Kylie’s Punishment

BIG FUCKING DISCLAIMER: Some people thought my tone was a bit dickish in this disclaimer, so please bear in mind that that’s not my intention.

First: this story is YET AGAIN WORSE than (most of) its predecessors. As usual, expect scat, but this time expect EVEN MORE horrific violence.

Second, this is a work of FICTION, and I in no way condone ACTUALLY DOING any of these things! The people who made Die Hard aren’t bank robbers in real life, it’s JUST A STORY.

Third, and I really can’t emphasize this enough: all of those tags are there for a reason! It features TRULY HORRIFIC VIOLENCE. Please, PLEASE only read on if you’re convinced that only the most DEPRAVED and utterly BRUTAL SEXUAL VIOLENCE will satisfy you! I’m serious guys, this one’s really, really over-the-top.

…Still here? Okay, but don’t say ya weren’t warned!

PS: Save the “You’re a sick fuck!” comments for someone who cares! Once you click a story with these tags, you lose your right to judge people.



Kylie’s Punishment

Nathan stared in disbelief, unable to believe what he had heard from his daughter’s mouth.
“WHAT did you say?!” he asked in astonishment.

She said it again, and he realized he was turning red. He grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and dragged her out of the room as her two sisters, twins a year younger than Kylie, stared on; their own faces as crimson as his own, but from fear rather than anger.

He pulled her into his bedroom and slammed the door, ignoring the furtive whispers of her sisters from the living room.

“So you think you’re too old to get spanked for that, huh?”

Kylie crossed her arms petulantly, staring straight at him. She said it a third time:

“Fuck you!”

He grabbed her wrists with his left hand and held them tightly together, then spun her around. He brought his right hand back and smacked her on the ass. But her jeans made the effort less-than-worthwhile, and she made no reaction. He tried again, harder, but with no better result.

Somewhat hesitantly, he yanked at her jeans, which were tight enough that he couldn’t pull them down; he grew redder as he fumbled at them for several seconds before finally exposing enough of her smooth, pale ass for him to properly administer her punishment.

She struggled slightly, but he could hold each of her slender wrists between two fingers, so her tiny hands twisted pointlessly against his grip.

She wriggled her butt in a further attempt to escape, anticipating that the next hit would be more painful. Unable to explain his nervousness, he drew back again, and this time connected with a sharp crack. She whimpered, going partly limp, her weight almost pulling free of his grip. He spanked her ass again, trying to ignore the strange feeling building inside.

By the fifth stroke, she was sobbing, and her pants had fallen down to her ankles. “Now what did you say?” he asked, his skin covered in a peculiar pins-and-needles feeling.

“Fuck you!” she screamed, and he could hear her sisters on the other side of the door gasp.
He dragged her into the master bedroom where he hoped they wouldn’t be able to hear. Still holding her up by her wrists, he spanked her as hard as he could; her shriek was torn from her lungs forcibly. He spanked her again and again, her ass turning redder each time; she was too small to avoid hitting some of her left cheek as he spanked her right, and vice-versa. His blows were too fevered to make the distinction, at this point; he was hitting her between the two as often as he was hitting his target.

“Now what did you say, Kylie?” he asked, his breathing shallow, and somehow not merely from the physical exertion.

“…fuck you,” she whispered.

He could feel himself let go.