Daughter/Sister Part 1 - Sex Stories

Daughter/Sister Part 1

... can confirm that she had a heart of stone and never showed any mercy.

An unforeseen consequence of my thrashings at school involved my Mum. Before I joined Miss Marshall’s class, she had never faced the task of giving me a second spanking in the evening after school. But the jungle telegraph ensured that she and our neighbours got the message of my downfall at school well before I got home, leaving her no choice but to thrash me for supposedly bringing disgrace to the family. Worse still, the pious great and good could savour the fruits of their labours by listening to every smack and howl of my shame. In the following days, our neighbours always took great delight in thanking me for the free entertainment.

Miss Marshall thrashed me three times during my initial six weeks in her class, and Mum spanked me again in the evening after the first and second occasions. However, in the third instance, Mum's attitude changed dramatically when she saw the severe damage Miss Marshall’s heavy tawse had done to my tushie. She gasped and began to cry.

“Oh, my poor baby, Miss Marshall obviously has a total downer on you, just like a horrible teacher had on me. My tormentor took great pleasure in regularly flaying my bottom in front of the whole class. Sadly, Miss Marshall must be cut from the same cloth and is just as untouchable. So, like me, you will have to button your lip and take it on the bum for as long as you are in her class. You may not believe it now, but you will ...

... survive and be the better person for it. From now on, I will help you get through this. I will never again punish you after a belting at school, no matter how much the Puritan rabble howls.”

“I am angry that Miss Marshall can get away with this, but knowing I am not the only one to have suffered like this helps strengthen my resolve. Miss Marshall will not break me. I will survive.”

“That’s my girl. I am so sad you must deal with this, but I am proud of your determination not to give in. In the end, just like my tormentor, Miss Marshall will taste nothing but the bitterness of failure as she watches you blossom in ways she never attempted.”

At that very moment, I now understood Mum’s evident reticence to punish me. As a result of her own experiences, she did not want to inflict pain per se. Still, she needed to create enough familiar noise that our neighbours, and of course, the wider great and good, would know she was doing her duty. As this insight sunk in, I made an astounding decision.

“Mum, your life will be hell if you do not reinforce Miss Marshall’s punishments. I do not want you to have to deal with that. I can cope with your after-school thrashings, so stick with them. Together, we can put on an unforgettable show that leaves the listening audience no doubt about how much pain you are inflicting.”

“Oh my, you are willing to do that.”

“Yes. But promise me you will not go feral like you regularly do when you catch me acting up at home.”

“You get what ...