Just days after finishing high school, Becky Carter got tied up for the first time.
It was summer, and she had time on her hands. Her stepmother was at work all day and often
away on business trips, and her father was a working archaeologist, off on expedition much
of the time.
On those warm days, Becky's metabolism was running high, and there was a
constant ache in her pussy. It was no wonder. She was barely 18, and her body was
ripening.
Rastin Gurnel, the white-haired man who lived next door to Becky and her parents,
was single and in his 60's. Whenever he gazed at Becky, his eyes would gleam behind
his silver-rimmed spectacles.
Gurnel loved the very sight of a youthful female body, and he had many magazines
containing photos of nude girls. His favorite magazines were the ones that featured photos
of girls who were tied up. He lingered over these pictures for hours at a time, especially
the ones where the girls seemed to be in misery, squirming and looking as if they were
pleading for mercy.
These magazines also contained articles that explained the benefits that girls
derived from being bound. Through bondage, a girl could develop a sense of order, as well
as respect for her elders. These articles recommended that young girls undergo rigorous
sessions of discipline and be given a solid dose of corporal punishment whenever it was
called for. There were even detailed guides for administering disciplines and
punishments.
Gurnel loved reading these articles, and he began to think that perhaps Becky
Carter needed to be bound up for some discipline, maybe even punishment. He daydreamed of
how she would look if she was nude and strapped down, writhing and helpless.
In the past, Gurnel had lured unsuspecting girls into his web of twisted desire.
Thus, he had a collection of restraints and flogging tools, fine leather straps and
belts.
Becky's stepmother was a jealous woman, and she resented Becky. She was often
friendly toward Gurnel, and one day she said something to him that he found both strange
and delightful.
"Becky's nothing but a sassy little brat, Rastin," she said.
"Someone needs to take her in hand. If you can come up with a reason or even an
excuse to give her bottom a good thrashing, I'd certainly appreciate it."
"You sure you wouldn't mind?" Gurnel asked.
"Mind!" she laughed. "I'd thank you over and again. In fact,
I'd appreciate it if you took a few pictures of her with her bottom all nice and
red."
From that moment on, Gurnel began plotting to get Becky under his control.
As soon as Becky was done with school, she began sunbathing in her parents'
backyard each afternoon. Whenever Gurnel saw her out there, he was beside himself with
joy. He would stand at a certain second story window and have a good view of her where she
lay on a towel, her supple body crammed into a tiny snow-white bikini. Her extremely long
hair was a dark honey color with a few light streaks in it, and it fanned out beneath her.
As Gurnel gazed at the almost-nude girl, his wrinkled dick became more stiff than it had
in a very long time.
Indeed, Becky made for a delightful view. Her nubile body was lean and firm, the
curves gently rounded. Her bottom was a pouted cupcake, and her breasts were forming into
perfect molds, standing proudly and capped with brown nipples.
On her third day of sunning herself, Becky began to feel as if someone was watching
her, and that idea made her pussy itch. She glanced about and caught a glimpse of her
elderly neighbor standing at his window. Mr. Gurnel was peeping on her. How exciting. She
began posing, stretching her arms back behind her, her fingers plucking at the grass as
she tightened her toes, displaying herself.
Gurnel wanted Becky. He wanted to fasten her into straps and paddle her little
tail. He wanted to hear her squeal.
For the next three days, Becky sunbathed each afternoon. Gurnel was watching her,
and she knew it. On one day, she removed her top, though she did so while she was lying
facedown. The next day, she removed her top while she was lying faceup, knowing that her
next door neighbor was looking right at her bare breasts. Her pussy ached as she lay
there.
On the third day, Becky shaved her pussy before getting into her bikini. She'd
been keeping it shaved anyway, but she wanted it to be freshly smooth. And by the time
she went outside to sunbathe, her crotch was wet with excitement. Once she was lying on
her towel, she just couldn't resist stripping off both pieces of her bikini and lying
there in the full nude.
It wasn't long before Gurnel went after her. His neighbor girl was making
herself very available, and he was convinced that she knew he was watching her. The sight
of her nude body was just too much for him. He meant to have her.
When Gurnel came outside, he just stood at the edge of his backyard, not far from
Becky, openly gazing at her. Becky looked up at him and smiled nervously. After all, she
was stark naked.
"Hello, Becky," Gurnel said to her. "You seem to be at loose ends
these days. Someone needs to take you in hand. Come into the house with me. I'll
attend to you."
Becky never gave it a thought. She simply followed Gurnel into his house, still
naked, her pussy throbbing. Yes, she was a little apprehensive, but she felt deliciously
adventurous and naughty. And the constant ache in her puss was enough to make her act
rashly.
Gurnel's house was cool and dark. He led Becky first to the living room and
stood behind her, hands firmly on his shoulders.
"I'm going to take you down into the cellar and give you what you need,
little girl," he said. "I'm going to discipline you by fastening you into
leather straps.
Becky froze for just a moment. She hadn't expected this at all, but it was too
late too back. She was in Gurnel's house now, completely unprotected. What had she
gotten into?
"Okay, Mr Gurnel," she said softly. "I'm all bare, so I guess I
just have to do whatever you say, don't I?"
"Yes, you do. Now come along."
On some level, Becky knew what she was getting herself into. She was filled with
dread, but there was a mysterious craving in her young loins that was driving her on.
The cellar was unfinished, the stone floor cold beneath Becky's bare feet, the
ceiling rafters exposed. There was very little stored down there, a few packing crates and
an ancient steamer trunk. But an old double bed stood at one wall. The bed had an ornate
iron frame. The mattress was bare.
Gurnel made Becky lie on the bed, facedown. Once she was in place, he strapped her
wrists together with a leather belt, buckling it very tight. Then he used another strap to
secure the belt to the center post of the bed's frame.
He stood back and surveyed the girl. She was nude and strapped out to a bed,
helpless. She was his!
As Becky tested her bindings, finding that she couldn't possibly escape, she
peeked over her shoulder and saw that Rastin Gurnel was standing there with still another
strap in his hand. He was doubling the strap over in his hands, grinning at her, his eyes
bright behind his thick spectacles.
He was going to beat her!
Gurnel was beside himself with happiness. This was just like the scenes portrayed
in his favorite magazines. He had a naked teenager bound into straps, and now he was going
to give her a good dose of discipline. Her skin would taste leather. And Becky's
stepmother had even told him she'd thank him if he thrashed this girl. It was a dream
come true.
"You're not really going to use that strap on me, are you, Mr.
Gurnel?" Becky mumbled.
"Yes, I am, lollipop," he told her. "How your stepmother would love
to see you now."
Becky gulped. She knew her stepmother disliked her, and she wondered if she'd
asked Mr. Gurnel to do this to her. Her bottom clenched itself tight.
Yes, Gurnel gave her a good thrashing. As soon as he began swacking the strap
across Becky's bottom, the cellar filled with the sound of leather striking tender
flesh.
Immediately, Becky started squealing, just as Gurnel had hoped she would, and she
wrenched at her bonds, yanking at the leather as she wormed about at the bed.
"Squirm for me," Gurnel sneered at the agonized girl. "I'm
giving you the discipline that a girl your age needs. I'm helping you."
Becky's little feet kicked up and down as her bottom twisted from side to
side. The pain was unbearable, and her elderly neighbor was beating her still harder. She
began pleading with him to stop, but he didn't listen. Instead, he began using the
strap on the rest of her body, her upper back and shoulders, her legs, even her feet.
Becky's skin was turning red and pulsating, yet she was surprised to find that
her pussy was leaking juice out onto the mattress. Horrid as this beating was, her puss
was all excited. She didn't understand it all, but she felt as if she might orgasm
under this awful strapping!
And then she knew what she wanted. She wanted something up inside of her pussy. She
was a virgin, but she wanted to have sex, real sex. She began to hope that Gurnel would
stick his thing in her!
But Mr. Gurnel continued to beat her with the strap, and she began to moan and sob.
"Please, I've had enough!" she whimpered.
Becky's behind was a reddish color by then, and she saw that Mr. Gurnel was
aiming a camera at. He was going to take pictures of her while she was bound and bare!
She pleaded with him, but her bottom was becoming so sore by then that she began to
cry, and her words became nothing more than a blubber.
Gurnel took the pictures that Becky's stepmother had asked for, knowing that
he'd be keeping several for himself. This was better than any magazine.
When he was done with the photos, he saw tears streaming down Becky's face.
Rather than beat her some more, he turned her over onto her back, twisting her in the
strapping. Then he sat beside her and stroked her gently, explaining to her the benefits a
girl her age could derive from corporal discipline.
"I could be a second daddy to you, sweetheart," he said gently.
"Wouldn't that be nice?"
That statement set off something powerful within Becky's very being. "Oh,
yes, Mr. Gurnel, be my daddy," she said through her sobbing. "Be my
daddy."
"Call me Daddy, little girl," he said to her as he put his ear to her
lips. This was turning out better than his wildest dreams. This sweet little teenager
wanted him to be her daddy!
"Hi, Daddy," Becky whispered.
Gurnel was elated, and as Becky spoke, he saw all the juice leaking out of her. He
asked if she wanted something in her pussy.
"Yes, Daddy, I want your thing in there, but I've never fucked
before," she mumbled. "Please teach me."
Rastin was eager to give this nympha all the instruction she wanted. He
couldn't wait to give her any real lovemaking. He simply pulled his gnarled penis
from his trousers and mounted the bound girl.
Becky did her best to open herself, but her pussy was tight, and Gurnel had a hard
time inserting his dick into it. Still, he poked away until he'd wedged it in there,
then crammed the snug crevice full.
Becky's pain was only momentary. And as soon as she was filled, she started
thrashing about at the bed, tugging at the straps that held her down, moaning and begging
for more. Yes, her bottom was on fire, but so was her pussy!
And she went into orgasms quickly, one following another as she lost touch with
reality.
"Fuck me, Daddy," she groaned. "Fuck me and fuck me!"
Gurnel took full pleasure with his young captive, then orgasmed into her pussy,
filling her with his juice.
Becky was his now. He was her daddy and her disciplinarian.
| 
