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Spank Me

Date: 8/29/2015, Categories: Fiction, Incest, Male/Female, Spanking, Teen Male/Teen Female, Author: Unknow user, Rating: 77.8, Source: sexstories.com

spanking is for, don't you?" "Yes," she replied, afraid to look at him, "it's because of the chrysanthemums." "No it is not!" he said emphatically. "It's because of these!" As he said it, he jerked her black formal dress up to her waist. "Did I give you permission to wear pantyhose? You're not old enough to wear pantyhose!" "But... I'm eighteen, Father." "Don't disrespect me, young lady," he snarled, giving her a swift swat on the rump. "Take those infernal things off this instant." "Yes Father," she sighed, hoping not to rile him up further. She tried to shimmy the pantyhose down her hips, but it was a struggle with his leg in the way. By the time she had inched them down past her butt, she could tell her panties had inched lower too -- quite a bit lower -- but it was too late to do anything about that. "You're useless,!" he snorted, grabbing at the mess of panties and pantyhose and ripping them clear down to her knees. "I'll teach you, you little pantyhose-wearing slut." Heather froze, caught in a rush of adrenaline. Father Petri had never pulled her panties down before. Could this really be happening, or was it just a bad dream? As the sound of the first smack echoed off the walls of the study, she realized it was indeed not a dream. She waited the split second for the pain response, but this time, it felt different. Perhaps because of the adrenaline, or the embarrassment of baring her bottom, the swat didn't sting so much as send a surge of energy coursing through her ... pelvis, giving her a feeling like she had to pee. She let out a startled sob. "Two," father Petri announced, landing a solid blow to the other cheek. This one was just like the last one, except the pee sensation lasted longer and was more intense. "Three." As the blow landed, she let out a quiet squeal, not because it hurt, but because she was trying so hard to not let the pee escape from her bladder. While waiting for the fourth swat it occurred to her that she had just peed ten minutes ago. This eased her mind somewhat, but it didn't make the urge go away. "Four." This time, she tried to relax and absorb the blow, rather than tensing up and deflecting it. Perhaps because of this, Father Petri's hand remained buried in the softness of her peachy bottom, his fingers digging into her flesh, and down between her legs. This only made the pee sensation last even longer, and an involuntary quiver shook her hips. "Five!" Her pitiful warble caught in her throat like it does after a fit of crying, and her pelvis felt like it was going to explode. At this point, she didn't care if she did accidentally pee herself. She just wanted to let it out. She waited for swat number six. And waited. And waited. She could hear Father Petri's ragged breathing as his hand slithered around her bare butt, pausing here or there to explore a crease or crevice. The tension was unbearable. She wanted him to finish. She needed him to finish so the pent up feeling between her legs would finally be released. ...