crop and Nancy was slapping Jenny's captive, distended breasts.

"Owww!  Ow!  Ow!  Agghhh!  Oh stop!  Please..Ow!!!"

Each blow caused her to jerk involuntarily and, unfortunately, rub her 
poor little puss against the cruel fulcrum that it was resting on.

"Here, darlings," I said, "Let's have some popcorn and leave Jenny in 
peace for a little while.  Well, I think I exaggerated a bit.  There 
wasn't much hope of peace for the poor, naked thing.  Clearly she was in 
continuous torment from her crushed pussy, as her moans and cries 
testified.  She would still strive, whenever she could muster the 
strength, to pull on the ropes and thus lift some of her weight from the 
bar.  She could never last more than a few seconds before she slipped 
down again with an anguished groan and resumed her ride.

After we finished the popcorn, Timmy walked over to face the still 
writhing, moaning, crying girl.

With a cruel smile he asked,  "Well, Jenny, how's your pussy doing?"

All Jenny could do is burst into fresh tears.

"You won't answer me, so I guess you must like it there. Maybe we should 
leave you there all night?"

"NOO!  No!  Ohhh please, PLEASE let me off.  It HUUUURTTTS!!!"

Timmy pushed the down button, to Jenny's heartfelt relief, as she felt 
the painful pressure on her persecuted pussy diminish.  But her relief 
quickly turned to dismay as she now found her self hanging by her boobs 
with her toes still a fraction of an inch away from being able to do her 
much good.  She stretched her legs and toes desperately, to no avail.

Timmy couldn't resist.  He reached both hands out to her now suffering 
breasts and gave a fairly solid push.  Jenny screamed with the pain, but 
it was wonderfully amusing to see her now begin to swing helplessly back 
and forth, with Timmy giving a little extra boost with each cycle.

Finally Timmy let the exhausted girl come to a halt and released the 
straps from her boobs.  She came down rather hard and fell right over, 
narrowly avoiding giving her hairless pussy a nasty bump against the 
lowered bar.  Timmy ordered her to stand, and it took all her strength 
do so, but somehow she managed.  As she stood in front of him, Timmy 
removed the breast halter from her scarlet cantaloupes.

One could see from the front that her pussy was bruised and chafed and 
must have been VERY sore.

Timmy reached down to touch it lightly.  Jenny instinctively withdrew, 
but remembered the importance of self-discipline and allowed Timmy's 
rude hand to gently explore her as she grunted and sighed with twinges 
of pain.

"Well it looks like your well tenderized, Jenny."  we all shared a 
laugh.

"Tenderized enough for your strapping!" Timmy finished.

"Strapping?" whispered Jenny, terrified and hopeless.

"Yes, Jenny, with this!" and Timmy gleefully held up the little strap 
that he had used on Jenny's tender thighs back when she was being 
plucked and shaved.

Timmy continued, just in case Jenny didn't fully comprehend. "This strap 
and your pussy are going to get very well acquainted. "

Jenny fainted, collapsing in a heap on the floor.

The strap Timmy was holding was essentially the same as that which had 
been used on dear Nancy in the Seat of Learning.  It was light to avoid 
deep bruising, and smooth to minimize abrasion.  One thing it wouldn't 
minimize would be a fiery sting.

Again Jenny picked a very convenient time to faint, because it made it 
very easy for us to get her back up onto the gynecological table in the 
same spread leg, knees next to her ears position that she had been in 
for her shaving.  The condition of her hairless pussy could now be 
carefully assessed, and all of the family took care to look as closely 
as possible.  Jenny's little item was definitely looking a bit the worse 
for wear.  It was deep red in color and the surface of the skin was 
looking a bit raw, although the skin had not been broken.  There was a 
general swelling and some signs of bruising.

Were we being excessively cruel in allowing Timmy to take the strap to 
Jenny's pussy after all it had been through so far?  Perhaps it would 
put things in perspective to recall that we were attempting to cure 
Jenny of a serious problem and extreme measure were called for.  In 
addition, it might help to know that Timmy's original idea had been to 
use a cane on her, but that cooler heads had prevailed and the light 
strap had been substituted.  I have to admit, though, that the cane had 
been an intriguing idea!

Dave placed the pillow under Jenny's head so that, when she woke up, she 
could more easily see what was going on.  Just about then she DID wake 
up, coming slowly to an awareness of her situation.  You can believe 
that she wasn't to happy about this situation when she did become aware 
of it.

Chapter 12 and Conclusion - wherein we and Jenny meet the "Quacker".


"Ohhh!" she exclaimed, as she laid eyes first on her red and swollen 
cunt and then on the happy faces of our family gathered around.  Then 
the consciousness of the throbbing, burning pain that was originating in 
her crotch started to hit her.

"Oowwww!  Oh, it hurts!   Owwww!" and the tears began to flow.

She looked around at our cruel faces and spied the strap in Timmy's 
hand.

"Don't hit me, Timmy!  Please!  You wouldn't, would you?  Not there, 
please!"

"Where don't you want me to hit you, Jenny?" asked Timmy mischievously.

"On my my "

"Here?" Timmy asked as he brought the strap lightly down, flicking 
Jenny's cunt right in the center.  It must have been pretty sore, 
because even this wimpy little stroke brought a strident yell of pain 
from the poor girl.

"Owwwwww!  Oh, don't!  Don't!  I can't stand it!!" as she attempted in 
vain to close her well-spread legs.

"Hmm, I guess you DID mean there." Timmy concluded.  "Is it really sore, 
Jenny?" He asked, lightly flicking the object in question with the tip 
of the strap."

"Ahh!  Ahh!  Ouch!  Yes, it's sore!  Oh, please!  I've had enough!!  
I'll never be bad!  I'll never steal!!  Spank me instead!!  Strap my 
bottom!!  Anything, oh, anything!!"  Jenny seemed determined to get her 
point across, and all the while straining her thigh muscles in a futile 
effort to close her legs and shield her threatened pussy.

"But don't you agree that you've been very bad, Jenny?" I asked.

"Oh, yes, I've been VERY bad, but I can't take any more th-there!  You 
could strap m-my b-breasts I just COULDN'T stand anymore on 
my th-there!"

"Jenny, Jenny," I responded in a calm, motherly tone, " When are you 
going to learn that we're doing this all for you?  We would never do 
anything that would damage you - we want to improve you!  A girl's pussy 
is an ideal object for teaching her a good lesson that she'll never 
forget.  Even the strongest caning on her bottom can't quite equal the 
experience of a pussy strapping.  Ask Nancy, here."

Nancy blushed deeply, but smiled at the same time since she realized 
that SHE was not the one whose pussy was in question at the moment.

Jenny shivered with fear at my light hearted comments.

I continued, "One wonderful thing about the pussy as a punishment target 
is that it FEELS to the culprit that she can't stand anymore, or that 
anymore will produce permanent damage, while in reality it is a very 
robust and resilient area.  In your case, Jenny, I would have to say it 
is especially resilient, so I don't think any of us have to worry very 
much."

"But, Aunt Marge" Jenny managed between bitter sobs, "I just can't take 
anymore there.  It hurts TOO much."

"Of course it hurts, dear.  I'm sure it hurts a great deal, but that's 
the whole point, don't you see.  I might add that it's going to hurt 
quite a bit more in just a little while, if I know my son." And I gave a 
smiling wink to Timmy, who grinned broadly.   "But I think, correct me 
if I'm wrong, Timmy, that Uncle Dave is going to give Jenny a little 
test first."

Timmy said, "Yep, that's right.  Go ahead, Dad."

Dave moved to center stage, that is, front and center, commanding easy 
access to Jenny's cunt and standing right in front of her terrified 
gaze.

"Now, Jenny," he said, "You know how important it is to learn self 
discipline during punishment and to take your punishment in the right 
spirit.  One important thing that we want to make sure isn't happening 
is something that young girls of your age often have a problem with.  
That is, it would be very rude of you and very counterproductive to our 
purpose for you to get  turned on' at any time during punishment, 
because that would be defeating the purpose, wouldn't it?  So I'm going 
to give you a little test to see how good you are at resisting any 
impulse to get turned on, ok?"

Jenny had a pretty good idea of what Dave was talking about and all she 
could do was stare at him and cry copious tears.

Dave went on, "So, what I'm going to do is do some things that would 
normally tend to turn a girl on, but you must resist this.  If you 
don't, I'm afraid we'll have to take that as extremely insubordinate."

Dave reached out a loving hand and lightly brushed his fingers up and 
down one side of Jenny's plump red, swollen pussy.  She flinched at 
first, grimacing and grunting since the area was quite tender.  However 
as Dave's hand became more adventurous and inventive, it didn't take 
long before Jenny's juices started flowing, and there came a new kind of 
swelling - the swelling of lust.

Dave said, "Oh, dear, Jenny, this is very naughty."

The poor girl clearly couldn't help herself.  She was just a hot-blooded 
girl and her pussy was going to respond to caresses regardless of the 
situation she was in.  And apparently the soreness in the tissues was 
not enough to impede nature's work in any great way.  She stared in 
horror at first, seeing just as well as anyone how successful Dave was 
being, how freely the glistening juices were flowing over the bare, 
plump mount.  Then she closed her eyes, becoming lost in her feelings.

Dave continued, remorselessly.  Jenny became hotter and hotter, starting 
to rotate and thrust her hips against Dave's marauding fingers, starting 
to groan with lust and pant with desire, becoming completely oblivious 
to her surroundings - aware only of the magic of Dave's industrious 
digits.

The pace of Jenny's panting and groaning at last clearly signaled an 
impending orgasm.  That was when Dave stopped, suddenly, leaving Jenny 
poised on the brink of paradise.

"Ohhhhh!  Please, don't stop, don't stop!" she babbled, still in a half 
dream state, thrusting her hips in hopes of renewing the blessed contact 
with Dave's fingers.  Her love juices were flowing everywhere, causing 
her anus, bottom crack, and thighs to glisten as well as her swollen, 
opening cunt.  A little puddle had appeared on the table.

"Jenny, " Dave said, looking with feigned disgust at the disheveled 
state of Jenny's pussy, "I'm really disappointed with you.  This will 
unfortunately result in a large number of demerits."

This brought her a little back to her senses.  She opened her eyes.  She 
was clearly torn between horror at what had just occurred and the 
continuing urgent need to have an orgasm.  Of course she wasn't going to 
be permitted this pleasure.  She was, after all, being punished!

As you and your readers will soon see, or may already know, Professor, 
if you're going to punish a girl's pussy, which we highly recommend as 
an effective discipline method, there is no better way to prepare it 
than to bring her to the brink of orgasm before applying the implement 
that you have chosen.  The tissues are at this point at their most 
tender and open and the clitoris asserts itself - a move that it will 
inevitably consider to have been mistake.  In addition, the coating of 
pussy juice guards against abrasion.

Timmy said, "Dad, I think it's time to insert the Quacker."

With a grin for all of us, Dave reached into his pocket and pulled out 
what looked like an ordinary butt plug.  Well, by "ordinary", it was 
ordinary to someone who had seen a butt plug before.  I don't think 
Jenny thought it was ordinary, since her eyes widened a couple of 
millimeters when she saw it.  Dave handed it to a very eager Timmy, who 
gleefully brandished it in young Jenny's horrified face.

The family already knew what the Quacker was.  It was an invention of 
Dave's, and was inspired by the writings of that great sage, Dr. 
Simpson.  Dave started with a hollow model of butt plug, one that was a 
bit on the thick side for a youngster like Jenny, but which we felt sure 
she could manage to accept.  He created some very interesting 
electronics to fit inside it, including a sound synthesis chip and a 
pressure sensor, along with a speaker and grill for the part that stays 
outside.  He calibrated the pressure sensor, using a somewhat reluctant 
Nancy as a tester.  Instead of going further into technical details, I 
believe I'll continue with the wonderful scene in progress.

I produced a little jar containing hot pepper oil, with which Timmy 
liberally anointed the business end of the Quacker as well as Jenny's 
defenseless little anus.

"Ahhhhh!" Jenny yelled in outraged surprise as she felt her little 
button being touched.  "Don't!  Don't touch me there!  She tried her 
best to clamp her legs to together, to squeeze her cheeks together, to 
no avail.

Timmy said, "Jenny, this is going in, whether you cooperate or not.  If 
you cooperate and relax, it probably won't hurt very much.  If you 
don't, if you clench, it might be very unpleasant for you."

And with that he touched the tip of the Quacker to Jenny's rosette.  
Jenny jerked and gasped.  Timmy slowly pushed and twisted as Jenny 
alternately groaned and squeaked.  In spite of the width of the plug and 
the virgin status of Jenny's rear entrance, the plug was inserted fairly 
quickly, although Jenny couldn't help clenching as the widest part of 
the plug stretched her to the utmost.  A light smack on her pussy with 
the strap was all it took for her to come to her senses and relax her 
muscles to allow the complete insertion of the interesting item.  Timmy 
now turned the end of the plug until we heard a click.  This was the 
"on" switch.

By now the effects of the hot oil were becoming apparent, and Jenny 
began to complain, "It's burning!  Oh, it's burning me!"

Timmy  said, "Jenny, if you don't want your pussy to get a good solid 
smack with this strap, you had better do what I'm about to tell you.  I 
want you to squeeze your bottom hole as hard as you can."

The poor girl obeyed, and we could tell in two ways - one, by observing 
the clenching of her muscles in that area, and, two, by the marvelous 
"Quack!" that emerged from the speaker of the Quacker.  It was working!  
The sound wasn't very loud because it was calibrated so that a very 
mighty squeeze would be required to produce a very loud sound.

Timmy pulled Jenny's panties from his back pocket and ordered Jenny to 
open her mouth.  The terrified youngster obeyed and immediately found 
her mouth full of fragrant underwear.  Nancy now tied a scarf around 
Jenny's mouth to secure the humilitating gag.  Jenny was not going to be 
communicating via her mouth for awhile.

Timmy smiled at Jenny as he held the strap up for her to gaze upon.  She 
was desperate with fear, and began desperately struggling at her bonds - 
she HAD to get away.  She knew all too well what Timmy was about to do.  
Inarticulate whines and mews issued feverishly from behind Jenny's gag.

Unfortunately for Jenny, we had designed her bonds to resist any of her 
struggles.  With a slight arm motion and a very quick flick of the 
wrist, Timmy brought the strap down smartly on Jenny's cunt.

Whap!  The wonderful springiness in Jenny's plump mound caused the strap 
to bounce off of its target.  Droplets of Jenny's love juice flew 
through the air.

The effect on Jenny was magical.  She gave a jerk of unbearable pain.  
Her thigh muscles contracted fiercely, pulling her bottom up off the 
table.  Her breasts swung back and forth as she writhed about.  From 
behind the ball gag a desperate whine could be heard.  Her pussy turned 
pale for a short instant before flushing red.

But best of all, Jenny produced a loud, drawn out "Quaaaaaaaaaaaack!" 
from her nether regions.  Obviously the intense pain Jenny was 
experiencing in her pussy caused her to clench her bottom quite tightly 
indeed.

It would be hard to exaggerate how amusing this was.  The whole family 
was convulsed with laughter as Jenny continued to send gradually quieter 
and shorter quacking sounds vibrating from her bumhole while her pelvis 
writhed obscenely.

After the quacking died down, Timmy said, "Jenny, you are getting a 
total of ten spanks on your pussy."

Jenny shook head and whimpered, her eyes pleading with Timmy for mercy.  
Her arms pulled at the ropes binding them.

"That is, you're getting a minimum of ten.  See, this is another 
opportunity for you to exercise self-discipline as well as your math 
skills.  After each swat, I'll wait for a few seconds for you to get a 
hold on yourself and then I'll say,  Count!'  That will be your cue to 
give exactly the number of quacks as the number of spanks you've had.  
If you don't quack at all I'll give you the last stroke over again.  If 
you quack too few times, I'll take that as the count.  But if you quack 
too many times, we start over.  Understand?  Ok, count!"

Jenny was a quick learner.  She dutifully squeezed her lovely teenage 
bottom and entertained us with a short, soft, "quack".  Again we all 
responded with a laugh, but before the laughing was over, Timmy raised 
the strap again and 

Whap!  "QUAAAAAACK!!  QUAAAACK!!"  Louder than before, as Jenny's whole 
body gyrated in anguish and her pussy again became briefly pale and then 
red again.

Timmy waited until the agonized whines and the quacking had died down a 
bit before he said, "Count!"

Somehow Jenny managed to eek out two pitiful little quacks.

"Hmm, you really should make them louder, Jenny, but we'll accept it 
this time."

Whap!  "QUAAAAAAACK!  QUAAAAAAACK!   QUAAAAACK!"

It took Timmy about a minute to recover from the intense laughing fit 
that he was thrown into.  By that time Jenny had quieted down a bit and 
she was able to hear Timmy.

"Count!" he ordered her. 

Again Jenny managed to keep the correct count, although she almost 
didn't add the third quack, probably afraid of going over the mark and 
giving Timmy the excuse to start over again.

Jenny managed to keep count surprisingly well, considering the mental 
and physical anguish she was experiencing.   Occasionally she 
undercounted by one.  As the count increased, so did the volume and 
length of the involuntary quacks and whines that were produced after 
each stinging kiss of the strap.  And so did the redness of her plump, 
pouting pussy.

At last the tenth stroke arrived, delivered with special gusto, 
producing a long, drawn out "QUACCKKKKK!"   Jenny writhed and quacked 
and mewed behind her pantie gag.  Timmy waited a little while and said, 
"Count!"

Jenny seemed to have lost her concentration.  She started quacking 

"Quack quack quack quack  quack  quack  quack  quack  quack "

After the ninth quack, she hesitated.  Timmy was just about to accept 
nine as the count and give her another stroke, when 

"Quack ."

A look of disappointment crossed Timmy's face, as he realized that Jenny 
had correctly counted the tenth stroke, but 

"Quack "  a meek, soft little quack, but it meant her doom!

"Oooops!  Too bad, Jenny, you counted too many that time."

Her eyes widened pleadingly.

"So we have to start over."

"Quack!  QUAACKK!!  Whine!!!"

"Ohh, you don't want us to?"

"QUACCCK!  Mew!"  Trying desperately to close her well-spread thighs.

"Tell you what, just to show I'm a nice guy, I won't make you count for 
these next ten, so you can be sure that that's all you're going to get.  
Aren't you glad?"

"Mmmmf!! Quackkk!"

I don't think she was agreeing with him!

Whap!  Another smart stroke, and with a strangled groan and quack, the 
girl fainted!

One household item that is very useful to have around when a young 
culprit is undergoing any kind of serious discipline, Professor, is 
smelling salts.  We had used them earlier with great success and this 
time it was a simple matter to bring the young lovely thing back to 
consciousness, albeit a bit confused consciousness.

Timmy gave her enough time to remember where she was, to see the strap, 
to realize its connection with her, and 

Whap!

Well, to make a long story short, Jenny fainted on the fifth, eighth and 
tenth strokes, but in between she provided us with what could be called 
one of the greatest shows on earth.  It is a marvelous thing that a girl 
whose pussy is being strapped ( or paddled, or ?? ) responds with 
motions that are very like those of a girl in the throes of sexual 
ecstasy, with plenty of hip thrusting.  This is both amusing and 
diverting to watch, and also adds fuel to the urge to punish, because it 
seems to the punisher that the culprit is being naughty and willful.

Timmy delivered the ten strokes in an admirably severe and professional 
manner, and, in between Jenny's faints, we were treated to the shrillest 
of muffled shrieks, the most abandoned of gyrations, the most obscene of 
bumps and grinds, the most mighty of clinchings of girlish buttocks, the 
wildest swinging of breasts, and the most strident of quacks.  It was as 
if the girl used her fainting spells to store up energy.

The tenth stroke was an especially nasty one, and Jenny's extra loud 
quack followed by a faint was no surprise.  We all congratulated Timmy 
on a job well done while Jenny lay there, unconscious, with her red 
swollen pussy testifying to the severity of her punishment.  

The rather quick and rough withdrawal of the quacker from Jenny's 
distended and tender anus by Dave brought her to her senses and, after 
the pantie gag was removed, she wept and moaned and would not be 
consoled, even though we pointed out how fortunate she was to have come 
under our care and to have been given such careful attention.  How often 
the patient is ungrateful to the diligent physician!

In vain we tried to cheer her by pointing out how well the color of her 
cunt had been improved, how much cuter it looked in its now more swollen 
condition.  She seemed deaf to our guarantees that she would be as good 
as new in a week or two, but could only sob and moan and stare in horror 
at her ruby red treasure.

Timmy and Nancy released young Jenny from her bonds and helped her into 
a sitting position.  It seemed to be very important to Jenny to keep her 
legs apart, most likely to avoid putting unnecessary pressure on the 
tender organ between them.  We helped her slide of the table onto very 
unsteady legs.  Dave and I each grabbed an upper arm and with this aid 
she was able to manage to walk, although in an extremely bowlegged 
fashion.  This rather amusing picture brought sniggers and giggles from 
Nancy and Timmy.

Finally we deposited the poor naked girl on her bed and left her to her 
own devices.  We all then went to bed, but I can assure you that it was 
a long time before Dave and I actually slept, and I imagine that Nancy 
and Timmy were awake for quite awhile as well!

We let Jenny sleep late the next morning, if that's what she was doing, 
and we didn't even peep on her.  She had gone through an admittedly 
harsh treatment and we felt she deserved some time to herself.  Timmy 
was a bit disappointed.  He pointed out that after Jenny's bottom was 
attended to she was forced to spend the next day displaying it and 
having it slapped and that the same was true after her titty treatment, 
so, he argued, she should now be forced to spend the day displaying her 
colorful pussy and being goosed whenever anyone felt like goosing her.  
Timmy was fondly recalling the fun he had giving Nancy a similar 
treatment, as readers of our first letter will remember.

I had to admit he had a point, so we agreed that, while we would allow 
Jenny to be unmolested until noon, that Timmy could have his wish and 
his way with her for the afternoon.

It was apparent to Dave and I, now, that administering Jenny's demerit 
punishments was really out of the question for this visit.  She really 
wasn't in any condition to receive them, and we agreed to put them off 
until Thanksgiving vacation.  We certainly never considered letting her 
off - it was vitally important for our treatment method that any 
disobedience or other ill behavior during punishment must result in very 
harsh consequences.  You may be sure that Jenny would be in for quite a 
time, and we would also make sure that she knew that we weren't finished 
with her.  The anticipation was sure to have a  beneficial effect.

All of us felt some disappointment at this, because we HAD been looking 
forward to exercising our creativity on the dear girl even more than we 
had so far, but we took comfort in realizing how much better it would be 
to have a "fresh" victim to torment, one that wasn't still suffering 
from the aftermath of her previous sessions.

And, in case any of you were wondering, that afternoon was very 
enjoyable as everyone in the family made a point of giving Jenny a jolly 
good time.  Jenny was made to remain nude and to present herself in the 
"hamster in heat" position of command, with the addition requirement 
that her legs be wide spread.  You probably never saw a girl who hated 
being goosed as much as Jenny did that day!

That night we made Jenny pose on her bed in the hamster position and 
told her we were going to give her some "medicine" to help her on the 
road to recovery.  I suppose that wasn't totally honest, because what we 
gave her has a suppository containing a potent shot of Tobasco sauce.  
The poor girl must have spent fifteen minutes running bow legged around 
the house in agonized panic, at times even trying to rub her burning 
bottom hole on the floor, much to our extreme amusement!

The next day her parents came to pick her up.  Before they did, we took 
great pleasure in reminding Jenny that she still had her demerit session 
to go through, and we took great pains to make sure she understood that 
it would be at least as bad as, if not worse than, what she had already 
experienced.  Predictably, she begged us to let her off any further 
punishment and promised fervently to never be bad again.

That night Jenny's parents returned and we all ate popcorn and watched 
some very interesting videos.  Neither parent seemed to mind at all the 
intensity of the discipline.  In fact they both seemed excited and 
intrigued.  This didn't bode very well for Jenny's future!

As I write this, Thanksgiving is next week, and there is great 
excitement in our household.  We have a wonderfully full visit planned 
for Jenny.  By the way, it appears that our treatment has, so far, been 
a success.  There have been no further incidents of stealing.  It's 
still early to say for sure that there has been a cure, because it's 
very possible that Jenny is being careful to avoid giving us cause to 
increase her punishments this coming holiday.

So, Professor, and dear readers, I will end this very long letter with a 
promise of a thorough reporting of Jenny's upcoming demerit session.

Signed,

A Strict Mom

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