From the diary of Mara, my stepdaughter - part two
Oh, my poor striped ass, mercilessly whipped by daddy's rod. My dear diary, I'm writing this lying on my stomach, of course, and I'm completely naked. I can't stand having clothes on my roughly whipped, whipped teenage ass. I have an ice pack on my bottom. Mommy put cream on the marks (which are horrible purple stripes that are almost ready to open) and that felt good, but it hurt terribly
-These two rebellious teenage buttocks were simply begging for daddy's rod, and when I was little, my stepdad had no mercy when it came to disciplining me. Both my stepdad and I believed that a fairly regular, harsh whipping with a cane or rod on bare skin was an essential part of raising a rebellious teenage girl. On such occasions, Mara accepted, without question, the need for corporal correction with the cane and knew that the intense pain of a cane was for her own good. While I was under my father's roof, if he was the least bit displeased with my work, my naked teenage ass was subjected to very severe corporal punishment. It was his pleasure to punish me harshly for every minor misdeed with the cane or wet rod.
-Corporal punishment, by its very nature, is a frightening thing. Corporal punishment with the cane or wet rod on bare skin is feared because it stings and hurts_. It is embarrassing, uncomfortable and lacking in dignity when my father orders me to strip naked for the cane, when I was a teenager and makes me stand in a straight position with my legs apart and my hands on my head for an hour in front of him waiting for the stinging whipping. And to be effective, corporal punishment has to hurt. It has to hurt a lot and make his sweet daughter scream, scream and cry, my stepfather often tells me.Corporal punishment should not be symbolic, but harsh - that is the goal. And Daddy whipped me with the utmost pleasure. Each juicy cut of the cane dug deep into my small, fleshy, developing teenage ass, and each time my roughly whipped ass twitched and trembled in anticipation of the next stroke of the cane. Each stroke of the cane on my bare teenage skin left an intense red bump that gradually turned purple at the edges.
My stepfather's harsh caning and wet rod on my bare skin from an early age laid the foundation for my later passion for caning, I had become a young lady who enjoyed spanking and I think I had sexualized my corporal punishment.
-My stepfather, Mr. Mastercane, was aware that there was a very subtle line between pleasure and pain. Mara, now I'm going to punish you so harshly until you truly cross the psychological boundary between pleasure and pain and then I'll continue to whip you so harshly until I definitely color this stick red. Disobedience and laziness will be replaced by abundant tears, inhuman screams and a lot of blood "Then I was a pre-teen and my father whipped me until I fainted, Mara wrote in her diary. In the evening I woke up in a warm bed with my father who was applying cream to my wounds. I was having spasms, my whole body was shaking and I couldn't speak. I hope I don't have to correct you so harshly again, Mara, my father whispered in my ear. My father hugged me and kissed my forehead, telling me how much he loved me. Something was starting to come to life between my legs. I was starting to get used to the pain and I actually liked it. He aimed his canes perfectly below the crease, right at the border between my buttocks and thighs, where the reforming cane did a great job, causing me unbearable pain. Daddy would whip my bare skin as hard as he could and was delighted to hear the painful reaction of the girl being punished out of pure pleasure. The sharp scream after each impact of the cane on my bare skin assured him that the excruciating pain was training his pre-teen girl properly, according to all the pedagogical manuals of juvenile discipline. He took 30 seconds between each harsh cane stroke to let its disciplinary effects assimilate into my flesh torn by his pre-teen daughter. After the screams of pain stopped and his girl calmed down, he administered the next blow with even greater force. He continued like this for up to 15 blows, making me make inhuman sounds in my throat and writhe like a fish on dry land from the sting. My stepfather liked what he saw, his stepdaughter assimilated corporal discipline according to the highest standards of pain. After this torture, he took me by the ear and led me naked into the reflection room, he caught my wrists with a rope and tied them to my ankles, leaving me tied like that in the dark for three hours, on the cold basement floor. At ten o'clock he came and took me to the shower and then ordered me to go to bed. I could feel my rough, whipped ass burning and throbbing and it was hard to think about anything else. I wish my dad wouldn't punish me if I didn't make a mistake... Tomorrow was another day.
-Hi, Diary. Daddy just whipped me with a cane for breaking a plate and not cleaning up the mess. He took me to the pedagogical training room, tied me to the punishment horse with straps and whipped me with the juvenile reformation cane 25 times on my bare buttocks, after which came 10 blows with the wet rod taken out of the brine diagonally until my ass bled. The rod he whipped me with was now tinged with red, from my blood. As I lie in bed, I tremble in pain with bandages over my tortured buttocks. My body is in agony, I spasm, I sob continuously, even a slight movement causes waves of excruciating pain and stinging. I run my hand over my teenage buttocks, under the bandages, feeling the painful ridges and deep cuts in the skin left by my stepdad's juvenile reformation rod, each still inflamed, swollen and very throbbing, the blood stopped, the bandage absorbing some of it. I try to sleep. I was a rebellious teenager then and I will not break plates again. Perhaps my stepdad had sensed that, ever since I was on the verge of teenager, the cane of correction and the rod of instruction excited me in a strange way; hating the pain at the moment of the stinging whipping, but enjoying the warm glow that came later and then the itchy sensation between my legs that raised juicy streaks on my teenage girlish ass. I love you, dad, and your discipline.Thank you and I promise I will be back. Now, Mara wishes you good night.
-These two rebellious teenage buttocks were simply begging for daddy's rod, and when I was little, my stepdad had no mercy when it came to disciplining me. Both my stepdad and I believed that a fairly regular, harsh whipping with a cane or rod on bare skin was an essential part of raising a rebellious teenage girl. On such occasions, Mara accepted, without question, the need for corporal correction with the cane and knew that the intense pain of a cane was for her own good. While I was under my father's roof, if he was the least bit displeased with my work, my naked teenage ass was subjected to very severe corporal punishment. It was his pleasure to punish me harshly for every minor misdeed with the cane or wet rod.
-Corporal punishment, by its very nature, is a frightening thing. Corporal punishment with the cane or wet rod on bare skin is feared because it stings and hurts_. It is embarrassing, uncomfortable and lacking in dignity when my father orders me to strip naked for the cane, when I was a teenager and makes me stand in a straight position with my legs apart and my hands on my head for an hour in front of him waiting for the stinging whipping. And to be effective, corporal punishment has to hurt. It has to hurt a lot and make his sweet daughter scream, scream and cry, my stepfather often tells me.Corporal punishment should not be symbolic, but harsh - that is the goal. And Daddy whipped me with the utmost pleasure. Each juicy cut of the cane dug deep into my small, fleshy, developing teenage ass, and each time my roughly whipped ass twitched and trembled in anticipation of the next stroke of the cane. Each stroke of the cane on my bare teenage skin left an intense red bump that gradually turned purple at the edges.
My stepfather's harsh caning and wet rod on my bare skin from an early age laid the foundation for my later passion for caning, I had become a young lady who enjoyed spanking and I think I had sexualized my corporal punishment.
-My stepfather, Mr. Mastercane, was aware that there was a very subtle line between pleasure and pain. Mara, now I'm going to punish you so harshly until you truly cross the psychological boundary between pleasure and pain and then I'll continue to whip you so harshly until I definitely color this stick red. Disobedience and laziness will be replaced by abundant tears, inhuman screams and a lot of blood "Then I was a pre-teen and my father whipped me until I fainted, Mara wrote in her diary. In the evening I woke up in a warm bed with my father who was applying cream to my wounds. I was having spasms, my whole body was shaking and I couldn't speak. I hope I don't have to correct you so harshly again, Mara, my father whispered in my ear. My father hugged me and kissed my forehead, telling me how much he loved me. Something was starting to come to life between my legs. I was starting to get used to the pain and I actually liked it. He aimed his canes perfectly below the crease, right at the border between my buttocks and thighs, where the reforming cane did a great job, causing me unbearable pain. Daddy would whip my bare skin as hard as he could and was delighted to hear the painful reaction of the girl being punished out of pure pleasure. The sharp scream after each impact of the cane on my bare skin assured him that the excruciating pain was training his pre-teen girl properly, according to all the pedagogical manuals of juvenile discipline. He took 30 seconds between each harsh cane stroke to let its disciplinary effects assimilate into my flesh torn by his pre-teen daughter. After the screams of pain stopped and his girl calmed down, he administered the next blow with even greater force. He continued like this for up to 15 blows, making me make inhuman sounds in my throat and writhe like a fish on dry land from the sting. My stepfather liked what he saw, his stepdaughter assimilated corporal discipline according to the highest standards of pain. After this torture, he took me by the ear and led me naked into the reflection room, he caught my wrists with a rope and tied them to my ankles, leaving me tied like that in the dark for three hours, on the cold basement floor. At ten o'clock he came and took me to the shower and then ordered me to go to bed. I could feel my rough, whipped ass burning and throbbing and it was hard to think about anything else. I wish my dad wouldn't punish me if I didn't make a mistake... Tomorrow was another day.
-Hi, Diary. Daddy just whipped me with a cane for breaking a plate and not cleaning up the mess. He took me to the pedagogical training room, tied me to the punishment horse with straps and whipped me with the juvenile reformation cane 25 times on my bare buttocks, after which came 10 blows with the wet rod taken out of the brine diagonally until my ass bled. The rod he whipped me with was now tinged with red, from my blood. As I lie in bed, I tremble in pain with bandages over my tortured buttocks. My body is in agony, I spasm, I sob continuously, even a slight movement causes waves of excruciating pain and stinging. I run my hand over my teenage buttocks, under the bandages, feeling the painful ridges and deep cuts in the skin left by my stepdad's juvenile reformation rod, each still inflamed, swollen and very throbbing, the blood stopped, the bandage absorbing some of it. I try to sleep. I was a rebellious teenager then and I will not break plates again. Perhaps my stepdad had sensed that, ever since I was on the verge of teenager, the cane of correction and the rod of instruction excited me in a strange way; hating the pain at the moment of the stinging whipping, but enjoying the warm glow that came later and then the itchy sensation between my legs that raised juicy streaks on my teenage girlish ass. I love you, dad, and your discipline.Thank you and I promise I will be back. Now, Mara wishes you good night.
4ヶ月前
