Story from Swish Vol.4 No.4
The washing-up could wait, Sandra decided. She liked to read the morning paper first and take it easy. But her father-in-law had other ideas — and how easily Sandra took those was something else.
‘You haven’t tidied the kitchen up yet, I see,’ Frank said as he came into the living room where his daughter-in-law Sandra sat reading her way through the morning paper.
Sandra’s eyes flashed immediately. What a bloody cheek, she thought. It hadn’t been her idea for him to come and visit them so soon in their new house and right now she wanted to be left on her own. It was a lovely morning and she felt lazy. Sod the kitchen!
‘No, I haven’t, not yet — so what?’ she flared watching him flop into the chair opposite hers. But he was regarding her mildly and almost with amusement. ‘Nothing much,’ he shrugged, ‘but his mother always does it first thing, or one of his sisters. It’s nice to see a tidy kitchen after breakfast — an hour after breakfast,’ Frank added carefully. There was a slight flush on her cheeks which he had expected.
‘Well, I’m not…’ Sandra began. She had meant to say she was not his wife or one of his daughters, but it might sound too rude. ‘I’ll do it in a minute,’ she said shortly, hating even having to say that to him. Inside her she was fuming. No gentleman would ever have said such a thing. He should have just waited for her to do it. ‘Anyway, I’m going to have another coffee — you want one?’ she asked, trying to take the edge off of the mood.
He nodded genially and watched her spring up — a lovely lithe young thing, small for her twenty years but perfectly curved in all the right places. Her tits bobbed firmly under her thin grey sweater. Obviously no bra on. And tiny panties, too. He could see the ridging vee of them under her skirt as she swept out. Frank leaned back and sighed. It was one bottom he hadn’t unveiled and spanked yet, and he meant to. Sandra was going to be real bouncy under his palm when he got down to it. Would it be new to her? He’d wondered about that in the past year of her engagement and then marriage to Mark.
The thought stirred him more and he got up and strolled out after her. Sandra stood with her back to the door, waiting for the electric kettle to whistle. Like a train coming out of a tunnel, she always thought and gave a guilty, sideways look at the cups, saucers and plates still waiting to be washed up on the sink top. Then with an awful start she felt a big pair of hands suddenly smooth under the tight cheeks of her bottom.
Sandra jerked out a surprised ‘Oh!’ and moved one step sideways, turning towards him, but was disarmed immediately by her father-in-law’s grin. ‘I bet it’s been spanked for leaving things untidy,’ he said. He could still feel the round warmth of her bottom on his palms. Beneath her skirt and sweater she obviously had nothing on but her panties and nylons. Sandra stared at him and then half-giggled. God, he was rude, touching her like that! ‘I haven’t — no I haven’t,’ she said and moved back slightly warily while pretending to tidy the things on the sink.
Frank’s eyes narrowed in surprise, ‘Never? Never been spanked?’ he asked and there was such surprise in his voice that she almost laughed. It wasn’t true, but she wasn’t going to tell him so. But it made her blush, and that was maddening. It was funny being alone with him like this and she was not sure whether she liked it or not. ‘Ah, well,’ he said quizzically and gave her quite a nice smile, ‘I guess I’ll have to see to you some time then.’ Sandra’s pretty mouth opened. At five feet three herself and he nearly six feet, he seemed to tower over her. She knew that feeling. Especially when she had done something wrong.
‘Oh, I s’pose you know all about it,’ she said sarcastically, and wished she hadn’t. It seemed to invite him to make further remarks, and it did. ‘A bit — I’ve had some practice,’ he answered, ‘and don’t be sarky, or…’
Sandra spun round to face him. She wasn’t going to put up with this. ‘Or what?’ she snapped, ‘listen, I don’t have to take anything from you and this is my house and… no-oooooh!’ The surprised screech trilled from her throat as with a single sweep of his arm he hooked her waist and lifted her clean off the floor. ‘You stop it!’ she squealed, kicking madly, but he had lifted her right up and she found herself swinging crazily in his arms like a cradled doll as he carried her back into the living room.
‘You’re not going to!’ Sandra yelled wildly, feeling for a moment as if the floor were collapsing. For in falling backwards into the armchair he had occupied a few minutes before, he had taken her with him and with a cry of total alarm Sandra found herself dangling over his lap, bottom up, with a steely arm encircling her twenty-one-inch waist.
Frank held her tight, feeling a little breathless that he had acted so quickly and on impulse and stirred already by the bulbous brushing of her breasts as they had passed over his thighs. She would quieten in a moment. They always did. ‘You don’t want your new neighbours to hear,’ he managed to get in among her outraged shrieks. For a moment it made no difference to a wildly head-shaking Sandra, but then the realisation broke in on her of how her screams might sound and for long seconds she lay there protesting more quietly while Frank’s hand rested casually on the upcurve of her bottom.
‘You’re not going to,’ she gritted, her heels kicking up in vain. ‘I’ll tell Mark!’ Frank grinned down at the long golden hair which lay tousled now about her face, the strands all parted at the back. ‘You won’t — not after I’ve finished with you,’ he said and began sliding the back of her skirt up. ‘Na-aaah!’ she screeched again then and vainly tried to reach a hand back to stop him, but her skirt was short and already her stocking tops were exposed. ‘Please no… please no… please no, no!’ Sandra spluttered wildly.
‘All right,’ his voice came to her, fingers splayed across the bare flesh of the back of one of her thighs. ‘I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. We’ll make a bargain if you like. I’m going to give you six smacks through your panties — not taking them off. That’s if you agree — for being untidy and sarcastic, too. If you don’t, I swear I’ll rip them down and give you a hard dozen — and you’ll feel it. Well?’
Sandra’s palms rested on the new carpet which her nose almost touched. He was going to — she knew he was going to, whatever happened now. ‘But no — look — please — I don’t want — six is too many,’ she blathered, scarcely knowing what she was saying now. And worse, he accepted it as agreement, his big hand immediately sweeping her skirt right up until her knickered bottom was completely exposed to him while Sandra endeavoured to choke down another would-be scream. ‘Right! Five, then, and not six — I’ll go along with you,’ she heard him say, his eyes searching the exquisite half-bared cheeks which mounded up so pertly to him.
Delicious. That was the only word. Tight and small and beautiful — and he could see almost all of it. Her panties were next to transparent and the curve of her groove where the chubby cheeks inrolled made a dark but clear shadow beneath. ‘D… d… d…!’ Sandra stuttered and grabbed with one hand at the short leg of the armchair as she somehow felt the rising of his hand. Oh God, she hadn’t had this for well over a year now! Then… SMACK! came his palm, bouncing off of her bottom and bringing a long howl from Sandra whose eyes tightened up just as her nether cheeks did under the sudden stinging.
Her bottom jerked up, giving Frank an even better view. Her legs were in perfect proportion to her body and looked as pretty as in a stocking advertisement. Sheer and gleaming, her dark nylons ended halfway up her thighs, the sides and fronts drawn up in tight peaks where the suspender clips held them. Then a long wail broke from Sandra again as his palm met her already smarting cheeks in a second and louder SMACK! that made her head jerk up.
‘St… st… stop it — please — oh!’ she howled, but the arm clamp around her waist was as tight as ever. There was no way she could escape now as Frank well knew. It was the best position to start them off when you had a really strong arm. Later, when their bottoms got more used to the stings and absorbed them with petulant but more passionate wriggling, it was different. That was when you peeled their panties down without too much of a struggle and got them kneeling on the bed maybe. And later… but no, he would have to think about that, with Sandra.
The rosy hue on the exposed parts of her cheeks was a delight to see. So was the way her already tight cheeks squeezed upon one another. ‘All right, all right,’ he soothed in response to her increased sobbings, and Sandra thought he had actually relented and stopped, but instead he began to stroke and soothe her bottom, working his fingers a little beneath the backstrap while she squirmed, her back arching. Then again it came, SMACK! and oh! the pearls of tears rolled from her eyes and down her face.
‘No! oh no!’ she squealed yet again, but Frank was firm with her as he knew from experience that he had to be. Sandra no longer seemed to care that he was actually now caressing the silky backs of her thighs — something which only a few minutes before would have seemed impossible. ‘I… I d… don’t w… want,’ she sobbed, only to be answered by his hand moving comfortingly over the hot globe of her botty and gently squeezing the cheeks as she winced. But the wincing was as nothing to the deep-burning sting she next received as her father-in-law’s broad palm bounced off her resilient derriere for the fourth time.
‘Na… na… na… naaah!’ Sandra sobbed, her knees bending upwards as if in that way, too, she could help squeeze out the hot pain. ‘There, there,’ she dimly heard him saying and felt herself swung up again. This time her scorched cheeks bumped full down in to his lap and the sudden contact make her jerk and clutch at his neck for fear of falling backwards. Her eyes were sheened with tears, her petal mouth half open. It was a mouth beyond resistance and before Frank knew what he was doing he leaned her face back and kissed it.
‘D… d… d…’ Sandra stuttered against his mouth. She had meant to say don’t, but the word lost itself in the unexpected kiss and her bottom was wriggling so madly that she scarcely knew what was happening. Her skirt was up and her thighs showed. Then Frank leaned her back swiftly so that the back of her head came between the corner of the chair and his shoulder. Moving his lips from hers he kissed away the tear streaks than had run down her pretty face and slipped his hand higher up her thigh until his thumb felt a soft burr of curls beneath the vee of her panties.
Then, as quickly as he had fondled her, his hand slid down again and stayed over one rounded knee even as Sandra seemed to come to her senses. Struggling and pushing with her arms she managed to squirm up and push her skirt down. ‘Oh you! how could you!’ she burst and, escaping his quickly-extended arm, ran into the kitchen where she leaned for a long moment against a worktop, wondering how on earth it could have all happened. No, he couldn’t have touched her afterwards, not really, not between her thighs. She must have dreamed that. Her eyes closed and she swayed. Oh hell, her bottom stung still. The fire was spreading, as it always did after she had been spanked, but if he ever found out about that…
Then suddenly he was there, coming in so quietly that she scarcely had time to jump before he placed his arm around her shoulders. ‘Sorry,’ he said thickly and with such apparent sincerity that a half smile actually came to her lips and she looked up at him. ‘I mean it,’ Frank said, ‘I really am.’
It was crazy to even talk to him now, Sandra thought, but the words came floating from her mouth before she knew it. Often when she tried to get really angry she only managed a silly grin. For a brief moment she looked up at him and then her eyes dropped. ‘I should think so,’ she said, trying to make her voice sound outraged. His arm was firm and strong around her shoulders. ‘Spanking me like that and… well… spanking me,’ she finished lamely. But he had had his hand up her skirt afterwards — she knew it. ‘You’re horrible,’ she said, ‘and you’re….’
Frank turned her and spun her against him so that her juicy tits bounced into his shirtfront. This time his hand took the nape of her neck and held her. After the first spanking you had to show them who was master.
‘You’ll get it again,’ he said quietly and watched all the conflicting expressions in her eyes. A bubbling of protesting words began to come from her mouth, but as suddenly as he had gripped her so he released her. ‘Now tidy the kitchen,’ he said and walked out, closing the door.
‘Oh!’ Sandra screamed after him. She reached for the chrome door handle and then let her hand fall back. It was no good and she knew it. He bloody well knew she had to wash up sometime and her bottom-cheeks were throbbing. Only four, but he had smacked real hard. Harder than she had used to have. She turned to the sink, stiffening her legs slightly and stretching her back against the sensations that moved in her now. I wanted that, she thought crazily and then tore into herself — as people do — for ever thinking such a stupid thing. Then to her relief she heard the distant sound of the front door closing and realised that he had gone out.
Leaning against the sink she breathed a sigh of relief, then reached her hand up beneath the back of her skirt to feel the hot silkiness of her bottom-cheeks. If he had stayed she wouldn’t have known how to behave or what to say or do. Then she heard his car start and began to cry to herself a little hysterically. I don’t want to, I don’t want to, she thought in self-induced hysteria even while Frank — driving off — was smiling to himself. First round won. Now he had given her time to think about it. Staying in the house would have been too awkward. He would give her until after lunch. A lot of it would have hazed over then. The first time it was always best this way. If it were her first time. He doubted it even more now. When he had lifted her up into his lap her nipples had been peeking through her sweater, but he had deliberately not fondled her tits. That would come next time. Then gradually…
A little flushed and quiet, Sandra served supper that evening to Frank and Mark. Her father-in-law had returned at four thirty that afternoon and both of them had acted slightly stiltedly as if nothing had happened. But there was a feeling in her that kept welling up and wouldn’t go away. It would happen again, she knew it would. The breath seemed to leave her body at the thought. When she dressed the next morning and put on self-supporting stockings and her wispiest panties, she told herself that she only wanted to feel good.
Almost unseeing she made breakfast and kissed Mark goodbye. When Mark had begun to make love with her in the night she had slid her mouth down his body and for the first time with him settled her mouth warmly and softly over his knob, rearing her naked bottom up beneath the sheet while he groaned his pleasure. Oh, do it to me! she had thought madly — the way she used to have it, her bottom made so hot that she never knew what she was doing, then her mouth pulled down until she had begun to suck, sobbing and gulping still and telling herself she mustn’t. Sometimes the come had rushed and gobbed into her mouth. At other times she had been lifted and turned around again, her scorched bottom weaving wildly before her hips and seized and…
Oh no, she mustn’t ever think of that again. And she must wash up — she would in a moment. Before he caught her out again. She would just read the paper first, though. And if he tried to spank her she would scream and scream and… Her mind wandered crazily, trying to collect itself amid the short, sillier items of news. Inside herself she was trembling as she half listened to the sounds of her father-in-law moving around upstairs. It was as if she had two different minds — one that wanted her to go and wash-up and the other that was going to rebel. Deliberately.
None of which prevented Sandra from jumping up guiltily when he descended. In a sudden panic she made for the kitchen — but too late. Appearing from the hall, he stood in her way, smiling. ‘You see how easily it happens again?’ he asked. Then the rest was a blur — a wild struggling and screeching which availed her nothing. And this time he didn’t carry her to the armchair but upstairs — slung head down in a fireman’s lift over his shoulders while her fists drummed on his back and her legs kicked.
‘You’re not going to!’ Sandra yelped. Her foot scraped the new paint off the bedroom door as he carried her in. She tried everything — she tried to get away as she told herself ever after. She knew all about being spanked on a bed and how easily they could roll you on to it afterwards. But thoughts and protests were no good, for she was across his lap already where he had seated himself solidly on the edge of the bed and her mistily-veiled bottom was bared to his view where he had flipped her skirt up.
‘Whooo-hooo!’ Sandra blubbered a few seconds later as the first resounding SMACK! made her bottom cheeks quiver like jelly, ‘Oh stop it!’ But Frank had her now in the fully glory of her semi-transparent panties and the charcoal-shaded self-supporting stockings which reached only halfway up her thighs and made her legs look even more erotic. ‘Yeee-aaargh!’ came her next screech, her flawless, chubby cheeks going a deep pink already under the second and third steady, hard smacks.
‘Lie still!’ Frank said sternly as the upper part of her dangling body writhed over her knees. ‘Lie still, Sandra or you’ll get eight instead of six. You hear me now?!’ — ‘Ha-aaaar!’ she gasped as the fierce flames swept through her botty. Her legs straightened and her shoulders slumped. ‘You hear me, Sandra?’ Frank growled, his hand splayed across her hot cheeks, ‘Well?’ He waited — waited in the breath-rushing silence that followed. For a second or two he could actually hear the bedside clock ticking, and then it came… a small, quiet ‘Yes’ that barely reached his ears.
‘That’s better,’ he soothed, ‘Now lift your botty — well up. Come on now and I won’t smack so hard — all right?’ — ‘Y… yes,’ Sandra’s whisper came. She felt him stroke her thighs and her half-bared bottom-cheeks and sobbed within herself. It wasn’t fair — it wasn’t. How she bore the next ones she never knew. Whatever he said about not smacking her so hard, they were stingers — real stingers. Her bottom reared to each one, hands scrabbling madly in the carpet.
‘No, I won’t, I wont!’ Sandra began to sob even more madly when he then lifted and rolled her on to the bed, as she knew he would, and squashed down beside her. Frank ignored her. He knew such tantrums of old and how she would cuddle into him, tightly, defensively, while he stroked her hair back from her brow. Her tits bulbed into his chest and he wondered idly how big her nipples were — but he would find out soon. ‘D… d… don’t sp… spank me again,’ Sandra blubbered. Her legs and hips would have wriggled more if he hadn’t been cupping her bottom. Half-fearful she let it sink into his palm, seeking the pressure to help squeeze out the raging heat.
‘There, there — it’s all right — it’s all right,’ Frank soothed. He knew she didn’t expect him to promise anything now. And he knew too that she had had it before — the way her face was pressed in hiding into his shirtfront. Very delicately he slid his fingers under the backstrap of her panties and felt her clutch at him tighter. ‘No — please,’ Sandra burbled, but he ignored her, stilling her jerks and quivers as he toyed gently in the groove where the cheeks inrolled and then drew her in more tightly against him.
‘Lovely little botty — such beautiful legs,’ Frank breathed against her warm ear and Sandra closed her eyes tightly. She couldn’t help wriggling her bottom still and it was helping him — helping him to be wicked. Her nipples were hot and tingly, pressing through her top into his chest. His finger moved inwards, making her press with a startled, helpless cry full into the awful big thing she could feel under his slacks.
‘Don’t — you m… mustn’t,’ she whimpered, but now he had begun to push her head down, down. She tried to resist, but he was too strong. Her arms, released from her instinctive clinging to him, found themselves around his waist as her small, slim body was almost reversed upon him. Not daring to open her eyes she heard the small hissing sound of his zip. Something that felt like a huge, swollen plum urged itself against her lips. There was a salty, fleshy taste and then her head was pressed remorselessly down, her lips opening blindly to engulf the big, meaty knob in their moist rosebud.
‘Good girl — good girl, Sandra,’ she heard from somewhere above her. A last tear rolled down her cheek to the corner of her mouth and slid in turn upon the throbbing shaft of his cock as she began to suck on it steadily…Continued in All the Way…