Chapter 1
I began spending a lot of time over at Ellen Haskin's house just after I
graduated from high school. I was 18, it was summer, and I had little to do. Ellen lived
right on our block, a shady, suburban street in small town America. She was in her
40's, a tall, handsome woman, her dark hair gray in spots.
I became a little fascinated with Ellen Haskin. She was a take charge sort of
person, quick to command, though she treated me with concern and understanding. Her house
became a refuge for me. It was also the place where I was trussed up nude for the first
time, the place where I received my first spanking, my first leather-flogging.
At that time, my mother was ready to begin her second divorce. She was rarely at
home, and I'm certain now that she was dating other men. Thus, I was often alone in
the house with my stepfather, and he was always looking at me "that way."
Eventually, he found a way of forcing me to parade around in front of him in nothing but a
tiny bikini-diaper. And once he had me under his control, he routinely groped my body. And
he tied me up when he felt like it, fingered me, and beat me with a belt. He even sold me
for sex!
Maybe he started treating me that way because of my appearance. I was always
running around in skimpy clothes, and my body was developing nicely, lean and toned, the
breasts high and rounded, my bottom firm and curved just enough. I'd also let my
chestnut-colored hair grow out very long, almost to my waist, and I wore it loose and
tousled, trampy-looking, really. I probably looked like I was just asking for it.
My stepfather grabbed me once in a while, and that gave me an odd thrill, though I
really wanted him to just leave me alone.
One evening, while my mother was out, he came up behind me while I was doing the
dishes. I was wearing a pair of faded, denim cut-offs that showed about a half an inch of
my bottom, no panties. He stood there a moment, and then grabbed my bottom and gave it a
hard pinch.
"Please don't do that, Carl," I squealed.
"I think you like it," he laughed. "You're a naughty little
thing in general, a real spoiled baby. Maybe I should make you wear a diaper around the
house, a very small one, bikini-size, that and nothing else. Would you like that, Karen?
Would you like to run around the house in a teenie-diaper?"
"I couldn't do that," I said softly. His hand was still on my
bottom, and my pussy was tingling.
"We'll see about that," he laughed and then walked away. "You
might just have to."
When my mother was at home, the atmosphere seemed strained, but fortunately she and
my stepfather were off at their jobs during the day, and they both traveled regularly on
business trips.
I was often at loose ends that summer, and Ellen Haskin was always glad to see me
no matter how busy she might be. She worked at home, and she was usually at her computer
whenever I arrived. But she'd always put her work aside to sit and talk with me over
a glass of iced tea or lemonade.
Ellen was about 30 years my senior, but she managed to connect with me in a very
genuine way, and it wasn't long before I was telling her my problems, my lack of
plans for the future. Still, there was something very authoritarian about her, and I some
times felt a little waif-like in her presence, mostly because she dressed so smartly,
usually tailored skirts and silk blouses, and I was always in a t-shirt and faded jeans or
even cut-offs, usually just barefoot. But it was summer, and I wanted to feel free. At
times, Ellen seemed almost amused at my lack of formality.
"I like your rather casual way of dress, Karen," she said to me one
afternoon. "It wouldn't suit me, of course, but I think girls your age feel so
much better when they're allowed to run around bare, or at least almost bare."
Shortly after that afternoon, Ellen started taking charge of me. I walked over to
her house one evening, and she made me comfortable on a couch. I always felt so content
when I was there. The living room had heavy drapes, low lighting, and rich furnishings.
Ellen brought out iced tea for us and then sat next to me. After some chit chat,
she began talking with me about my future.
"I'm just not sure of anything anymore, Ms. Haskin," I told her.
"You need guidance, dear, and that's why I'm going to tell you a few
things that might shock you," she finally said. "You must listen to me with an
open mind."
Yes, I was shocked by what she told me, but I was also very curious to learn more.
It seemed that Ellen had been the assistant director at a very exclusive girls'
boarding school, and she'd taken part in disciplining students who broke the rules.
"We didn't mollycoddle our girls," she told me. "A student
who'd committed an infraction of the rules had to remove every stitch of her clothing
in front of me and at least two other administrators. Once she was nude, we'd fasten
her up and then beat her bottom with a leather strap. Believe me, those young ladies
learned that we meant business."
As she spoke, I looked over at her. She was staring off as if imagining those days,
smiling, her eyes glowing. When she finally looked over at me, I suddenly felt very naked.
I was wearing cut-offs, my feet bare, and my white-shirt t-shirt hugged my breasts, no
bra, the brown nipples clearly outlined.
I asked if the girls ever got mad at her.
"Some did, but only for a short time," she told me. "Eventually,
they understood that I was actually helping them. Many have written to me and thanked me
for teaching them to live in a balanced and well-ordered fashion."
As I tried to absorb what she was saying, I was surprised to feel a strange
tingling in my pussy.
"I'm telling you this because I think you need some girls' school
discipline, Karen," she said slowly, placing a hand on my bare thigh.
With very little trouble, Ellen Haskin coaxed me into taking a spanking that very
night. She urged me out of what little clothing I had on, and the next thing I knew I was
lying facedown on a long couch, totally naked.
I trusted Ellen, and I didn't even think to protest when she fastened my hands
behind my back with a short, leather belt.
"Just relax, sweetheart," she said as she finished with my wrists and
began belting my ankles together. "Since this is your first time, I'm just going
to give you a hand-spanking. Yes, it's going to sting, but after it's over,
you'll be glad you decided to go through it."
By then, I had no choice in the matter. She had me trussed up tight. She could
spank me as much as she liked, and there was nothing I could do about it. I was nude and
helpless.
After pulling a straightback up next to the couch, she rested a hand on my bare
bottom. And when I glanced up at her, I saw that she was smiling, clearly pleased with
me.
"Maybe you'll wind up being my special girl, my baby doll," she
cooed to me. "But right now I believe it's time I attended to your luscious
little rump."
Suddenly, she was spanking me, her hand walloping my bottom over and again. I let
out a surprised gasp and then began wriggling at the couch, fighting the belts that held
me fast. I don't think she gave me an unduly harsh spanking, but it stung deeply, and
my flesh began growing very warm.
I wanted to somehow prove myself to her. I bit my lip, trying to take it without
crying out, but that became impossible after she'd given me about a dozen good
swats.
"Ouch," I said after an especially hard whack. "It burns, Ms.
Haskin."
She chuckled. "But you're going to take it like a good little girl,
aren't you?" she said.
"Yes, ma'am," I mumbled, trying to sound like I meant it.
What could I do? I was completely naked and fastened up with leather belts. She
could spank me all night if she wanted to.
Before it was all over, she probably gave me three dozen solid whacks. By then, I
was twisting from side to side and worming my puss at the couch, blushing all over,
shamed.
"All right, I guess you've had enough," she said as she got up.
"Are you going to let me go now?" I whimpered.
"I'll let you go when I'm good and ready to," she said sternly.
"Until then, you can just lie there and be glad that someone cares enough to give you
the kind of discipline that teenage girls seem to need so badly, especially the pretty
ones like you, Karen."
She got up and went about her business. She even made a telephone call, and when I
heard her saying something about spanking, I was almost certain she was talking about me.
When she released me, she allowed me to get dressed and then told me it was getting
late, that it was time for me to go home.
I left, feeling confused. My mother and stepfather were already in bed by the time
I walked in. I crept to my room, stripped naked, and crawled into bed.
I awoke in the middle of the night with a sore bottom. But I when I began thinking
about Ellen Haskin spanking me, my pussy became wet and started tingling in a very odd
way.
As I rubbed my bottom at the bed, I fingered myself. And when I thought of being
nude and bound in front of Ms. Haskin, I my feet skittered about and I went off into
orgasms that shook my whole body.
I'd been through an experience that puzzled me greatly, and I wondered if the
spanking I'd taken that night was going to be the last of it.
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