Little Bit Shot by Step Dad to Save Baby Sister

  No Daddy, No!

a collection of male parent spanks girl stories

by

Perry Symon Fowler

All rights reserved

Copyright © September 2016 by Perry Symon Fowler

Published by LSF Publications

http://www.lsfpublications.com/

Comprehend blueprint by Nathaniel Scott.

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction which depicts non-consensual spanking. Whatever resemblance to actual persons, places or events is purely coincidental.

Strict daddies, stern step-fathers and misbehaving teenage daughters ... the perfect combination for a naughty daughter going over her daddy's genu for a bare bottom spanking. In this drove of stories, the fathers represent no nonsense, and various teen girls become their bottoms soundly spanked with hand, paddle or hairbrush. Though they may plead and wail and promise to be expert, they are all properly punished. Many take to confess their delinquency before the spanking starts, and many are disciplined close to an open up window and then that their embarrassed wails and yelps can be heard by neighbours; it all adds to the humiliation of the disgraced teenage daughter... who inevitably ends upward over the paternal lap time and time again every bit she submits to her daddy'south discipline.

This collection features the following stories: Attitude; The Mitchell Protocol; The Walk of Shame; The Persuader; Breakfast at Suzie'southward; and The Triple Play.

Contents

Attitude

The Mitchell Protocol

The Walk of Shame

The Persuader

Breakfast at Suzie'southward

The Triple Play

Also from LSF Publications...

Attitude

Every bit presently as they arrived habitation, Dan Carrothers sent Vanessa straight to her room. There had been a disagreement before that evening, and he'd promised her an extremely painful lesson on the ride in from town. This left no room for doubt on Nessa'southward part; she knew from prior feel precisely what he had in store for her. Dan's philosophy was elementary: the easiest way to settle a dispute was to take his daughter straight over his human knee and give her a spanking. Not merely a few sharp whacks on the derriere, either: Dan specialized in long, hard and extremely thorough strappings... the kind which invariably left her weeping and breathless, unable to sit down for days afterwards.

Standing in the living room, Vanessa tearfully begged her male parent to permit her off - or at least reduce her punishment to some less severe alternative. The argument hadn't been very serious, and she was sorry now; it would never happen again. She was too quondam for a spanking, she wasn't a child, she was 18 years erstwhile! None of her friends had to endure parental spankings, information technology just wasn't right.

"Delight, Daddy, not a spanking," she wailed, drastic to overturn the final verdict, "It'due south non fair, I'm too large for that. You can't spank me like a footling girl, you can't!"

Unfortunately for Vanessa, Dan was totally unimpressed past his daughter's rhetoric. He was her father, and as far as he was concerned, she'd never be too old to go over his knee joint. It made no divergence to him that her friends never received spankings. Tonight, she'd be going to bed with a hot, throbbing lesser, and that was the end of information technology.

"At present - up to your room, immature lady," Dan told her, gesturing towards the stairway. "I'll be along to deal with you in a moment."

And then Vanessa ran weeping up to her room, already feeling her father's hot, stinging palm-print on her soft, curvaceous tushie. Throwing herself on the bed, she cried piteously, knowing she had no one to blame only herself. She knew her father well enough to realize that disagreements just led to a well-smacked bottom. She listened apprehensively for his inevitable approach, imagining how much it was going to hurt.

Why did she ever argue with him? All she had to do was go on her mouth shut and pay him the respect he deserved. She'd been over his genu besides many times to claim ignorance of the law: he'd been spanking her for years now, and she was well aware he had little tolerance for dissent.

After what seemed similar an eternity, she heard his footsteps coming up the stairs. She flake her lip confronting the oncoming overflowing of fresh tears, and sat up on the bed, ready to beginning pleading for charity the moment he walked into the room. She knew in that location was piffling hope of a final minute reprieve, simply there was nothing else she could practise. She absolutely dreaded being stretched beyond her Daddy'south lap - and with skillful reason.

Dan stepped through the doorway, a alpine, wiry man with wide shoulders and lean, muscular arms. He carried a short, blackness razor-strap in his right mitt.

Nessa's eyes widened in alert. She quailed at the sight of the strap. Nooo!

It was the strop: a x-inch length of hardened leather, particularly adapted to fit Dan's wide hand. Different others of its kind, this 1 was strong and rigid, more like a paddle than a belt. Now she knew precisely how painful this spanking was going to be. His choice of musical instrument meant that he was going to pay particular attention to her upper thighs. Vanessa immediately lapsed into loud sobs of fear and supplication:

"No, Daddy, no, please not the strop, it hurts also much! Delight Daddy, don't apply the strop!"

Dan sat downwardly on a nearby chair, completely ignoring her frantic pleas, and took off his jacket. He then flexed the leather against his left mitt, checking its weight and swing. Information technology was perfect every bit always, the one implement he could trust to render his daughter's lesser a hot, glowing crimson.

Vanessa covered her face up and sobbed bitterly: she could tell by the expression on his face up that she'd exist over his knee for a good x minutes at the very least.

Dan opted for a good, stiff talking-to before he got down to business concern. Scolding was, in Dan's stance, one of the most important components of the disciplinary process, allowing Vanessa ample opportunity to regret her misbehavior and bulldoze abode the signal that she was getting exactly what she deserved. Being spoken to similar a naughty little girl also added to the embarrassment she was already feeling.

When he finally finished the scolding, Dan chosen her over to his chair and instructed her to accept down her shorts and underpants. This was the part which Vanessa hated the most. She remembered the many times over the years when she'd been required to perform this ritual, helplessly undoing her jeans and presenting her naked lesser for parental bailiwick.

Taking down her panties was utter humiliation - despite the frequent spankings she'd received from her begetter, she'd never quite gotten used to baring her bottom to him. She lowered her shorts to the floor, then begged him to permit her at to the lowest degree the dignity of a panty spanking.

"No, Daddy, delight don't make me blank my bottom, allow me keep my panties up, you lot don't know how bad it is-"

"You get those panties downward now young lady," Dan growled, his voice rising in paternal fury.

The explicit threat in his voice overrode all desire to preserve her modesty. Sobbing in abject misery, Vanessa slipped her underpants down to her upper-thighs, hoping to get abroad with but a fractional baring. Merely Dan wouldn't stand for it. He was going to paddle her ruby all the style from her tender young lesser-cheeks to her smooth alabaster thighs. Tears flowing freely, Vanessa bent over to pare her lacy pink panties all the way down to her ankles. She was absolutely burning with shame now; her father had a completely unobstructed view of her lesser.

When she straightened upwardly, Dan reached out, took her by the wrist, and led her over his knee. She was crying steadily at present, whimpering little pleas for mercy while he shifted her over his lap to allow for maximum effect. Once he'd placed her botto

thousand into the well-nigh vulnerable position he could observe, he paused to survey the job ahead. Her lush, pale bottom cheeks were staring at the ceiling, clenching and unclenching with anticipation.

Dan Carrothers was something of an skilful, a man who took pride in his piece of work. His spankings were unusually long, generally lasting for at to the lowest degree 10 minutes, and often stretching out to fifteen. Today he might attempt for a new record. He ever started with some initial hand work, working slowly up to a throbbing ruby-red. When his paw got tired, he would merely switch to an instrument. Today, of class, he'd be attention to Vanessa'due south bottom with the leather hand-strop.

Vanessa continued her whimpered pleadings. "Don't ... please Daddy ... no don't, noooo."

Dan ignored her, raising his paw high over his head. Vanessa clutched her bottom cheeks against the expected blow, bursting into new tears - her time had come. She lay passively over his knee, sobbing piteously. How could this be happening to her? She was eighteen years former, a senior in high school. None of her friends had to endure paternal spankings, their parents treated them like adults. Yet here she was, draped over her father'south knee, panties down, bottom upwardly, about to accept a good, hard spanking like a six-yr-old girl!

Dan'southward hard, broad mitt finally came down, meeting Vanessa's soft, quivering bottom with a high, sharp cracking sound that could have been heard halfway downwards the street. Vanessa screamed in pain, boot her feet helplessly as each blow descended. Dan gave her lesser his total attention, alternate between each cheek, watching equally the daze-waves resonated all the way down her thighs. Dan fell into a long, rolling rhythm, smacking away with all the strength of his strong right arm. Vanessa's bottom swiftly warmed to a bright, glowing red. The flush began to spread inevitably downward her legs.

As mentioned before, Dan was an extremely thorough spanker, working his fashion systematically over every available inch of bottom flesh, covering both cheeks equally, and devoting plenty of time to repetitious spanking. He always made certain to spank the same spot over and over again: there was no point in punishing the daughter unless information technology was actually going to injure her.

He was also very careful to apply his hand to the upper thighs, just below the curve of her cheeks. In Dan's experience, this was the most painful portion of a spanking, especially later he'd switched to the paddle. He often devoted the last six or seven minutes of a spanking solely to Vanessa's upper thighs, during which fourth dimension she would shriek and squirm on his lap in a most frenzy. He usually had to hold her down on his lap to prevent her landing on the floor.

By the time Dan had completed the 'hands-on' phase of the spanking, Vanessa's bottom was covered with a pulsing strawberry-red chroma which reached from the peak of her cheeks half-way down to her knees. Shining and tender, yous could almost meet the rut rising from information technology.

Vanessa lay doubled over her Dan's lap, sobbing out exhausted petty pleas for leniency.

"No more than, Daddy, please don't spank me any more, I've learned my lesson, I'll never do it once more."

Fifty-fifty the most determined of fathers would have been satisfied past this point; the task was washed, the culprit punished, and parental justice was served.

But Dan Carrothers was something of a perfectionist; domestic correction should never be hampered by false sorrow or remorseful tears. He was definitely not the kind of man to let his naughty trivial girl off with a paltry eight minute hand-spanking.

It was time for the strop.

---oOo---

"No Daddy no! Please, non the hone!"

Vanessa'southward lush, smoothen bottom-cheeks were already hot, reddish and throbbing. The idea of her father'south heavy leather mitt-paddle existence practical to them reduced her to a fresh spasm of helpless, sobbing pleas. Here she was, limply stretched over Dan's lap, lesser turned up to the ceiling for her latest well earned spanking, crying like a lost child. Tears of warm shame streamed down her cheeks while Dan picked up the strop in his sure, firm grip. Smiling grimly, Dan nodded approval at its hard, abrupt weight, taking a practice stroke through the air. Vanessa shrieked equally the leather whistled directly higher up her tender, unprotected derriere.

"At present, nosotros're going to deal with your little attitude problem once and for all," Dan told her, "I've had enough of your sulking and petulance, and information technology'south loftier time you learnt a bit of respect for the human of the house." He settled her back into position, ignoring her frantic struggling, and raised the strop over his head.

"No, Daddy, nooooo!" the girl cried, trying to cover her bottom with her hand. "Delight don't, it'll hurt really bad!"

"You lot take that hand out of the mode, or I'll make this a lot worse, young lady," Dan warned. "Y'all're long overdue for a skillful, difficult spanking, and I'1000 going to make sure you become everything you have coming to y'all. Now stop that squirming and concur your bottom upward."

Vanessa removed her mitt, sobbing miserably.

This had to be the worst spanking of her life (even worse than the time Dan aptitude her over the armchair and thrashed her with the plume duster. That had lasted a expert twelve minutes, and her round, naked bottom had been absolutely criss-crossed with glowing pinkish stripes that took days to fade). Dan continued to scold her in his stern, paternal tone; lecturing on her responsibilities as a girl, and reminding her that she could blame no-1 but herself. Vanessa wept pitifully, alternately flinching and clenching against the inevitable caress of the leather.

Finally, the hone flashed down beyond her bottom.

The leather met her mankind where the cheeks overlap the upper thighs. Hurting erupting like an exploding star halfway downwards her legs, Vanessa screamed at the top of her lungs. Dan drew dorsum and the hone slashed down in a cherry hot arc. The girl kicked and bucked on his lap, her long blonde hair flying. Dan favored her upper thighs, laying on smack after agonizing smack onto her tortured little fanny.

If Vanessa thought her begetter'southward mitt-spankings had been painful, they were nothing compared to this treadmill of agony. Holding her firmly in place with his left paw, Dan watched in growing satisfaction equally her lesser gradually inverse from carmine to a precipitous, angry and tormented shade of red. He swept down mercilessly, increasing his speed and force with each blow. Nessa sobbed and gasped and shrilled, hiding her face in her hands, close to the floor.

"Daddy no!" she wailed. "Not like that, don't hit me in the same spot, it hurts too much. Don't, noooo!"

Leather continued to rain down on the girl'southward lower bottom and upper thighs. If there was ane matter Dan Carrothers had learnt in all his years of disciplining his daughter, it was that repetitious spanking got the message through, come up what may. It would exist a long time before she questioned his will over again, by god. Dan redoubled his efforts, the paddle flying with baking velocity.

"Owww! Daddy, not my thighs! Stop it – it hurts! Owwww, it hurts!"

Vanessa's mind was spinning: she was small and naughty and helpless; and her bottom was and so sore. The spanking went on and on like it would never stop, and all she could do was beg and whimper and cry. Her father was and so much bigger and stronger than she was. He could take her over his knee like a vi-year-old daughter, and in that location was absolutely nothing she could practise about information technology. His spankings were long and embarrassing and they hurt so much. How could she ever confront her friends at schoolhouse after this? What if they somehow found out? She was the only daughter in her course who had to bare her bottom; they'd never permit her live it downwardly. In an other year, she'd be the only daughter at University to take regular spankings from her father - she'd never live that downwardly, either.

How long had she been over his knee? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? Xx-five? Information technology felt like forever. Each stroke of the strop seared her bottom similar blue burn down. Vanessa's litany of child-like pleadings had no effect on Dan Carrothers; he was determined to teach his little daughter the lesson of her life tonight. He alternated swiftly betwixt soft, vulnerable cheeks, periodically switching over to lavish his attending on her slender, quivering thighs.

"Ow! Aaaooww! Ow-aaooww!!"

After what seemed like two years, Dan put the strop down and stood Vanessa up beside the chair. She stood trembling on uneasy anxiety, rubbing her o

utraged little bottom with careful hands. Her tushie glowed a brilliant tone of cherry red. Dan closely inspected the radiant chroma which covered her derriere all the way down to her mid-thighs. A good night's piece of work, true enough, he decided, but not quite complete. Not yet, anyway.

"Now - fourth dimension to finish upwardly, little girl," Dan told her. "Feet together, legs directly; bend over and put your easily on the back of the chair."

Vanessa'southward eyes widened in fearfulness and shock, a new inundation of tears cascaded downward her face. It still wasn't over!

"No, Daddy, no more than, information technology'south too much. I can't have any more than, please Daddy, I tin't stand it!" She swiped at her wet optics with the back of her pocket-sized manus, crying openly.

"You'll take as much as I dish out," Dan told her sternly. "Now curve over and have your medicine, or yous'll be going back over my genu for another x minutes."

Vanessa wailed, but complied with her begetter's command, grasping the chair-back with both easily and bending over to class an inverted right angle with her body. The activeness caused her to thrust her lesser out, ready for the hone'south final administration.

Dan raised the leather once more than.

---oOo---

Placing his costless paw on the small of her dorsum to steady himself, Dan paused for a moment, considering which spot should experience the first cutting swipe. His eyes wandered over the splendid rose tinge of Vanessa's cute, middle-shaped bottom. A magnificent work of fine art, it needed only a few finishing touches to consummate the composition.

Nessa braced herself for the touch, squeezing another pair of enormous tears out of her tightly closed eyes. Standing similar this with her pastel pink undies gathered around her ankles (and her pretty little tushie glowing in the cool evening air), she felt humiliated across all measure. She'd been scolded similar a naughty schoolhouse girl and reduced to whimpering tears of remorse. She'd been forced to behave her bottom similar a disobedient kid, enduring both her father'southward business firm right hand and the irresistible stroke of his leather manus-strop.

Little Bit Shot by Step Dad to Save Baby Sister

Source: https://graycity.net/perry-symon-fowler/411094-no_daddy_no_a_collection_of_father_spanks_daughter_stories.html

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