Table of Contents

My Spanking Diary

Arlene Gorley

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CHAPTER ONE

June 1, 1969:
Dear Diary — I guess that's as good a way as any to begin. Today is my seventeenth birthday, and Mom gave me this five-year diary as one of my presents. She told me she wanted me to write down not only all my thoughts and hopes and the things that happen to me, but also my demerits and my spankings.
I feel awfully ashamed, because here I am almost old enough to vote, and yet I still get spanked like a naughty child. But this year is going to be the worst, I can tell already in advance. Mom wouldn't have given me this special present, as she called it, if she hadn't meant to get more serious about paddling my bottom when I'm naughty.
I guess I'd better start from the beginning because this is going to be a sort of autobiography, in a way. First of all, I'm about medium height, with curly black hair I like to wear in a short bob. I've got big dark-blue eyes and a small mouth which Mom says shows that I'm awfully selfish — and I guess maybe I am at times. My skin is sort of warm olive, though I've got lots of freckles on my cheeks and nose, and my nose is small and straight.
There are times when I wish the rest of me — especially the part Mom seems to like to spank so much — was just as small, believe me, Dear Diary! I weigh about 110, and most of it seems to be in my thighs and bottom, though of course I have sort of big round breasts too. That's what bugs me, because I look so grownup and yet I'm still treated like a kid.
We live in Fresno, where I was born in a house on North Broadway. Dad (his name was David Gorley) came out here about nineteen years ago from Chicago, where he had been an advertising man, to do some promotion work for the raisin growers. I guess he liked it out here well enough to stay and to marry Mom, who was the daughter of a big hardware store owner. Mom was eighteen when she married, and Dad was twenty-six. I was born about eighteen months after they got married, and then two years later they had my sister Sandra. Sandra is fifteen, with fiery red hair in a thick poneytail, and she has lots more freckles than I and a much fairer skin. She also is much slimmer than I am, and an inch taller, but the funny thing is that her bottom is almost as big as mine, and she gets spanked on it too. She doesn't like it any more than I do, and sometimes I think she resents being punished that way even more than I do because she has ideas about being grownup already. But then, the saying is that redheads always have a temper, and I guess Sandra is no exception to that rule.
Anyway, Dad died about three years ago from a heart attack, but he left us pretty well off, including the house on North Broadway and some insurance and money in the bank. Only right now, Mom is worrying me a little by going around with a fellow that neither Sandra nor I very much like. His name is Elmer Douglas. He looks like a schoolteacher, and he never combs his hair, and Sandra and I both think he's an awful square.
Mr. Douglas is a vice-president in a savings and loan company down on Merced Street, and he's about forty-two. He always has some wisecrack to make about juvenile delinquency, especially when he's over at our house talking to Mom and we happen to be in the vicinity. I get the feeling that he has it in for us, and I also have an awful feeling that if he does marry Mom, our spankings are going to be a lot more frequent. I hope I'm wrong, but then you never know.

As far as spanking is concerned, Dad never did do much of it. I mean, if we were naughty when we were real little kids, he'd just tell us to quiet down and maybe give us a smack on the rear end with his hand and warn us that there was more where that came from if we didn't shape up. And we got along perfectly fine. But ever since he died, I guess maybe Mom figured that we were in our teens and at the difficult stage, as she puts it, and that we needed more regular discipline. That's the only way I have of explaining all the spankings I've had the last couple of years. Sandra has got almost as many, but the trouble is that because I'm two years older, Mom says I ought to teach my younger sister and set a good example for her. So whenever the two of us get into trouble, it's usually yours truly who winds up on the receiving end.
Mom has been seeing this Elmer Douglas for about two months now, and I'm convinced that all this demerit business was his idea. I mean, after Dad died, sure, we got spanked, Sandra and I, but nothing like the way it's been the last couple of months.
I'll give you an example. About a year ago, just a week after my sixteenth birthday, I was late from school because Tommy Turnbull was carrying my books and sort of making up to me. And wouldn't you know it, but snoopy old Mrs. Spears who lives down the street a block or two, happened to see us standing on the corner and talking, so what does she do but call Mom that I'm practically smooching with him in front of God and everybody.
So when I got home, Mom took me by the earlobe and marched me into her bedroom, scolding me all the time and saying that I was old enough to know not to behave improperly — she always uses a big vocabulary when she's mad at me — and that I was going to get a good sound spanking. Well, she sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled me over her lap so that I stretched out along the bed, and then she pulled up my skirt and my petticoat and let me have about twenty good spanks with the flat of her hand over my panties. Of course it hurt, but then it was all over, and then she started giving me a sermon on how I had to be especially good because I didn't have a father and because I had to set a good example for my sister too.
That was one thing. But starting about six weeks ago, Mom served notice on us that she didn't like our behavior one little bit and that she was going to take sterner measures, as she put it. So that time, when I went out to a movie on Saturday afternoon with Betsy Rourke, my best girlfriend, and I didn't tell Mom where I was going, when I got back, she marched me off to her bedroom again and this time she made me lift up my own petticoat and skirt and then come over to her as she sat down in a straight-backed chair. She pulled my little panties down to my knees, and gave me a long lecture and then she told me to get over her lap in a hurry. This time, she reached for the hairbrush, and I started begging off right away. It didn't do any good at all. She gave me thirty spanks, fifteen to each cheek, and I was bawling like a baby and kicking my legs like mad long before she finished.
That was the first time I ever got it on the bare, and I could just as well have skipped it for the rest of my life, but I can see right now it was only the start of what is going to be a very unhappy adolescence for me, especially if Mom goes on with her idea of making Mr. Douglas our stepfather.

June 5, 1969:
Last night Mom told Sandra and me to come into the living room right after we had finished doing the supper dishes. We sat on the couch side by side, and she sat in the armchair across the way and gave us the new setup. Sandra and I looked at each other and we gulped and we both were awfully unhappy. This was Mom's demerit system we were being told about, and already my poor bottom started squirming in advance. She said that she had decided that even though we were fairly grownup, we seemed to need discipline more than ever, and that the only way to do it was to keep us on a regular daily basis of merits and demerits. Every Saturday would be settling accounts day, she told us. She was giving Sandra a little memo book in which Sandra would have to write down whenever she got a demerit. Mine was my diary, of course. Then on Saturday noon, we would hand our books to her and she would check them to see what we had coming that night.
She must have sat up all night dreaming up the list, because we both had to write down on a sheet of paper what all the demerits were and how many there were for what we did or didn't do. If our room was untidy, we had to write down two demerits. If we sassed her or were impertinent, that was five demerits. If we broke the curfew, like coming back too late from a show or school or something like that without reasonable explanation, that was four demerits. If she told us to run an errand or wash the dishes or do something around the house and we forgot or something, that was one demerit. If we used naughty language, that was two demerits. And right then and there, while we were writing all this down, she gave my sister two demerits for saying, just loud enough for her to hear, “Oh, shit anyhos!” I was about to giggle, but the look in Mom's eyes sort of told me that if I did, I might find myself writing down some demerits after my name.
But the worst thing it was that Mom had figured out a whole system of so many spanks for so many demerits, and even in that system there were all sorts of very painful situations. I mean, a certain number of demerits meant a hand spanking over the panties, and more demerits meant a hand spanking on the bare. But after that, everything was on the bare, and it was the hairbrush and even the strap and the ruler. Mom had never used a ruler or a strap on us before, so I suspected that those ideas had come from Mr. Douglas, and I wasn't about to thank him for his suggestions, you can depend on that!
After Mom had got through reading off the list and we had written it down just like kids in a classroom getting instructions from the teacher, she looked at us and said, “Now I mean business, you two. And there won't be any begging off. That's why I'm putting in this demerit system. It will be down in black and white, and once you girls have been naughty and got your demerits, then you know exactly what you can look forward to. Maybe this way I can get some discipline going in this house.”
“But, Mom,” Sandra protested, with a sulky pout on her pretty face, “it's not fair. All of a sudden, you're going to spank us harder than you ever did, and we're nearly both of us too old for that anyway.”
“So, young lady, you think you're too old for spanking, do you?” Mom said huffily. “Would you like to have the hairbrush right now, maybe?”
“Oh gosh no!” my kid sister hurried to waive the privilege of being first under the new program. “But I still think it's awful. And I think something else, too, if you want to know something, Mom.”
“Go ahead, young lady, speak your mind.” Mom had a sort of dangerous glint in her gray-green eyes. Sandra had inherited the same color of eyes from Mom, only hers seemed to be bigger. “I'm sure I don't want either of you two girls to think I'm playing favorites or being unfair.”
“But you are!” Sandra broke out. “Until that nasty old Mr. Douglas came along, you spanked us a couple of times and it wasn't so bad. But now it's something like torture. Straps and rulers and hairbrushes — gee, Mom, this is the twentieth century, not back in the days when you whipped kids even in school.”
“You seem to be quite well informed, young lady,” Mom said in a sort of deceptively gentle tone of voice, sort of like the prelude to a storm, because I could see that her lips were tightening. “One of these days, you're going to turn out to be a jailhouse lawyer. And right now, you can just write down in your little book, Sandra, that you've got two demerits coming.”
“For what?” my red-haired sister wanted to know, and she was really all upset.

“For making that remark about Mr. Douglas, that's what for,” Mom said.
“That's not fair!” Sandra jumped up from the couch and stood there facing Mom, and her face was red and there were tears in her eyes. “I hate him! I think it's mean and cruel to tell us all about these demerits and things, when you never had to do it before. And it's all because he came along. Maybe he cast a spell over you or something.”
“And that, young lady, will be quite enough of that!” Mom was riled for fair now. She got up from her armchair and stared right back at Sandra. “You can put yourself down for two more. Just one more demerit, and you've got a spanking coming Saturday, young lady, don't forget it.”
“Doggone it anyhow.” My kid sister didn't know when she was well off. “I'll tell Mr. Douglas to his face what I think of him, because I don't like him and I won't ever like him.”
“And that makes six. Would you like to try for eight?” Mom sarcastically asked.
I sent a frantic look at Sandra telling her to shut up. She had just got herself six demerits which according to the new schedule meant a sound spanking on the bare butt by hand. Five demerits was a minimum, and that meant a spanking over the panties.
But I guess redheads always have to have the last word, because Sandra wasn't taking this quietly at all. “I don't care, I'm going to run away from home, you wait and see!” she stormed. “And if you marry that awful man, I'll really run away and fast.”
“Are you quite finished? I'm giving you eight demerits here and now, and you know what that means,” Mom said and her lips were very thin by this time.
Sandra suddenly started to cry, put her hands to her face, and ran out of the room upstairs to her own room. I felt sorry for her, but I was really scared. It was a different Mom I was seeing now. She had never before been so harsh and cruel about spankings. I mean, when you had one coming you knew it, and you took it and that was that. But all this talk in advance about demerits and this and that punishment depending on how many you got — that was a new side of Mom I was really scared about.
And the eight demerits meant first a spanking over the panties with the hand, and then at least twenty spanks with the hairbrush on the bare heinie. And sure enough, on Saturday, when both of us had to turn in our record books to Mom, Sandra had her eight and I had had one because I had forgotten to pick up a loaf of bread the day before along with some other things Mom had wanted from the grocery store.
First of all, I had to stand there and watch while poor Sandra got her spanking. It took place in Mom's room, and Sandra had to pull up her petticoat and skirt and then go over Mom's lap for the handspanking a good forty swats which left her crying and kicking like anything. Then she got a two-minute rest, and then had to slip her panties down, take them completely off, and lie down on the bed with the pillow under her tummy while Mom stood at the edge and, her left palm pressed down on Sandra's back, gave her twenty good hard spanks with the flat back of the hairbrush. I had to come up and help hold Sandra's hands after about the first seven swats, because she started kicking and putting her hands back to cover up her red bottom. And how she cried!
But that was just the beginning, Dear Diary.

CHAPTER TWO

July 3, 1969:
This has been just about the worst month of my life, Dear Diary. I guess it's official now, Mom is going to marry that awful Mr. Douglas. She made the announcement last Sunday at dinner, and about a hour later Mr. Douglas himself came over. It was all Sandra and I could do to be civil to him, because he had a couple of nasty little wisecracks to hit us with just about as soon as he started getting inside the house. The first thing he did right off was to ask Mom if we had been good girls the past few weeks, and she had to go and tell him that the new demerit system was working just fine and that each of us had had a spanking.
I wanted to sink through the floor and I was blushing like the red, red, rose, you can bet on that. Yes, I got mine last Saturday, just the day before Mom made her announcement about our new stepfather.
I had got myself all of seven demerits, and five of them came from sassing back. The other two was because my room was untidy, so that made seven. So on Saturday I had to bring in this diary, and show the bottom of the page where I kept my demerits. I will say that Mom didn't try to read my personal thoughts, or I could have gotten more demerits for the things I had said about Mr. Douglas. I guess she knew how I felt, though. So anyway, she asked me if I had anything to say, I just shook my head and asked her please to get it over with. Seven demerits got me a handspanking over my panties and then ten smacks on my bare seat with the hairbrush. It was bad enough, but Mom made it worse, and once again I saw the fine Italian hand of Mr. Douglas. After I had pulled up my skirt and slip and gone over her lap while she sat in the straight-backed chair, she spanked my bottom good and hard till I was sniffling and squirming, and there were tears running down my face. But then I had to get up, go over to the dresser, bring her back the hairbrush, and then of all things she had me drape myself over the edge of the bed after I first had pulled my panties down to my knees, and stretched my arms out as far as I could. My toes were shoved down on the floor and all my muscles were tense, and I could feel how warm my poor bottom was from the spanking. She made me count out the spanks with the hairbrush. They hurt like the dickens, and it was all I could do to keep from plunging my hands back to cover up my bottom after about five of them. She told us at the very start of this so-called program that anytime we tried to protect ourselves from the spanking we had been sentenced to, we would get extras. I didn't want any, thank you. And then after the ten had been doled out, and I was lying there crying and crossing and uncrossing my ankles, Mom said to me, “I'm not satisfied with you yet, young lady, and you are going to have to shape up pretty well in the next few months. It's quite possible that I won't be the only one to administer the spankings if certain things happen.”
Well, I could guess what she meant by that, but the next day she made it official by announcing her engagement to Mr. Douglas. And that could only mean one thing: I would get my spankings thereafter from Mr. Douglas himself.
It wasn't so much that I didn't like the idea of Mom's getting married again. Far from it. She was always a good-looking woman, and she certainly didn't look her thirty-seven years at all. But I certainly would have picked somebody else instead of that nasty man who had got her mind all filled with the notion that Sandra and I had to be spanked like kids whenever we did anything wrong. And the thought came to me that maybe he got his kicks that way. That was just awful!
So that night, when I was in my pajamas and ready for bed, I sneaked down to Sandra's room down the hall, and I had a little council of war with her. She agreed with me that this was all Mr. Douglas' fault, and of course we both said that we would rather run away from home or die or something than ever let him spank us. That was all very brave talk, but it didn't work out that way, alas.
Because yesterday was Saturday, and poor Sandra was due for a spanking. She had got herself all of nine demerits during the week, with the usual five for sassing back two for naughty language, as Mom called it, and two for having her room untidy. Nine demerits meant a spanking over her panties, and then thirty on the bare with the hairbrush. And then yesterday afternoon about two o'clock, Mr. Douglas came over because he was going to take Mom out to dinner and a show. We girls were to go along, but we certainly didn't feel like doing it. Especially after what happened.
Mom met him at the door and gave him a big hug and a kiss right in front of us, and we exchanged a very gloomy look. We certainly were outvoted, and we didn't even have an uncle or an aunt who could stand up for us now. Mom had a sister, all right, but she lived in Boston. Besides, they had had some misunderstanding about ten years, they almost never exchanged letters.

Anyway, what did Mom go and do but pipe right up and say that before we could go out to dinner and the show, there was a little disciplinary matter that had to be attended to. Sandra started getting red as a beet and then she finally broke out with, “Oh, no, Mom, that's not fair! Can't you please put it off until tomorrow, anyway if, if you have to?”
Mom turned around to look at her and didn't say a word for a minute. Then she said to Mr. Douglas, “This naughty girl has had nine demerits, and I think she ought to be spanked right now.”
“I agree with you, my dear,” he said as he took off his glasses and cleaned them with his handkerchief and then put them back on and stared at poor Sandra. “Do you wish me to help you, Myrna?” That was my mother's name of course. In fact, the reason I keep calling myself Arlene Gorley is that even though Mom is married to Mr. Douglas, I just don't want to use his name and feel I belong to him in any way. I feel already like a girlslave with all these spankings and things that are happening, so I want to keep Dad's name as long as I can.
“I agree with you, Elmer,” Mom said. “Sandra march yourself right up to my bedroom. Arlene, you might as well come along and watch, it will be a good lesson for you. Don't forget, now that you are seventeen, I expect more of you, and so does Mr. Douglas.”
“Oh no! I won't I won't! He's not going to watch me get spanked, Mom!” Sandra started to cry, and then she stamped her foot.
Mr. Douglas looked at Mom again and shook his head. “Decidedly, Myrna, your younger daughter has some very bad traits. I think it is a good thing you and I had that talk some weeks ago and decided to put the girls under stricter surveillance.”
Then he turned to Sandra and said in a very sharp voice, “Now then, my girl, either you are going to submit quietly and take your punishment which you deserve, or I myself will take over, and I can promise you a much more severe chastisement. You can have your choice.”
Sandra turned to me and there were tears running down her cheeks and she twisted her hands and groaned, “Oh, Arlene, I don't want him to watch me getting punished, I don't, I don't!”
“You should have thought of that before you got all those demerits, my girl,” he said in the most patronizing way. I felt like taking off his glasses and breaking them, but of course that would have cost me the worst licking of my life.
“I'm going to run away, you'll see,” Sandra said.
With that, he walked over to her, took her by the elbow and said, “Now you just come along upstairs my girl, and don't make it any worse than you already have, or you're going to be very sorry. Come along Myrna, and you too, Arlene.”
I watched him make her go up the stairs, and I felt terribly sorry for her. But some of that was for myself too, because I had an awful feeling that before I filled up all the pages in this diary, I was going to have a few painful scenes all my own — and oh how right I was!
So we all went into Mom's bedroom. Sandra was crying, and then she began to beg Mom to spank her in private and not let him watch. Of course Mom wouldn't, and she warned Sandra any more of this nonsense would mean extra spanks. She sat down on the straight-backed chair, and Mr. Douglas sat down on the edge of the bed and watched, while I stood at the head of the bed feeling utterly miserable.
Sandra was wearing white playshorts and a pullover polo shirt, and sandals. She looked awfully sexy, because the shorts shaped out the saucy oval cheeks of her bottom, and her creamyskinned legs sleek and bare. Mr. Douglas sat and watched with a sort of scowl on his face, and he had his legs crossed and both hands were grasping his right knee. First Mom scolded Sandra and then told her what she was to get because of all her demerits, and then ordered her to get over her lap. My kid sister slowly draped herself over Mom's lap, and hid her face in her hands and clenched her legs together as tightly as she could. Mom tucked her in with her left arm, ran her right hand over Sandra's bottom, and then started the spanking with a good hard slap against the very center of her right heinie cheek. I heard Sandra gasp and saw her hips wriggle a little, and then the second spank came down on the other cheek, and Sandra uncrossed her legs and crossed them the other way, and let out an even louder gasp.
Mr. Douglas leaned forward, and I could see that he was getting a big bang out of watching poor Sandra get it. I guess maybe the shame of having him there was what made Sandra less stoic than she usually is when she gets a spanking. She started to blubber after about fifteen swats, and by the time Mom had given her forty, twenty to each cheek with the hand, she was begging off and promising to be an awfully good girl if Mom would only stop and let her off anymore.
Mom let her lie and cry it out over her lap for about two minutes, and then she ordered, “Now you just get up and go bring me the hairbrush, young lady.”
“Please, M — M — Mom, not on the b — b — bare before h — him, please, you can give me double, but please not on the b — bare!” my kid sister sobbed.
Mom looked over at Mr. Douglas, but he shook his head. “No, Myrna,” he said coldly. “This naughty girl has to learn that discipline is meant to be strict so she won't think it a laughing matter. Now you do what your mother tells you to, my girl, unless you want me to take over!”
“Oh no, oh no, I'd just die of shame!” Sandra wailed as she got up from Mom's lap and hurried over to the dresser, and then brought back the hairbrush and stood there crying.
“Now you can just take your panties completely off, young lady, and get back over my lap,” Mom said.
“Pl—please, oh don't make me do it Mom, not in front of him!” she sobbed.
“Sandra! Do you hear me?” Mom said in an angry voice.
There wasn't any help for it, so my poor kid sister began to obey. She turned herself so that Mr. Douglas wouldn't see her pussy, as she started taking off her white shorts. She pulled them down to her knees, and then let them fall to the floor, stepped out of them, and promptly flung herself right down over Mom's lap as if she was eager to get it over with. Just the same, I could see the dark red thatch of pussyhair at the tops of her long creamy thighs. But my goodness, how red her poor bottom already was! And she still had thirty spanks from the hairbrush to get before the punishment was over and all the demerits wiped out.
Sandra grabbed the bottom rung of the chair to hold on tight and she thrust her sandalled feet down hard on the other side, so that all her muscles stood out. Her big red ovalcheeked bottom stood out there in relief against the white paleness of her thighs and back. I took a quick glance at Mr. Douglas, and he was cleaning his glasses again and sitting even more on the edge of his chair than before. He liked it, he actually enjoyed watching poor Sandra have her bare bottom tanned. I made a vow that he wasn't ever going to get to see me that way when I got punished, but I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that it wasn't going to work out that way.
Mom got a good tight grip of her left arm around Sandra's waist, then lifted up the hairbrush and glanced over at Mr. Douglas. He nodded. He was just the most heartless man I had ever known!
Whack! Down it came, with a noisy crack as it flattened against the base of my kid sister's right heinie cheek. Sandra let out a squeal and kicked up one bare leg, and then turned her face back and blubbered, “Oh don't, not so hard, oh please, I can't stand so many, Mom!”
“You are supposed to count, young lady. Now you had better do it, because it won't be over until you count out the thirty you have coming,” Mom told her. And hardly had she finished saying that, when Smackk, the brush came down even harder, on the top of Sandra's left hip.
“Owww! boohoo, oh please, not so hard, two!” Sandra yelled.
“No, young lady, that was only one because you didn't count the first one. Now you better get with it, or you will be over my lap quite some time,” was Mom's answer.
“One, then, but oh please, don't spank so hard, please don't!” Sandra groaned.
But only the hairbrush answered her. A good hard spank right down on the crease between the cheeks, pinching them together, and Sandra let go of the bottom rung of the chair and rushed her hands back to rub her bottom and to try to cover up as she yelled out, “Twoooooo!! Oh it hurts, it hurts so, oh please, I'll be good, please not so many!”

“Take your hands away at once, young lady,” Mom ordered. “Just for that, we're going to start all over again now.”
Then she brought the hairbrush down again on the outer edge of my sister's right bottomcheek. Sandra yelled out: “One! Oh it's awful, it hurts so! Please, not so hard!”
She kept up the count through about six, and then she couldn't stand it anymore and rushed her hands back to cover up again. Mr. Douglas got up and said in a dry voice, “It is very evident, Myrna, that this naughty girl isn't used to real discipline. But from now on things are going to be very different. Arlene, you go kneel down and hold your sister's hands so she won't cover up anymore. And you, Sandra, are going to start all over again with the hairbrush. The next spank will be the first, do you understand?”
“I hate you, I hate you, I wish I were dead, I want to run away, you're awful and mean and cruel!” my kid sister wailed as I hurried over there and knelt down and took hold of her wrists.
“She really ought to have an extra for being so rude, Elmer dear,” was Mom's heartless comment.
“I'm glad you're beginning to appreciate the necessity for stern measures, Myrna dear,” was his answer. He had lit a cigarette and was watching from his post on the edge of the bed. His legs were crossed, but his eyes were very bright behind the glasses. Yes, there was no doubt about it, he was getting a real kick out of watching poor Sandra's bare heinie get spanked. And how red it was already! And to think the poor kid had to get thirty more of those awful whacks from the hairbrush!
“Are you ready for your spanking now you naughty girl?” Mom asked, as she gave Sandra's bare heinie a little pat with the brush.
“Yes, yes, for gosh sakes, Mom, please get it over with fast, I can't stand it, it burns, it hurts!” poor Sandra sobbed.
And then the hairbrush started to come down again in crisp rhythm. First the right cheek, then the left, and each time it fell, Sandra would give a squeal and kick one or both legs up in the air, wriggle all she could to get off Mom's lap, and jerk at her wrists which I kept hold of. The pain was so much that she forgot to count about five or six of them, and all of them were extras. When it was all over and she had yelled out: “Thirty, oh it's over, oh I'm dying, oh you hurt me awfully bad, Mom, it's awful!”, her bottom looked like a blazing tomato against the whiteness of her back and legs. And her hips were moving every which way and in all her kicking I knew she had shown Mr. Douglas her pussy.
I could tell from the frantic way she kept jerking at my wrists that she was really suffering. When I finally let go and stood up, Mr. Douglas gave me a sort of sneering little smile, as much as to say that if I didn't behave myself, he would be watching my big bottom get the hairbrush too.

CHAPTER THREE

Sandra had to lie down on her tummy in her room for a couple of hours before it was time to go to dinner and the show, and she certainly didn't feel much like going. We went to a nice restaurant, the Hacienda, on the highway. Mr. Douglas had a new Thunderbird, and he drove us there. Sandra kept squirming on the seat as she did on the chair at the restaurant till Mom whispered to her to behave or she would get another dose when she got back home. My sister's eyes were swollen from crying, and she looked very unhappy. I certainly couldn't blame her for that. I felt the same way myself.
Somehow we got through the dinner and the show, and then we got back home about midnight. Mr. Douglas then kissed Mom goodnight and said that he would see her early next week to set the plans for the wedding. My heart just about sank to my boots when I heard that. It meant that from now on we would have two against us instead of just one.
As soon as I had heard Mom go into her bedroom, I waited a few minutes and then I went down the hall to Sandra's room.
I gave a light knock on the door, then went in and closed the door. Sandra was in the bathroom and she was bare-naked. She was half-turned and looking at herself in the cabinet mirror. Her heinie was still awfully red and it looked terribly sore. She had a jar of cold cream out on the wash basin, and I said, “Let me do it for you, honey. You stretch out on the bed and I'll rub it in. Oh gosh, it looks just awful. It must have hurt something terrible.”
“You know it did,” she accused. Then she put one hand behind her and rubbed and made a face. “I thought I was going to die with all those extras. And the worst of it was with that nasty, horrible Mr. Douglas watching and seeing me all bare. I bet he saw even my pussy!”
Up until then, I had never dreamed that Sandra used words like that. I knew them from my girlfriend Betsy Rourke, but Sandra hadn't really been around much with boys at school and I didn't know where she had picked that word up.
“You shouldn't use a word like that, or you'll get demerits,” I said.
“Oh sure,” she started sniffling again. “I suppose you're going to snitch on me.”
“You know better than that, Sandy. Of course I wouldn't do that. I'm on your side, remember? Now you just stretch out on the bed and let me rub some of that cold cream in.”
So she did, and I started working it in gently. She began to sigh and squirm a little, and after I had rubbed it all in, she sighed, “Oh gosh, that feels so good! I thought I was on fire, and I could hardly sit down all through the dinner and the show. Isn't there any way we can stop Mom from marrying that horrible man?”
“I'm afraid not, Sandy honey.”
“I was afraid of that,” Sandra groaned. “Go on rubbing, it feels so nice. Gosh, I wish I had a boyfriend right about now to make me feel better after this awful spanking.”
“Sandy! How can you think of things like that! If she does marry him, they are both going to watch us like hawks. They don't even want me to have a boyfriend and I'm two years older than you are, so you might just as well forget about it,” I told her.
And then she really threw me for a loop when she turned her face back with a saucy look through her tears and whispered, “You're a big stupe even if you are seventeen, Arlene. We don't have to have a boyfriend to have fun. My bottom is so hot, I'm hot in my pussy too. Why don't you do something about it, Arlene honey?”
And with this, she rolled over onto her bottom, and showed me everything she had. Those nice perky pearshaped titties of hers with soft narrow dark-coral aurolae and dainty little lovebuds, and her wide shallow bellybutton, and the thick red curls of her pussy.
I was just in my pajamas and slippers, and I blushed because she was looking at me. Then she whispered, “Take off your jammies, and love me up good, Arlene. Please, I want you to.”
“What are you talking about!” I gasped. “You're my sister.”
“I know. That's what makes it so nice. Come on, take your jammies off. I'll show you,” she whispered.
I don't know what made me do it, Dear Diary, but in a minute I was naked and I was beside her on the bed. She rolled over onto her side, and she snuggled up against me. She put her arm around my shoulder and then she started to kiss me. “Feel me up and rub your pussy against mine, that'll make the pain in my bummy go away, it will,” she told me.
I felt sorry for her. And I guess that's why I let her show me how girls made out without boys. Before I knew it, we were kissing like anything, and I was stroking her heinie, and fondling one of her titties, and then we were rubbing pussies until suddenly I felt myself just about burst and almost faint.
And that's how both of us discovered one way of getting some pleasure out of the awful spankings Mr. Douglas was having Mom give us.

July 27, 1969:
Well, it happened, just as Sandy and I were scared it would. There wasn't any good trying to talk Mom out of thinking it over before she gave us a new father neither of us wanted. Both of us had already paid for “sassing” when it came to Elmer Douglas, and it was a losing fight, so we didn't try it again. Sure enough, she and Mr. Douglas were married on July 14th, and went to San Francisco for their honeymoon in the St. Francis Hotel for ten days. We were left behind, and Mom and our new stepfather both warned us to take good care of the house and not to let them hear any stories from the neighbors like that old Mrs. Spears, about any cutting up or having boys over or anything like that — or else!
Well, we didn't, needless to say. Even if we had wanted to, and I'll tell you here and now. Dear Diary, that I wouldn't have minded having Tommy Turnbull over to smooch around with. But just knowing that Mrs. Spears was across the way and was always peering out of her window over at our house decided me not to run the risk of a few minutes of fun in exchange for an awfully burning and sore behind. Because, just before Mom and Mr. Douglas left on their trip. Mom said to us. “Now you girls remember that from now on Mr. Douglas is your new father, and when it is necessary for you two to be spanked, he is going to take over some of the disciplinary duty. And I think you will find, if you are unfortunate enough to run afoul of our orders about your conduct, that he spanks a lot harder than I do.” And then, which made me just about feel sick, she turned to him with a sickly-sweet smile, hugged him and cooed, “Wouldn't you say that was true, Elmer darling?”
Yes, I can see it all now. That man had actually hypnotized Mom to the point that anything he said to her was gospel. And that meant that we were in for it and that nobody was going to save us if both Mom and he decided to punish us.
It was a hot summer in Fresno as it always is. Mostly, we sunbathed a little in the yard, put on lots of sun lotion, caught up on our reading of the movie magazines and books and stuff, and went out to dinner a couple of times. Mom had given us some money and told us we could treat ourselves so long as we behaved, so Sandra and I had some really lovely meals. I was just dying to order some wine, but I didn't dare. I could imagine how many demerits that would get me if Mom ever heard of it!
They came back about five in the evening, and Mom looked very happy. She was sort of dewy-eyed, and she was clinging to Mr. Douglas' arm and looking up at him as if he were some kind of super mortal. Sandy was in her playshorts and her pullover polo shirt, which was blue with the white letters spelling out the name of her high school, Clarindo. I had just finished my senior year there this June, and I wanted to talk to Mom when I got a chance about whether she expected me to go on to college or to go out and try to find a job and be useful. The way I felt now, I wanted to get away from home as much as I could. Maybe going to a school in Los Angeles or even Frisco would solve things for me in not having to be around Mr. Douglas. But that would leave poor Sandy all by herself and at his mercy.
Sandy and I helped bring their baggage in from the cab, and took it to Mom's room. Our house is a two-story affair, so that Sandy and I have our rooms upstairs and Mom and Mr. Douglas have theirs downstairs. That was fine with me, because I could keep away from him a little more that way. Still it was going to be a long summer until September and going back to school or else going to work, whichever I found out was going to happen.

Well, wouldn't you know it, but Sandy got into trouble right away. Mr. Douglas told her to be careful of the one suitcase she was lugging, because it was a new blue one, and she looked back to say something to Mom, and before she knew it, she had scuffed the shiny new surface against the wall.
“I told you to be careful!” Mr. Douglas snapped, in a very nasty tone of voice.
“I couldn't help it, it was an accident. Besides, it's heavy. If you don't like my being a porter, get somebody else,” she had to go and open her yap. Even I gasped when I heard her say that.
“Give it here to me,” he said and grabbed it from her. Then he walked into Mom's room, set it down, and came outside and glared at Sandy. “I see you're just itching for another spanking, young lady. All right, I'm going to accommodate you.”
“Oh no, Elmer,” Mom said, “not the very first day back, please, dear.”
He turned around and gave her an angry look. “Now you just keep out of this, Myrna, do you understand me? We talked about this in San Francisco, and we agreed that I would handle matters like this. It's quite obvious to me that Sandra is purposely going out of her way to be hostile towards me. Very well. I think I know how to deal with that.”
Then he walked up to Sandy and took her by the wrist and said, “You just come along with me to my room, young lady. We're going to have this out once and for all.”
I stood there not knowing what to do. He looked at me and said, “Go in and help your mother, Arlene. This is between Sandra and myself.”
“Mom! Don't let him spank me, please don't! I didn't do anything, I didn't rub his darned old suitcase against the wall on purpose!” Sandra wailed. There were big tears in her grey-green eyes and her lips were trembling. She really looked scared. But Mom didn't intervene.
“Do as your father tells you to, Sandra,” was all she said, and then she beckoned to me. “Come along and help me unpack, Arlene dear.”
I went in reluctantly, and the door was left opened. I could hear Mr. Douglas taking Sandra into the next room, and then I heard her squeal, “Oh please no, oh please don't take them down, please, Mr. Douglas! I'm sorry, I'll be good, I didn't mean it, but please leave my shorts on, please!”
There was a sound of a struggle, and then I heard her burst into tears and I heard him say, “Now I understand. The indecency of this, young lady! You haven't got any panties on under your shorts. I suppose this is the way you went around all the time we were gone. Making a spectacle of yourself for the neighbors and all the boys on the street, I've no doubt!”
“No, that's not so, it was just too hot today, and I didn't go anywhere — oh please don't — oh Mr. Douglas, I hate you — I wish I were dead — owwww! that hurts, please, oh please not so hard!”
I heard her cry out.
I heard also the sound of smacking, and it sounded as if he were using his hand to start with. Then her squeals got louder and shriller, and all of a sudden she yelled out, “Oh don't use your belt, oh don't hurt me like that, please — aiiiii! ohhahhrrr! Please, you're killing me — oh I can't stand it, please don't spank me like that, oh please put that awful belt down!”
I looked at Mom and then I started to sniffle. I ran out of the room and to the room next door. He had left the door open, too, so I could see everything. He was standing and with his left foot posed on a foot stool. He had bent Sandra over his left knee, and her playshorts were twisted around her ankles, and her creamy bottom was bare, and in his right hand there was a black leather belt which he had doubled and he was swinging it against her seat with a very vigorous flourish of his arm. Everytime it landed, she would lift up her head and yell out, and try to put her hands back of her to protect her bottom. I saw him hit her hands and then he told her, “Take your hands away and put them on your knees and don't you dare do that again, or I'll give you double!”
“Oh please, please let me off, I didn't do it on purpose, honest I didn't, Mr. Douglas!” my sister was sobbing.
I'm not punishing you for that, young lady, I'm punishing you for your impertinence and for your deliberate attempt to show me how much you hate me in front of your mother. You're going to get over that, and so is your sister. I don't care how many sessions it takes, I'm going to whip some common sense into you.” And with that, he started using the belt again. Sandra was twisting and squirming herself all over, and once again her hands rushed behind her to cover up. He told her to take them away, and when she didn't he pulled her over to a low armchair, seated himself, flung her down over his lap, clamped his right leg over her calves, and then he really gave it to her.
She was yelling at the top of her voice and twisting and trying to get her hands behind her to cover up, but he grabbed both her wrists with his left hand and held on tight. Then he took a deep breath, got a tighter hold on the doubled belt, and began to give it to her again even harder than before. This time he was hitting her on the legs, and there were angry bright red marks all over her thighs all the way down to the hollows of her knees. She was screaming now, and calling for Mom to save her.
I couldn't stand it anymore. I looked in and I said, “You're an awful, cruel, hateful man, and you're just whipping her because you like to be cruel, Mr. Douglas! I bet you like to whip people, even if they're grownup!”
He turned around and he gave me such a hateful look that if looks could kill, I probably would have dropped dead on the spot. Then he lowered the belt and said in a nasty-nice voice, “Well, I think your sister has had enough for this time. And since you've been imprudent enough to eavesdrop, I may as well tell you that you will get the same thing if you don't change your attitude towards me, Arlene.”
Then he let go of my weeping sister, and he said to me, “Take her to her room, and lock the door. Then you go out and get us some supper over at the restaurant. Chicken or turkey will be fine. Have them put it on my account.”
And that was my stepfather's homecoming.

CHAPTER FOUR

I hurried to the restaurant down the street at the comer, and in about twenty minutes came back with takeout food for all of us. We ate in the kitchen, but of course poor Sandy wasn't with us. She was still up in her room and her door was locked. I took her portion up on a tray and I knocked and I told her it was I, and finally she let me in. Her face was awfully red and wet with tears, and all she had on was her polo shirt and her sandals. She kept rubbing her hind end with both hands, and she didn't seem to care that I could see dark red curls of her sweet pussy.

“I'm going to run away, you wait and see, Arlene!” she defiantly announced. That awful man whipped me for the last time. And he just loved it. You know what?”
I shook my head. I laid the tray down on a footstool near the bed, and I waited to listen to what she had to say.
“He had a hard-on, did you know that, Arlene?” she said as she pulled two pillows off the top of the bed and piled them near the edge and then sat down on them, very carefully and making faces as she did so. I lifted the tray and put it down beside her, and I had got her some roast beef with dumplings and string beans and a piece of pie and a big glass of milk.
“What are you saying!” I gasped. “And where did you ever learn such awful language?”
“You better go eat your own food before it gets cold, Arlene. Then tonight, when they've gone to sleep, you come back and I'll tell you all about it,” she said to me.
Just about then, I heard Mom calling from downstairs, so I told her I would be back, and then closed the door and went on down to see what Mom wanted. She just wanted to find out how Sandy was, and I told her, and then I went back to eating my own supper.
Mr. Douglas — I just couldn't bring myself to call him “Father” or “Daddy” — gave me a couple of stern looks. Finally, he said, “I suppose your sister is sulking up there, and I also suppose she's telling you what a wicked, cruel tyrant I am. Am I right, Arlene?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. I didn't look up, I just went on eating. The next thing I knew, his hand shot out and slapped my cheek: “When I talk to you, look me in the face, young lady!” he ordered. “Now, what did she say?”
“She — she said she was going to run away, that she couldn't stand it any longer. But she's just upset, and you did whip her awfully bad,” I said.
“That's not true. She was carrying on just to get herself let off, that's all. Oh yes, I gave her a good licking, but if you think that's a really hard one, Arlene, just you get into mischief like that. You'll soon find out what a really hard licking is.”
“No thank you, Mr. Douglas,” I said. I sort of mumbled it, but he heard it anyway.
“Is that more of your impertinence? Are you looking for what Sandra got?”
“Oh no!” I hurried to tell him. “I'm not going to give you another chance to spank me, I'm too big for that. But I still think it's wrong to treat girls our age that way. Can't you talk to us and tell us what to do or scold us if we make mistakes? Do you always have to whip us, and always on the bare skin?”
“Now that will be quite enough of that, young lady!” he thundered. “I run an office pretty capably, and nobody questions my decisions. Here in this house, I happen to be your new father, and I'm going to make the decisions here just as I do at the office. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right then. Let's have no more discussion on the subject. Myrna, I think there's still some beer left in the refrigerator. Would you please get it for me.”
“Of course, Elmer darling.” Mom got right up and hurried to the refrigerator. I began to look at her in a new light. She jumped every time he said something, and she had a sort of scared look on her face too, or at least in her eyes. It was evident that she loved him a lot, but I had come to the conclusion that he was dominating her just the way he was trying to do with us. Maybe, for all I knew, he had even spanked Mom, big as she was.
I couldn't quite figure it. Now understand, Dear Diary, I'm still a virgin, but I know about the facts of life. I've even had a couple of stolen kisses behind a billboard down at L and Dormeyer Streets, from, yes, you guessed it, Tommy Turnbull. And a few others besides him, too, if you want to know a real secret. Though what Sandra has told me a little earlier about the way Mr. Douglas had acted while he was whipping her with the belt had given me a whole new perspective.
One of the kids at school had said that his uncle used to spank his aunt, and that once he had seen it through a window when he was out in the garden. They hadn't pulled the shade all the way down, and that's why he could see what he saw. And then he said that after his aunt had got spanked, she and his uncle rolled over on the bed and began to make love. Only the word he used was, “fuck.”
Was that what got Mom excited when she went to bed with Mr. Douglas?
I had the answer to that question sooner than I thought. Mom and Mr. Douglas claimed they were tired from the trip and decided to go to bed early, about ten o'clock, so I stayed in the living room watching TV. The movie wasn't very good, I'd seen it several times before, so about half an hour later, I turned off the set and started going up the stairs to my room. Just about then I heard a funny sound, and it was coming from Mr. Douglas' room. I waited a minute, and then I heard it again, and then I heard Mom gasp out something that sounded like, “Oh please, darling, not so hard!”
I tiptoed down the hall, until I was standing right outside his door. It was closed, so of course I couldn't see anything. Then I thought about the keyhole. I knelt down very carefully and held my breath and I looked.
There was Mom wearing just a black nylon shortie nightie, and it was pulled up over her waist and practically tucked up to her armpits. He was sitting on the couch, and she was angled over from his right with her bosom just pressing against the edge of the couch and her hands grabbing out along the surface of it. Her legs were kicking in the air, and he had his left arm tucked around her waist and he was spanking her big pale-white bottom with the same hairbrush Mom had used on poor Sandy. Her face was uplifted, and her eyes were big and wet with tears, but she didn't look as if she was suffering so much. I mean, her trembling lips were formed in a kind of smile, and then I heard her as he brought the brush down again: “Ohhh, oh harder, darling, I've been a naughty girl, make me a good one, oh please, punish me good and hard, Elmer darling!”
“I certainly will, you lovely bitch,” I heard him answer in a husky voice. The hairbrush came down five or six times, real fast and real hard. It practically bounced off Mom's big bottom. I could see now where I had inherited my own rather plentiful portions in that area. And her hips jerked up and lunged this way and that every time the brush smacked her bare flesh. She groaned and sobbed, and she started wriggling around.
Then he stopped all of a sudden. He shoved her back so that she was kneeling in front of him, and he spread his legs very wide. I could see now that he had on just his pajamas, tops and bottoms. “Kiss the hairbrush and thank me for giving your big bottom what it needs, Myrna,” he ordered.
“Oh yes, darling!” Mom was sobbing softly. She took hold of the brush and kissed the back, and then she stammered out, “Oh thank you, Elmer, thank you so much for spanking my big naughty bottom because I've been such a bad girl. Please help me to be a good one for you.”
“You can start by getting me ready to fuck you, Myrna,” he said, and his voice sounded huskier than ever.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. There was Mom on her knees, and she stopped a minute to roll up the nightie so that it was right against her armpits and wouldn't fall back down. I could see the thick dark-blonde curls of her pussy as she knelt between his open legs. And then she reached out and unbuttoned his pajama pants, and took out his cock. It was long and bony-looking, with a broad plumshaped head, and the lips were puckering. I could even see the dark veins along the shaft, where the skin was so tightly drawn.
I began to feel awfully itchy between my own legs just about then. I put a hand to my pussy and I began to tickle myself. And then I saw Mom bend her head forward, open her mouth and take about as much of his cock as she could inside her mouth. It was pressing against her cheek, making it bulge out.
He put both hands to her head, cupping the sides, to keep her in that position. I could see that her ringers were reaching out to tickle his balls and to stroke the hard shaft of his cock while she sucked it. I could even hear the noises of her sucking, and it made me feel awfully funny between my legs. Even my nipples were starting to feel stiff and to ache a little.
“That's enough, you lovely bitch! Now get ready to be hosed. On all fours, that's the way I want you, with that big red spanked bottom of yours up in the air so I can see it, and your legs spread wide apart so I can get into you, Myrna!” he ordered.
“Yes, Elmer dear, yes, my master,” I heard Mom gasp out.
And then she moved away, turned her back to him, and got on all fours. She made sure that the nightie was still pulled way up to her armpits, and then she spread her knees wide apart and bowed her head down to the carpet. Her big bottom was furiously red, but I could see the pink gape of her pussy and all the dark blonde curls framing it.
Mr. Douglas got up from the couch, shucked down his pants, and then knelt down beside my mother. He reached out and grabbed her big round bubbies, and began to squeeze and play with them, while he teased her by prodding his cock against her red behind, along the narrow crease between the cheeks, till finally, he pressed it against the soft pink opening she was offering him. “Oh darling, hurry, I'm dying for it,” I heard Mom call out.
And then I saw his cock disappear in the soft maw of her cunt, and Mom let out a groan, and squirmed a little while he pushed on all the way in. And then he began to fuck her, while her body twisted and squirmed and her sobs and groans rose to my ears.
I got up, and I was shaking. My pussy felt moist, and it tickled until it was driving me crazy. I hurried up the stairs to Sandra's room, and I knocked at the door and I told her who I was. And when I got in, I took off all my clothes, first locking the door behind me, and then I got into bed with her. This was the first time I had really taken the initiative. It's funny, I didn't know anything about Lesbian love, except that one time when Sandra had shown me. But this time I seemed to do everything by instinct. I was sucking her nipples, my finger was poking in her pussy, finding her little clit and rubbing it, till her legs wrapped around me and she held on tight with her arms and we rolled over and over. And then I felt myself burst again, and we both did it at the same time, and we practically fell asleep in each others arms. It was a good thing for me that we really didn't, or we might have been discovered. About an hour later, I got up and went back to my room. I couldn't sleep most of the night, remembering what had happened and what I had seen. But I knew one thing. Mr. Douglas loved to spank, and he also loved to fuck after spanking. I just wondered if that idea would come to him about us.

CHAPTER FIVE

August 18, 1969:
This has really been a time for Sandy and me, Dear Diary! I'm just about ready to run away from home the way she is, you can depend on that. If Mom were ever to read every line in this diary to Mr. Douglas, we probably would be clapped into irons and given bread and water and a spanking every day. We hate him, we're scared of him, and worst of all, I'm beginning to think he's got some crazy ideas about having us — well, you might call it a harem. Betsy Rourke told me the other day how the Turkish Sultans used to have harems in the olden days, where they had lots of slavegirls who had to go to bed with them whether they wanted to or not, or else get tied up and spanked real hard. And then of course they had sex with the girls all they wanted, and the girls had to do just about anything, or else. Well, the way Mr. Douglas has been enjoying — there isn't any other word to describe it except enjoying — spanking Sandy and me, I've begun to think he's just a nasty dirty old man who just loves making girls feel ashamed and having to show everything they've got.
Since the last time I wrote in this book, Sandy and I have each had two spankings. And to make it worse, the first of those had us both getting it, so that each one of us had to watch the other and wait for her own turn, which I think is just awful. That one took place two weeks ago, while the other one happened just last night. Mr. Douglas told Mom that while he will go along with the Saturday afternoon settling of accounts, he still thinks that when one or the other of us is really naughty and has done something particularly bad, the punishment ought to be given on the spot — and that's not just a pun!
Poor Sandy got the worst shipping she'd ever had two weeks ago, but I had to wait for my turn after hers. You don't know what a terrible feeling it is to have to stand there and wait while you see your sister's white bottomturning redder and redder and hear her yelling and begging off, and all the time you know that pretty soon it's going to be your turn and that you're going to have to pull your panties down and get over Mr. Douglas' lap. And you know that you're going to tell yourself to be brave and to keep from moving, but when the hairbrush or the strap starts smacking down on your bare skin, you forget all that and pretty soon you're kicking and showing him everything you have.
Well, Sandy got five demerits on the Monday of that week for talking smart to Mr. Douglas — which she ought to have known better than to do, after all the trouble she had already got into. Then she got four more on Wednesday of that same week, because Mom had said she could go to a movie with Tess Fuller, a cute brown-haired girl whose big brother Dick is nineteen and who really sends me even more than Tommy Turn-bull, if you want to know something, Dear Diary. Tess is pretty well built for only fourteen, and she's already dating a fellow who's sixteen, a real swinger. Mom said that Sandy had to be back by ten, but she didn't get back until eleven-thirty, so that made nine demerits in all. Then, just to make things worse, she argued when Mom gave her the four demerits, and she said “Damn it anyway, can't a girl ever have any fun in this house?” and so she got two more, which made eleven.
So on Saturday when we had to turn our records over to Mom, poor Sandy had eleven, and I had eight, which meant a handspanking over my panties and then twenty on my bare butt with the darn old hairbrush. But poor Sandy's eleven meant that she first had to get a hand-spanking on the bare, and then twenty on the bare with the hairbrush and then ten with the strap on the bare too, and that was just awful.
Part of this new system that Mom had worked out with Mr. Douglas was that if you got five demerits, you got just ten spanks over your panties and a good sound warning about how much worse it would be if you didn't behave the next week. I got six that time two weeks ago, when poor Sandy had her awful thrashing from Mr. Douglas. Six meant that I got a hand-spanking half over my panties, and the other half on the bare. That was the worst part of it. If I had just got the five, I think I could have stood it, but when I had to have my panties taken down for the second part of my punishment, I knew that Mr. Douglas was looking at and feeling my bottom. I just wanted to die of shame.
First of all, Sandy and I both thought that Mom would spank us and that Mr. Douglas would just be there to help or to look on. It didn't work out that way at all. I guess he must have talked to Mom, because on that Saturday afternoon when we were both called to Mom's bedroom, and as we were on our way there, Mom came out and said, “This time, girls, your father is going to do the spanking. He and I have decided that it's the best way to keep up discipline so that neither of you will forget that you're expected to behave like young ladies from now on because of your age.”
Sandy stopped right then and there, and she stamped her foot and said, “That's not fair! I don't want him to watch me, I don't want him to see me bare either! It's not right, Mom!”
“If you are worried about your modesty, young lady,” Mr. Douglas drily put in, “you have only to behave yourself so that you don't get demerits and then you won't have to worry about a spanking. Now get along with you right away! And don't argue, or it will be a good deal worse.”
“It couldn't be much worse with the eleven demerits I've got,” Sandy piped up. That girl could never learn to keep her mouth shut even when she was in a bad situation. And of course, Mr. Douglas took her up on it right away: “Let me hear another word out of you, Sandra Douglas, and I can arrange to give you five more demerits for sassing back. What would sixteen demerits get this naughty girl, Myrna, do you remember from the list we drew up?”
“Yes I do, dear. I'm afraid Sandy wouldn't like it at all,” Mom answered. “It would mean first a good sound spanking with the hand on the bare bottom, and then thirty-five spanks with the hairbrush and then twenty-five with the strap. So you had better hold your tongue, Sandra, if you know what's good for you.”
“It's still not fair!” my younger sister protested, and she had a cloudy expression on her face as if she was about to cry at any moment. “I don't see why he has to want to see me spanked so much. It never happened before when Dad was around, and you know it, Mom.”.
“Just keep it up, young lady,” he was getting angrier by the minute. “This is your last warning. Anymore talk out of you, and we'll make it sixteen here and now. Would you like that, Sandra?”
“Of course I wouldn't! Would you?” she had to go and talk back to him even after being warned. I closed my eyes and groaned inside, because I just knew that she was in for it. And she certainly was. He gave her a nasty smile and then he said “All right. You seem bound and determined to get yourself really punished. So I'll accommodate you. That will make sixteen demerits, young lady. And I think that your mother and I will have to tie you, because I don't think you have the gumption to take all that spanking without trying to get away.”
“Why don't you go ahead and burn me at the stake, Mr. Douglas? You don't like me and you know you don't. And it's mutual!” There she went again opening her big flytrap.
He gave her a slap on the cheek and she gasped, gave him a nasty look, and then Mom grabbed her by the elbow and marched her along into the bedroom. I followed behind all three of them, and my heart was in my boots. I was sort of hoping they would have me spanked first so it could be over with, but no siree, it wasn't like that at all.

Sandy looked very pale and frightened, and Mom kept a tight grip on her elbow so she wouldn't try to run away. Mr. Douglas was just sneering with that superior, thin-lipped smile of his, as if he had been looking forward to this and planning it for years. That's exactly the way he looked!
This time, Sandy was wearing a minidress, bobby socks and loafers. As soon as we got into Mom's bedroom, Mr. Douglas said to her, “By the way, Myrna, that reminds me. I don't at all go along with the way juvenile delinquents are dressing these days. That dress of Sandra's, for instance. In my opinion, it's extremely suggestive. If she runs at school or outside to play or anything like that, she shows practically everything she has.”
“Oh my goodness,” Sandra had to go and break out again, “I wear panties under it, don't you know anything?”
For that, she got another slap which rocked her head back, and then she really did start to cry. She covered her face with her hands and her shoulders shook and I heard her bawl out through her sobs, “I just wish I were dead, that's what! I hate this old house, and I wish I weren't in it anymore, that's what!”
“Just keep it up, young lady,” he was really smiling now, in all his glory, the nasty old sadist (Betsy told me that word and what it meant last March, when we were studying history and came on the name of Gilles de Rais of France).
“Dear, really, almost all the girls of Sandra's age wear clothes like this,” Mom tried to make him simmer down.
“That doesn't excuse it in the least, Myrna!” he said sharply. “And now you're arguing with me, are you? I shall have something to say to you tonight. Very well, Sandra. Remove that dress at once. Myrna, you are going to sit down on the chair and take her over your lap. This time, I shall administer the punishment.”
Then Sandy really did start to have near hysterics. She dropped her hands from her face, she stared at Mr. Douglas, her mouth went open as if she were breathing under water, and then she gasped, “Oh, no, please! You can whip me to death, if you want, but please don't let him do it, please, Mom! I don't want him to see me naked, I don't, I don't! It's not right, it isn't!”
“We have been all through this before, Sandra,” he interrupted in that cold, icy voice of his. “You know, from now on in, everytime you argue or get impertinent, you can very easily add to your collection of demerits. I should think you have enough already to satisfy you for quite some time. Your bottom is going to be extremely sore in a little while.”
Sandy turned to Mom in a sort of last-minute appeal, but it didn't do any good at all. Mom just looked back at her and said sternly, “Now you take off that dress right away and get ready, because if I have to help you, young lady, you won't like it at all.”
I stood there petrified, and I felt ever so sorry for poor Sandy. She ought to have had better sense, though, than opening up right before Mr. Douglas. That was just about the very worst thing she could have done. Even I knew that. So finally she began to take off her minidress, and she was wearing a white cotton bra and panty set under it, and just her bobbysocks and loafers. She really had a lovely figure, and I sort of envied her because she was nice and slim and sleek where I was getting very conscious of my curves.
Then Mom sat down in the straight-backed chair and said, “Come over her, young lady!”
Sandy did, and her head was bowed down, and she was twisting her fingers together and looking very nervous and scared. I certainly couldn't blame her, not with all that awful spanking in front of her — or rather, in behind her, if you know what I mean, Dear Diary!
Mom grabbed hold of the waistband of her panties with both hands and snugged them down to her knees, and in almost the same movement took hold of her waist and pulled her down across her lap. Then, to make sure Sandy wouldn't get away, she swung her right leg out from under my sister and clamped over Sandy's waives. Then she said, “Give me your hands, young land!” Sandy did, and Mom took hold of them with her left hand while she kept her right arm pressed down over the small of Sandy's back. And now everything was ready for the spanking. Mr. Douglas walked over, pulled up a footstool, and put it opposite Mom, so that he sat down facing her. Then he raised his right hand and brought it down with a noisy Smackk on the right cheek of Sandy's bare creamy bottom.
Sandy uttered a stifled squeal and wriggled a little, looking back nervously at Mom. She also pulled at her wrists, but Mom held them very tight. There was already a bright patch showing where Mr. Douglas' hand had landed on her bare tail, and it stood out against the whiteness of the rest of her bottom and back and legs.
He wasn't in any hurry. And I could tell that he was enjoying it. His face was flushed, his eyes were narrow and they had a light in them that I didn't like at all. His hand came down for the second time on the other cheek, and her hips jumped a little, and she called out, “Oww!”
Now there was another bright red splotch to balance against the first one, and now poor Sandy knew what it was going to be like to be spanked by Mr. Douglas. And besides the spanking, she had thirty-five swats with the hairbrush and twenty-five licks with the strap. If only she had been content with the demerits she had got and not try to make an issue of it!
But while I watched, that awful feeling of anticipation got stronger and stronger inside of me. Everytime Mr. Douglas' hand came down on Sandy's squirming reddening bottom, I could almost feel it land on my own bare tail, which it was going to do as soon as poor Sandy had finished with her huge quota. I even found myself counting the spanks Mr. Douglas gave Sandy, as a kind of indication of what I was to get. And I counted a good forty before he finally stopped.
It was all Mom could do to keep poor Sandy in position, even with her leg clamped over my sister's legs; each time Mr. Douglas' hand smacked down on her bare behind, Sandy bucked and jerked, trying frantically to get her wrists free from Mom's hold. She had forgotten all her sassiness, and she was beginning to plead with Mr. Douglas not to spank her anymore because it hurt so much. Her bottom was inflamed and awfully red, and when he finally stopped, she was crying very loud and just shivering over Mom's lap.
Mr. Douglas got up from the footstool and picked up the hairbrush from the top of the dresser. Then he went over to sit down on the edge of the bed, and said, “All right, Myrna, let her have a couple of minutes and then bring her over here for the hairbrush.”
“Oh please, please, Mr. Douglas, I can't stand so much, please, it hurt so!” Sandy cried, and she turned her face to look at him.
“Maybe for once you are going to learn how stupid it is to try to brazen it out with your elders, young lady,” was all he told her. And in a few minutes, though Sandy was sobbing and pleading pitifully. Mom lifted her up and then pushed her over towards Mr. Douglas. Her panties were twisted around her ankles and her loafers had been scuffed off while she was struggling over Mom's lap getting her spanking. So all she had on was her bra and her bobbysocks. Mr. Douglas was staring right at her pussy, but by this time Sandy wasn't thinking about how immodestly she was showing herself off to this awful man who had taken such a hold on our lives. She had got one hand free and was rubbing her red seat as hard as she could to try to get the burning sensation out of it, just as Mom pushed her over towards my stepfather. He pulled her down over his lap, put his left arm around her waist and then he started to spank with the hairbrush before she was even ready. “Count aloud for me, Myrna,” he told my mother. And Mom did, all thirty-five. Oh Lordie, how poor Sandy yelled and screamed and kicked and twisted, trying to get her hands back to cover up her blazing heinie! Her face was screwed up and wet with tears, and now she was really begging Mr. Douglas between spanks to let her off any more: “Oww — awwrrr! Aiii, oh, I'll be good, I'll be so good, Oh I can't stand it any more, you're killing me. Mr. Douglas! Eeyeoww! Ouuuuuuuu — ahrrr — oh please stop, please! I'll never do it again, only let me off any more — please let me — awrrr! I'm dying, I'm dying.”

“You are not dying, young lady, you are starting to learn a very much-needed lesson,” he said grimly. He lifted the hairbrush way up in the air, kept it there a minute, and then banged it down on Sandy's naked seat. First the right cheek and then the left, starting at the tops of her hips and working down to her thighs and then up again. And when he finally had Mom count out the thirty-fifth, I didn't for the life of me see how poor Sandy was going to take another twenty-five with the strap.
But she did. Mr. Douglas gave her two minutes to get ready, and then when she kept pleading and struggling, he told Mom to tie her. It was just awful!
Mom opened the dresser drawer and took out a webbed strap with a buckle, and tied it around Sandy's wrists in front of her. Then she made her kneel down on the straight-backed chair, and took hold of Sandy's elbows as she stood behind the chair and held on tight so that Sandy had to kneel. When Sandy tried to lower her blazing red behind down to her heels to protect herself, all Mom had to do was pull her forward.
Mr. Douglas worked his black leather belt out of the loops of his pants, flicked it in the air, and then took his place at my sister's left. Then he began to apply the twenty-five.
I had to put my hands over my ears to drown out poor Sandy's shrieks and wild, babbling pleas for mercy. I was crying, too, and her bottom was so terribly red that it looked as if it was going to bleed any minute. But it didn't.
When he was finally finished, Sandy was twisting as if she had a thousand bees stinging her heinie, and it was all Mom could do to hold her down on the chair.
Mom helped her down, and then picked up Sandy's clothes and told her to go to her room and stay there until she was told to come out again, and that she would bring Sandy some food later on.
Then both of them looked at me, and I started feeling awfully shaky in my legs.
“This time, Arlene,” Mom said to me, “Mr. Douglas is going to spank you himself. Get ready. Pull your dress and petticoat up over your waist and get over his lap. You are to get half your spanking over your panties and the other half on the bare skin.”
He was breathing hard and his eyes had that awful light I didn't like at all. He sat down on the chair and waited for me as I pulled up my clothes, blushing like a beet because I was so ashamed. But it was going to be lots worse when my panties came down!
Mr. Douglas sat down on the straight-backed chair and waited for me while I slowly and shamefacedly hoisted up my clothes and held them above my waist. I didn't waste any time over Mr. Douglas' lap, and I closed my eyes and tightened all my muscles to get ready. But Mom walked over and ordered me to hold up hands and then she held them tight, so I really felt helpless and more ashamed than ever.
Mr. Douglas didn't start the spanking right away. He sort of adjusted me over his lap until he had me the way he wanted, very tightly up against him, with his left arm pinning my waist, then, to my shame, he pulled at the waistband of my panties so that I could feel the material press hard against the crease between my bottomcheeks, which made me terribly self-conscious about showing my body off to him.
I almost died waiting for Mr. Douglas to start spanking me. I could feel Mom's fingers dig into my wrists, and I could feel the muscles in my legs tremble and shiver as I tried to make myself as small as possible over his lap. Then, I almost called out with shame, because his hand pressed against one of my heinie cheeks and rested there a minute, as if he was feeling me up. I bit my lips and closed my eyes very tightly, and I tried to pretend it wasn't happening. But I could feel it. And then suddenly his hand came down with a loud “Smack!” and I almost jumped because it had taken me by surprise. There was a burning sting where his hand had hit, and now I knew what it was like being spanked by a man. His hand came down again after what felt like another whole minute, on the other cheek, and again it made me gasp and squirm a little.
He was taking his time spanking me, and it began to sting terribly. I could feel tears sting my eyes, but I tried with all my might not to call out or ask for mercy or anything like that. All the same, every time his big hand landed on my heinie, my hips jumped a little, and I jerked at my wrists against Mom's hold. It felt as if he was never going to stop, and he was taking so long between spanks that I almost felt like begging him please to get it over with in a hurry. I knew he wouldn't. And he would only enjoy my saying that because then he would know he was hurting me and shaming me.
I tried to count the spanks so as to distract myself. When he got to twenty-five, he finally stopped, and my bottom felt hot and it hurt a lot. His big hand pressed right over both my cheeks from the last swat, and all of a sudden I could feel something pressing against my tummy. And I knew what it was: it was his cock! He was getting his sex kicks from spanking my heinie. I had never felt so ashamed in all my life.
And now the time had come for my panties to be pulled down, and I nearly did beg him not to do it but to give me double or anything so he wouldn't see me bare. After a minute, Mom said, “Lift yourself up a little, Arlene. You're going to get the second part of your spanking now.”
I did, and he put his fingers under the waistband of my panties and slowly tugged them down to the lower parts of my thighs. I pressed myself down as hard as I could over his lap to hide my pussy from him. And when I did, it was to feel his big hard cock rubbing against my hairy spot. I could feel my face turning red with shame because I knew this and what it meant. He was excited because he was looking at my bare behind and I knew that he wanted to see all the rest of me.

Once again he didn't start right away. And that was the worst thing about getting spanked. I mean, if you knew you were in for it and he had started it right away, you could have gritted your teeth and closed your eyes and just learned to take what you had to, so you wouldn't make a cowardycat of yourself and give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to your feelings. But this way, the way he had of running his hand over my bottom — exactly the way he did when I had my panties on — just drove me wild with shame. I mean, I knew he was doing it for kicks, I had learned enough about him already to understand that. And he liked what he was doing, no two ways about it. So now, after my panties had come down, his hand caressed my naked seat and I couldn't help groaning and squirming a little, again trying my level best to cover up my pussy and tightening my bare red seat as much as I could to sort of cut down the size he had to spank. It was all I could do to keep from begging him please to get it over with, only I knew better. Even a big girl who has to get spanked on her bare heinie has some pride. Yes, even when her stepfather is getting ready to give her more spanking after having made her panty-clad tail sting already.
The difference between spanking on the bare and spanking over the panties was something I could feel right away. Apart from the shame of it, it stung a lot more. And of course the hard spanks he had already given me to prepare me for this had left my bottom terribly tender. The next spanks made my hips weave around from side to side, and I gasped out again, “Oww!”
I tried my best not to kick my legs or to twist around too much because I didn't want to show him everything. But as he kept on, slowly and methodically, it began to hurt more and more, and I could feel the tears running down my face. Several times I lifted my face up to Mom, and I stared at her through my misty eyes, but I didn't get any sympathy from her at all. She just took a firmer hold on my wrists, and gave them a little jerk and then his hand came down again and I forgot about her and could concentrate only on my burning bottom.
I got twenty-five good hard ones on the bare, and I was really crying. But I was proud of myself because I hadn't once asked for mercy.
He let me lie over his lap for a little time after the spanking, and then he himself pulled my panties back up very tightly, so that once again the material chafed me in my crotch. I was so ashamed I wanted to die. And by then his big cock was so hard that it was as if he was trying to put it into me, I swear it was!
“I hope this will be a lesson to you, young lady,” he said in a hoarse voice. “A big girl like you having to be spanked like a child, you should be ashamed of yourself! Now go to your room and stay there.”
I was only too happy to go back to my room. I locked the door, too. And then, lying on my tummy, with my panties pulled down to let the cool air ease the heat of my bare behind, I slid my left forefinger between my legs and began to tickle my clit. I closed my eyes and pretended it was somebody nice like Tommy Turnbull or Dick Fuller who was feeling me up and loving me. And I got so excited that my pussy got all moist, and it was a wonderful feeling, the heat of my spanked bottom helped make me so sexy, I knew. And then I had the idea that if maybe somebody like Tommy or Dick had spanked me instead and then loved me up, it would really be terrific and ever so thrilling. I had discovered something about myself. Yes, I liked to be spanked, only not by Mr. Douglas.

The second spanking for Sandy and me that I wrote about at the start of this entry in my diary wasn't quite so bad. Just the same, it was bad enough. Sandy had got herself another five demerits for sassing back, only this time it was Mom. She had been complaining about how strict Mr. Douglas was, and Mom had said something and Sandy had flared up. Then she forgot to do the dishes when it was her turn, and I had to do them, but Mom came out into the kitchen and caught me, so Sandy got another demerit. That made six. So she got a spanking over her panties and then on the bare the way I had from Mr. Douglas. It didn't hurt quite so much that time, although she did cry. But at least she had learned enough to keep her mouth shut and not add to her problems.
My second spanking was just unfortunate. Sandy and I were sort of chatting in the kitchen on a Wednesday night, and before we knew it, we were getting a little careless with the dishes. I broke a platter, and Mom came out and gave me five demerits right away just on impulse because she was so mad about her nice platter. Then my room was untidy, so that made seven demerits in all. Only this time Sandy wasn't spanked with me, I had to go in there on Saturday afternoon and face the music myself. Seven demerits got me a handspanking over my panties and then with the hairbrush on the bare. Again Mr. Douglas did it. But this time he did it without Mom being there and that was the worst of all.
He sat down on the straight-backed chair and made me stand at his right and slowly pull up my dress and petticoat and hold them above my waist. And then he gave me a long lecture, and all the time I could see the hairbrush lying on the edge of the dresser waiting to be used on my bare butt after his big hand had warmed the seat of my panties. I fidgeted a lot, and he scolded me for being inattentive, as he called it. It wasn't that at all, it was just that I was scared and wanted to get it over with. Finally he told me that I could lie down over his lap, and once again he pulled my panties up as tight as he could so it hurt me between my legs and against my bottomhole. Then he told me to take hold of the rung of the chair and not to let go. Then, his left arm pinning my waist, he began to spank very hard and very slowly.
This time I got thirty over my panties, and I was sniffling and wriggling around a lot by the time he had stopped. He let me lie there a few minutes, then he told me to get up, go over and get the hairbrush and give it to him, and then pull my panties down to my knees and get back over his lap. He watched all the time I did it, and my face was scarlet as I had to pull my panties down and show him my pussy. I went down over his lap as quickly as I could, and once again he went through that awful procedure of adjusting and pulling me tight up against him, and then curving his left arm around me and holding me tightly. This time he told me to count the ten spanks aloud, and I did. Ohh, how they hurt! I swear it was a full minute between each swat, and I had to lie there and wait for the next one while my poor heinie was still burning and throbbing from the last one. I was really crying by the time he finished, and I was ever so ashamed. He told me to get up and pull my panties back on, and once again he had a good look at my pussy. And as I was pulling my panties back up, I could see the hard bulge at the fly of his pants. Our eyes met, and he had a cruel little smile on his thin lips, and I knew that he knew what I was thinking. He wanted to have sex with me; instead he was going to have it with Mom and take it out on her for the kicks I had given him. I wish I could get away from this house, Dear Diary! The only way I can figure out is to get married, but both Dick and Tommy are much too young for that and their parents wouldn't let them anyway. Besides, while I like them both, I'm not sure they're the right ones for me. What am I going to do?

CHAPTER SIX

September 22, 1969:
Dear Diary, an awful lot has happened since the last time I wrote down about my spankings from Mr. Douglas. A new neighbor moved in to the house north of us, a very good-looking man of about twenty-seven, Burt Edwards. It's short for Burton, and he's living there with his Aunt Ella. She's awfully attractive, though she must be easily forty. She's tall, with an oval cameo-like face, dark-brown hair parted down the middle and drawn up from her forehead, and she really looks sexy. Mr. Edwards moved here from Los Angeles to take over the management of a vineyard which makes grapes for good wines. He and his Aunt Ella invited Mr. Douglas, Mom, Sandy and me over for dinner right after Labor Day. I could have sunk through the floor when Burt said to Mr. Douglas, “You really have well behaved and very lovely daughters, Mr. Douglas, and you are to be congratulated.” And then Mr. Douglas had to go and say, “That's because we maintain discipline in our house, and big as these girls are, they aren't too big to get spanked when their bottoms need it.”
His aunt seemed to get awfully interested in that remark, and because she was sitting next to him, she began to talk to him about it in a low voice. I was on the other side of the table next to Sandy, so I couldn't hear too much of what was being said. But from time to time she would glance at me, and then go back and talk to him in almost a whisper.
Since the last time I wrote in my diary, I only got one more spanking. That was on the last day of August, when I had gone to a movie with Betsy Rourke and Dick Fuller had brought along his sister Tess. Dick and I had a soda after the show, and sort of fooled around, and before I knew it I was already half an hour past the curfew Mom had set down. When I tried to argue out of it, I got five more for sassing back, so that made nine. I begged her please to do it herself, but she said no, Mr. Douglas would do it. And sure enough, the next afternoon which was Saturday, I had to report to his bedroom this time, lift up my clothes and go over his lap for a good sound spanking over my panties, and then stand up and take my panties completely off this time at his order, and go back over his lap for thirty hard spanks with the hairbrush. Ohh, how I cried and this time I really begged him to let me off and promised to be such a good girl, Dear Diary! He kept scolding me as he spanked, and he didn't make me count the spanks, he did it himself. That wasn't much consolation, I can tell you. My poor bottom was bounding around in every direction, and I know that I must have shown him my pussy lots of times when I kicked and twisted under the last twelve or fifteen of the hairbrush spanks. He kept me over his lap for quite some time, and then he said to me, “Your mother and I have decided, Arlene, to let you go to work instead of on to college. I think it would be better discipline for you that way. So in a few weeks, I myself will try to find you some kind of office job where you can be useful and make a few dollars, but remember, you'll still be under my discipline as well as your mother's.”
He had put away the hairbrush and he put his hand on my bare burning bottom while he was talking to me. Once again I could feel his stiff cock pressing against my tummy, and my face was just as red as my heinie.
A certain of times at night, when I woke up maybe at midnight or one in the morning and couldn't sleep and decided to go out to the kitchen to get a snack, I heard Mr. Douglas spanking Mom. And once in a while I would listen as long as I could, and my heart would be beating very fast and my pussy would be tickling and getting moist because he always fucked her after he gave her her spanking. He would scold her the way he did Sandy and me, as if she were a little baby, and he would tell her to get her big red bottom well up so that he could get at it, and to spread her legs apart. I didn't look through the keyhole, but I just knew he was giving it to her from behind, the way be had that time I did watch.
Sandy got two spankings since the last time I wrote Dear Diary. But both were just over her panties, and one of them was given her by Mom and the other by Mr. Douglas. She went on back to high school, and I sort of envied her. It got her away from home for most of the day, and she did like some of her teachers and some of her classes an awful lot. I just had to stay around the house and be under their thumb all the time until Mr. Douglas could find me this job he was talking about. Also, Sandy wasn't allowed to wear a miniskirt any more. She had to wear a dress down to her knees, and she also had to wear stockings and a garterbelt. Mr. Douglas said she was very well developed and that she should dress like a young lady. Sandy told me that when she got her spanking from him, he pulled her panties up the way he had mine, and took an awful long time before he began to spank her, and rubbed her heinie a couple of times with his palm before he got started. But she had learned to hold her tongue and not argue or sass back.
But the big news is that today I started working for Burt Edwards as an office girl in his winery office building on Divisadero. Mr. Douglas talked to him last week, and then I went over to his house to be interviewed by him. He's awful handsome, Dear Diary. He's about six feet tall, with curly light-brown hair and nice twinkling blue eyes and a good firm mouth, and his voice is pleasant and mellow. He said he would start me at sixty-five dollars a week and see how I worked out. Mostly I have filing to do and I always could type because I typed my school themes, so I do some of his letters. He writes it down in longhand, and then I type it up neatly.
Yesterday afternoon, though, about fifteen minutes before quitting time, he called me into his office and had me sit down and then he said to me, “Your stepfather tells me that you still get spanked, Arlene. Is that so?”
You should have seen my face than, Dear Diary! I wanted to disappear into thin air, but I just nodded and mumbled something. He chuckled and said, “Don't be so ashamed, it's a perfectly natural thing. In fact, I have a very high regard for girls who get spanked because they are usually much more intelligent and sensitive, and mind a good deal better for having that experience. What would you say, Arlene, if I told you that later on, after you have passed your probationary period, that I have in mind giving you a spanking whenever your work isn't up to snuff? What would you say to that?”
Then I really did blush, practically all the way down to my bubbies, and I know my ears were red! “I — I guess — if — If I had it coming — I guess it would be all right,” I finally managed. My heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to explode. And I had that squirmy feeling between my legs, the kind I always get when I get sexy. Because I could see in my mind's eye his taking me over his lap and pulling up my clothes and then snugging down my panties and putting his strong hand on my bare heinie and then spanking me until I cried. And this time, I wasn't afraid of the idea at all, in fact, I found myself hoping he would really do it! Maybe — well, just maybe, I'm sort of falling in love with Burt Edwards!

October 17, 1969:
Dear Diary, I know I'm in love, and all because he spanked me good and hard just yesterday.!
I've been working about a month now for Burt Edwards, and I really like my work. I'm learning about how grapes are made into wine, and the various kinds of wine, how it is bottled and shipped out and how various wines go with certain kinds of meals and so on. Mr. Edwards — Burt — took me through the processing plant and showed me how the grapes are fermented and then the wine drawn off and bottled according to types and age. It's really fascinating! It's funny, but all this past month I haven't had a single spanking from Mr. Douglas. Sandy, though, has more than made up for it, with three good ones. One of them got her the hairbrush on the bare about thirty times, but the other two spankings were just over her panties. The night she got the hairbrush, she came to my room after midnight and we girl-loved. She told me that it made her awfully sexy when she got spanked and that to be loved up like this, the way we did, was ever so exciting. Of course she said with a wry giggle, “Don't think I want to go out of my way to get spanked just so we can do this, Arlene, but just the same it really sends me when we fool around like this.”
Only it's funny, Dear Diary, I find myself thinking about Burt all the time now, and even that night I loved Sandy up, I closed my eyes and pretended that he was in bed with me and fucking me instead of what I was doing to my sister.
Anyway, what got me my spanking from Burt was that a couple of days ago I made a terrible booboo. I switched envelopes, and I sent the wrong letter to the wrong man, and it cost Burt some money. He had to make a long-distance call to a distributor in Sacramento, and he almost missed a very big sale. He called me into his office a few minutes before quitting time and he pointed out what I had done. I was awfully ashamed and I apologized. Then he looked at me and said, “You know, Arlene, when you first started working, I said that maybe after you were past your probation, I would give you a spanking if you didn't shape up well. For a stunt like the one you just pulled, young lady, I think you have one coming. Don't you?”
My legs started to tremble and my pussy started to get itchy. And I found myself saying that yes I did, I deserved one, and that I wanted to work for him and hoped that he would forgive me, and that if it would help, I wanted him to spank me and get it over with.
So he told me he was going to do it. He told me to pull up my clothes and lean forward across the top of his desk. I did so, I was wearing nylon stockings and a garterbelt these days. I really felt grownup and sexy. My bottom was upturned and sticking out at a very tempting angle, I knew. He came over from his chair and stood beside me at the left, and I felt myself shaking all over. I could see that he had taken out a wooden ruler and was laying it at my right on the edge of the desk to be used. I closed my eyes and squirmed a little, and I waited. He put his left palm on my back, and pushed me down a little, and then he took up the ruler and began to spank me over my panties. He gave me twenty good hard stinging spanks, and I gasped and squirmed and kicked a little.
I thought it was over, but it wasn't. When he finished, he said, “That was just the first part. Now I want you to come over to me on the couch and let down your panties and go over my lap for the last part of your punishment, Arlene.”
I really thought I was going to drop dead of shame then, but on the other hand I felt myself getting weak in the knees and with that squirming feeling between my legs as I saw him move over to the black-leather-padded couch and sit down, the ruler still in his hand. I straightened up a little, and I put my fingers under the waistband of my panties and tugged them down. Then I hobbled over to him, and lay straight down over his lap and stretched out on the couch. I knew he had seen my pussy. He put his left arm around my waist, and then he told me I had been very naughty and had almost cost him a great deal of money on that contract, and asked me if I didn't agree that I deserved a good spanking. I said yes I did. Then he started to spank me with the ruler on my bare heinie. He gave me twenty more spanks, and it really hurt and I kicked a lot, and I was crying at the end and begging him please to stop.
He let me lie over his lap and then he started to feel my bottom with his hand. I shivered, and I thought I would really melt. And then finally it was over and he himself pulled my panties up and stood me on my feet. And then he kissed me and said, “You took it very well, Arlene dear, and I'm pleased with you. Maybe next week I'll give you a raise.”
I can hardly wait for him to spank me again, Dear Diary! Or to kiss me either!

CHAPTER SEVEN

November 3, 1969:
Oh, wow, Dear Diary! I never knew that spankings could be so thrilling and so wayout. In a way, I guess I might have even been wrong about Mr. Douglas. Because now I understand exactly what fun he gets out of spanking a girl and making her feel so helpless and ashamed and childish that it turns her on as well as it does him. Sandy hasn't quite got around to that frame of mind, but I think maybe she might. You see, since I'm so crazy about Burt Edwards, I sort of hinted to Tommy Turnbull that my kid sister was going to turn out to be quite a gal and that in some ways she was prettier than I was. So the first thing I knew, he was having secret dates with her. Of course those dates weren't at night because Mr. Douglas and Mom still don't believe in letting Sandy date until she gets at least seventeen the way I am. But her dates with him were worked out by my nice girlfriend, Betsy Rourke. I mean, she would call up Mom and ask if Sandy could come over to her place and work on some themes or homework, and of course Mom said yes. So then Sandy would go over to Tommy's house. He has an old aunt who doesn't hear very well or see very well, and his folks do a lot of traveling because they are in a promotional kind of business which takes them all around the state of California. So what Tommy would do was to arrange to have Sandy come over to his place when his parents weren't home. And from what Sandy told me the last couple of times, that boy is a real swinger. I sort of hate to lose him, but then Burt is a real man — as nobody else but yours truly can vouch for!
Sandy tells me that she has let Tommy go as far as getting his hand under her skirt and even under the legs of her panties to tickle her pussy while he is French kissing her. And the little minx told me with a sort of swaggering look to show me how grownup she is that when he was doing that to her and sending her into dreamland, and, she was zipping down his fly and taking out his cock and playing with it while she had a handkerchief in the other hand ready to eaten his gism when he would come. Anyway, what really turned her on was that she had a date Friday afternoon with Tommy after Mr. Douglas had given her a quick spanking over her panties without waiting for the Saturday afternoon session because she had been impudent to him. He had just put his foot on the chair and bent her over his knee and paddled her heinie while she had to hold her skirt and petticoat way up and stick her bottom out for the spanks. It hurt a lot, and so Tommy sort of consoled her. Only she was teasing him, and she told me that he took her over his lap and pulled her clothes up, and started to give her a spanking. She got so huffy about it that he got mad at her and pulled her panties all the way down and then he really gave it to her. She was yelling at the top of her voice and telling him that she was going to have the cops drag him off to jail, but when he stopped, he rolled her over and then he began to kiss her pussy all over and to tickle it with his finger. Sandy said that she almost died, it was so exciting. So I guess maybe, Dear Diary, my kid sister is beginning to feel the way I do about Burt.

You see, I've had a couple of more spankings from him and I am now his private secretary and I am earning eighty-five dollars a week. I got my promotion about two and a half weeks ago, and the very first day I started as his private secretary, I got my second spanking from him.
What happened was, I usually go to lunch about eleven-thirty, but the day I started as Burt's secretary, he told me that he went to lunch at that time and that I was to go at twelve-thirty. Anyway, Betsy Rourke called me about ten to tell me that Tommy and Dick Fuller were going to be over to a party at her place on Saturday afternoon and did I want to have Sandy come over because it would be a wonderful chance for Sandy to be alone with Tommy. I rather gathered that Betsy had the hots for Dick, and that's exactly the way it turned out. Then she asked me could I meet her downtown on Van Ness and M Streets for lunch, so without thinking I said sure I could and that about quarter of twelve would be fine.
Anyway, Burt was out of the office at eleven-thirty, so I had forgotten about his telling me not to go until an hour later, figuring that he had already gone to lunch by himself and that I wouldn't be needed in his absence. It was a real mistake, Dear Diary, but as it turned out, I wouldn't have had it otherwise.
So I told the receptionist that I was going out to lunch and that I would be back by a quarter of one. I went to meet Betsy and we had lunch together in a little pizza parlor. She tole me that she had gone to bed with Dick and now she knew what it was like and it was just wonderful. Her folks were out of town and they trusted her, so she didn't have any problems in that direction at all. Of course if anybody ever blabbed, her bottom would be turned up to the razor strap and the hairbrush and then some. But Dick knew all about how to make a girl happy and he had used a safe so she wouldn't get into trouble. She tole me I just didn't know what life was like until I had myself a guy poking me between the legs.
We finished out lunch and I told her I would tell Sandy all about the party. Then I went back to the office, only to find Burt Edwards waiting for me, and fit to be tied.
“Didn't I tell you not to go to lunch until twelve-thirty, Arlene?” he wanted to know, and he was scowling at me.
“Yes, sir, but you were gone so I thought you had gone to lunch and that's why I left,” I explained.
“That doesn't alter the fact that you disobeyed me. Here it is your first day as my private secretary and you willfully go against my orders, young lady. I think that calls for discipline. Would you like to be demoted back down to being a file clerk and not get your raise?” he asked.
“Oh no, Mr. Edwards, please don't do that!” I pleaded with him.
“In that case, you're going to have to agree to receive a good sound spanking from me, young lady. Well, what's your answer?”
I didn't take long in making up my mind, Dear Diary. I started squirming again and I felt my pussy tickling. The mere thought of showing him my bottom and my pussy and being all alone on that couch in his private office really sent me! “I'm awfully sorry, Mr. Edwards,” I stammered. “I don't want to lose my promotion, so if I have to pay for my mistake by taking a spanking, I'll take it.”
“That's very sensible.” He went to the door and locked it, first putting out a little sign which said “Do Not Disturb.” Then he sat down on the couch and he had the ruler in his hand. I started feeling shaky already. “Pull your clothes up above your waist, Arlene, and come over and lie down over my lap,” he ordered.
After I had done so, he made me lift my hips while he pulled my panties down to my knees and twisted them so they would restrain my kicking. Then he told me to give him my hands, and he grabbed hold of them with his left hand so I couldn't cover up. The air-conditioning was on, so I felt the cool air on my naked flesh and I was made very aware of the fact that my big round bottom was about to be ruler-spanked but good.
He brought the ruler down really hard and noisily, and I squealed and kicked up first one leg and then the other. He pulled me closer to him with his left hand, and then he went on spanking. After about thirty spanks, my bottom blazed as if it was on fire, and I began to twist and squirm around and start to cry and beg him please not to spank me anymore and promised that I would be awfully good.
He stopped a moment, and then he told me he thought it was a good idea to give me a really good hard spanking at the start of my new job so I wouldn't forget my responsibilities. He asked me if I didn't agree with him. I was sniffling and trying to catch my breath, but he took that for stubbornness, so he gave me four or five hard stinging swats on the tops of my thighs which really hurt. “Answer me when I talk to you, Arlene!” he exclaimed.
“Oh yes! Owww, ohh, ahhhh, yes, Mr. Edwards, please, please not so hard!” I blubbered.
He put the ruler down, and then he used his hands spanking my naked seat. That hurt even worse. I was twisting and tossing all over his lap, till finally I slipped off and sank down on the floor on my knees, both my hands rubbing my bare bottom and the tears running down my face. He sat there, and from where I knelt, I could see his big stiff cock sticking up tightly against the fly of his pants. I stared at it, and he saw I was watching. “Come back here this minute, Arlene, I haven't half finished your punishment,” he told me.
“Oh please, not any more, it's so sore already, please, Mr. Edwards, I'll do anything you want, but please don't spank me!” I pleaded.
Burt Edwards looked down at me, and his eyes were shining, but he didn't look so cruel as Mr. Douglas did. There was a kind of teasing expression on his lips, and then he said in a husky voice, “I really ought to take you up on that Arlene. Just how far would you go if I did let you off the rest of your spanking?”
I was kneeling there, one hand rubbing my red burning bottom, but the other hand didn't make any effort to cover up my pussy. My panties were twisted around my knees, and my skirt and my petticoat were still pulled up so that I knew that I was showing him everything I had. But now the heat of my bottom was just as much in front of me as it was in back, and I guess that's what made me blurt out, “Whatever you want me to do, Mr. Edwards, I'll do it, only please no more, I'll be a good girl for you!”
“I'm sure of that, honey,” he chuckled. “But you're still a little young for what I had in mind.”
“I'm almost eighteen,” I sniffled, “and I'm crazy about you — there, now you know, and you can spank me if you want to for saying that, but I mean it, Mr. Edwards — Burt darling!”
“Why you crazy kid!” he said in a soft voice, and then he reached down and lifted me up by the elbows and sat me down on his lap. He put his left arm around my waist, and his right hand was stroking my stockinged thigh, and then he kissed me hard on the mouth. I almost fainted, it was so exciting. I flung my arms around his neck and I hugged him and I gave him back his kiss with everything I had. I could feel that the lips of my pussy were twitching and getting wet, and I squirmed around on his knees, because my bare seat was throbbing. But this time the friction felt so wonderful, and it made me all the sexier. I felt his tongue pry between my lips, and then both of his hands went to my bubbies and squeezed them gently. “You darling, you, you sweet darling!” he muttered. “I'm just as crazy about you, if you want to know something. But it's too early in the game to do what I really want, Arlene. Your parents wouldn't let me marry you until you turn eighteen — how far off is that?”
“Next spring, early, but gosh, I wish I could be your wife right now, I really do, with all my heart and soul, Burt darling!” I gasped.
Then I kissed him again, and this time I put my own tongue between his lips. He groaned a little, and I felt his fingers on my bubbies, till my nipples ached and felt hot and hard with longing.
His right hand was stroking my thigh, and now it was moving up above the stockingtop. When it touched my bare skin, I shivered, and I kissed him harder than ever, and my fingers dug into the back of his neck and my tongue thrust all the way inside his mouth. I had never felt like this before in all my life, and my bottom was so hot that it seemed to me I was an entirely different person.
“We better cut that out or I might just take advantage of you, young lady,” he finally said in a harsh, taut voice as he took me by the shoulders and pulled me away from him. “I'm a lot older than you, honey, and I've had experience with girls before, but you're the loveliest I've ever seen. I do want to marry you, but we'll have to wait until you're eighteen. And besides, my Aunt Ella will want to see you again. She's a pretty jealous woman, because after all she's looked after me ever since my folks died when I was about sixteen.”
I want to know her too, Burt dear,” I whispered. “And I want her to like me as much as you do.”
He gave a little laugh, then. “Oh, no doubt about it, honey, she really will. Only she might be a little strict with you, and I can't do anything about it. Last year I almost married a girl, but Aunt Ella had it in for her and broke it up. We'll have to see what she thinks about you one of these days. But now, come lie over my lap again and let me soothe that lovely bottom of yours. I know I spanked you pretty hard.”
“It wasn't too bad, really, Burt darling, it wasn't!” I protested. But his big strong hands took hold of me by the waist and stood me up, and then he pulled me down over his lap again. He moved my clothes almost up to my armpits, and then his fingers were awfully gentle as they stroked my bare back and then my hips and bottom and legs. I closed my eyes and stretched out my arms and shivered. It was so wonderful. I knew he was looking at my bare heinie and that the shadowy groove between the cheeks and I knew, too, that he wanted to see my pussy. I wanted him to know everything about me, to have everything I had. I was so in love with him it hurt, and even then I began to feel grateful to Mr. Douglas for having taught me what a spanking could do for a big grownup girl who used to play with herself and with her sister and really didn't know that she was waiting to be loved by a real, wonderful man like Burt Edwards.
Now his fingers began to press and squeeze and stroke the cheeks of my heinie, especially at the ripest curves where he had spanked the hardest with the ruler and his hand. I felt the hot stinging pain go away and be replaced by a wonderful, tingling feeling that soon passed down along the insides of my legs and up into my pussy. And even as I was lying over his legs, abandoned and ready for whatever he wanted to do to me without a word of protest, I could feel his big cock get awfully hard and press against my tummy. It made me shiver almost with a kind of delicious fright when I thought that maybe one day soon we could be married, and then he could give me a good spanking on the bare and then make love to me... fuck me... oh, the word alone made me get itchier than ever, just thinking about it and what it meant between the two of us!
“Is that better now, darling?” he asked me.
“Ohh, yes, Burt, I feel just wonderful now!” I told him. I didn't ever want to leave his lap. I almost wished he would forget that I wasn't eighteen yet and turn me over and give it to me good. I knew that when I got home and went to bed that night, I was going to have to put my finger on my spot and tickle myself until I came and pretend that he was fucking me.
So finally he let me up and pulled my panties up and gave me a little smack on the bottom as he pulled my petticoat and dress down, and then he said, “I'll call your mother and tell her that we had to work overtime. But in a week or two, I'd like to invite you to dinner so that you can talk to my Aunt Ella. Of course, you've already met her socially, but this will be something different. Just you and I will be there.”
He was so mysterious about it that it sounded very thrilling, and I promised him that I would be very anxious to meet her whenever he wanted.
Well, it happened just two weeks later, on a Friday night. And that's when I got not only my second spanking since becoming Burt Edwards' private secretary, but also my very first from his Aunt Ella!

Mr. Douglas somehow seemed to be a little nicer to me the last few weeks, because Mom had told him that I was doing very well on my job. I was also being very careful not to sass him or leave my room untidy or get any more demerits. After Burt has spanked me, I didn't want anybody else to do it. Sandy was learning to be a quieter girl, too, although I was a little scared that she and Tommy Turnbull might get into trouble. In fact, the night before I went over to Burt Edwards' to see his Aunt Ella, Sandy came to my room at midnight and told me that Tommy had spanked her again and this time kissed her pussy and played with it with his finger until she came and it was all she could do to keep from begging him to fuck her.

Anyway, I could hardly wait until that memorable Friday evening. Mr. Douglas, Mom and Sandy went out to dinner at the Hacienda Motel, and then to a show, so I had the whole evening to spend with my darling Burt and his aunt.
Aunt Ella was a wonderful cook. She had roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, and baked potatoes, a nice salad with Roquefort dressing, and strawberry shortcake which she made herself. We even had a glass of wine, because Burt told his aunt that he thought I was big enough to enjoy it.
His aunt looked really beautiful that evening. She had her dark-brown hair done in a coronet braid around the top of her head, and it made her look very queenly. She had on a blue satin evening gown which was low cut and showed off her high-perched bubbies, and a lot of her tawny skinned back down almost to the waist.
After dinner, she asked me if I would like to see their house, and then she took me through it. It was beautifully decorated, and Burt said that she had done a lot of interior decorating work and was famous for it. When it got to be nine o'clock, we had another glass of wine, and then Aunt Ella said to me, “Arlene, my nephew tells me that you are very fond of him.”
I blushed like a rose, and lowered my eyes and just nodded. He was sitting next to me on the couch, and he reached out and gave my hand a squeeze. “Yes, Aunt Ella, she does love me. And I feel the same way about her.”
“Well, now, Burt, this might be serious. But you know I always have the last word about your girls. Have you told Arlene anything about the kind of test I give them to make sure they are worthy of you, my dear?” she asked.
“Well, I just said that you always had the final say, Aunt Ella. But that's all I told her,” he replied.
“All right, then, I guess I will have to give Arlene my little test. Come downstairs with me by yourself, dear. We're going to leave my nephew here for a while,” she said to me.
I stood up and I looked at Burt, and my eyes were full of love, and I felt my heart was beating very fast. I didn't know what was in store for me, but all I knew was that if I gad to go through a test to prove my love for him, I was ready to do just about anything.
“I'm ready, Aunt Ella!” I said, and I heard that my voice was trembling a little.
She gave me a smile, and her eyes studied me for a minute. Then she nodded: “All right, my dear, then come along. Maybe you are the one that I want my nephew to have, after all. We'll see!”

December 1, 1969
Dear Diary, he loves me, and I've passed all the tests. Now all I have to wait for is my eighteenth birthday, because he has even come over to see Mr. Douglas and Mom and told them that he wants to marry me on my eighteenth birthday!
I've never been so happy in my life, and I just couldn't bring myself to write about that night when Aunt Ella “tested” me the way she did. Not that I didn't get excited, because I certainly did. But it was just that going back to work the next Monday as if nothing had happened between us, and knowing all the time what I knew about myself and about him and his Aunt Ella, made me want to think about it and savor it, the way you kind of remember a wonderful dinner and all the rich sauces and the flavors and the dessert.
So let me see where I left off on the last entry in this book which Mom gave me. I never dreamed that when she gave it to me for my seventeenth birthday, I'd be ending this year getting ready to be a married woman and my darling Burt's spanking sweetheart and lover and everything else that will go with it. Best of all, there will be Aunt Ella too in the family, and she will make sure that I take good care of her nephew, in more ways than one — and of her too!
Now I see where I left off. Well, when Aunt Ella said she was going to take me downstairs, I ran over to Burt and gave him a big hug and a kiss. He whispered to me, “Don't be scared, honey. I know she really likes you. But you have to go through this before we can get serious about each other. Just remember this, I love you a lot and I hope you win so that I can have you early next year, you adorable, sexy little piece!”
Those were just the right words to say to me, Dear Diary, because right then I think I would have gone through fire and brimstone to win my dear Burt forever. It didn't even seem possible that only a few months before I was thinking about a silly boy like Tommy Turnbull or Dick Fuller. I didn't care whether Sandy took them both away from me, if you want to know something, Dear Diary.
Anyway, I followed Aunt Ella down through the kitchen and into a narrow little pantry. There was a door which she opened, and then she flicked on a lightswitch, and I could see a flight of stairs. She told me to go on down, and I did. All I could see from when I started was the gray stone floor of the basement. When I got to the floor, she was right behind me and she took me by the elbow and said, “This way, young lady.”
We walked forward through the darkness, and then I saw a kind of column loom up ahead of me, and she stopped again and turned on another switch. All of a sudden the room was flooded with blazing light, and my eyes opened very wide and I let out a gasp of “Oh, my goodness!”
I had never seen anything like this before. It was a huge basement, and there was a kind of series of Japanese shoji screens which shut off one side of the basement way ahead of me. There was another set right in front of me, but Aunt Ella had pushed aside one of the screens to make a kind of doorway through which I could see into the space ahead. There was a platform there, and on it was a kind of gymnasium horse, padded with leather, with stirrups at one end and straps and buckles at another. There was a low stool near the bench at the edge of the platform, and on it lay some strange-looking things. She took me by the elbow again and led me towards the platform. I could see that on the stool there was a broad leather strap split at one end and the two ends narrowed into very cruel-looking tips. There was also a longhandled bathbrush with very stiff bristles, and there was also a yellow rattan cane with a crooked handle. But there were other things in this basement too.
Off to my left and beyond the platform, there was a vertical post with a crosspiece which had three holes, two small ones at the ends, and a bigger one in the middle. I was to find out that this was a pillory where a girl could be locked by the neck and wrists so that she couldn't do a thing, and anybody could do anything they wanted to her. Off to my right, and near the screened-off boundary of this punishment chamber — for that was what it was — there was a metal triangle set right into the stone floor. I could see that at the top of the triangle which came to a peak, there was a single metal handcuff, and that was used to clamp around the wrists so as to stretch a girl for a good whipping, and there were two narrower metal cuffs at the base of the legs to hold her ankles and spread her well apart so that she could be switched up between her legs and right into her pussy or her bumhole. There was a short little table near this triangle, and on it lay some whips and paddles and a leather sole and a hairbrush and other things which made me shiver with a kind of fearful and yet expectant anticipation. Now I began to understand what kind of “testing” Aunt Ella wanted to do to the girls who were stuck on her nephew. She wanted to see if they were brave enough to take her discipline and follow her orders to that they would make her nephew happy the way she wanted. It was like a flash of inspiration that came to me, and I took a deep breath and told myself that whatever she did, I wouldn't ask her to stop, because I wanted Burt to fuck me and marry me and keep on loving me all the time.
“Are you sure you are ready to go through with this, Arlene?” Aunt Ella suddenly turned to me and asked. “Remember, my dear, that once you say yes, you will have to submit to my orders. Nothing will stop my carrying out my tests, and you can bet all you like but it won't do any good. So if you are the least bit worried that you won't be able to endure what I have in store for you, you had better tell me now and we will forget all about it.”
“No. Aunt Ella, I love Burt and I want him to marry me. If this is what I have to do to get him to marry me, then I want it very much,” I said to her.
She smiled then, and nodded. “That's very nice, dear. Now we'll see just how courageous you can be. My first order is this: “Take off everything except your garterbelt and stockings.”
I began to undress. For a minute, I shivered as I reached back to unhook my bra, and then to pull down my panties and step out of them. I kicked off my pumps, and there I was in just my smoke-colored nylons and my garterbelt. I was awfully sexy and naked, and I felt more naked than if I hadn't had those things on. She looked at me, and then she said, “You really have a magnificent body, Arlene. And you have a particularly beautiful bottom which I am going to enjoy spanking very hard. Later on, when I see that you are getting through your tests, I will tell you why I do this. But for now, I want you to kneel down and clasp your hands together and wait for my next order.”
I did just what she told me to. The floor was cold and hard, and I could feel it through my nylons, and I could feel the nipples of my titties stiffen and prickle. Also, I could feel that I was getting that tickling feeling in my pussy, and she was standing there watching me and looking at everything I had.
Then suddenly she pulled off her evening gown, and I gasped aloud: “Ohh Aunt Ella — you — you're beautiful!”
She was, she really was! Under the gown, Burt's aunt wore a black kid corselet, a one-piece sheath which covered her from about midway down her big firm pearshaped titties to her crotch, with a kind of narrow strap passing between her legs and connecting to the hem at her bottom to cover her pussy. Her legs were bare now, I could see, and she had kicked off her pumps. She moved over towards a low wide bench which had straps and buckles at each end, and on it lay a pair of highheeled black leather boots which she drew up on her long-sleek legs high on her thighs. She looked like a regal, dazzling and powerfully beautiful woman, and I began to feel just a little twinge of fear. She walked over to the stool and picked up the longhandled bathbrush, and then she said to me in a very cold harsh voice, “Now then, slave, crawl over to the platform, bow your head before me and tell me that you are ready to begin your tests.”
I did as she told me to. I could feel my titties and my bare bottom jiggle as I moved on my knees to her, till I was at the edge of the platform on which she was standing with the bath-brush held between her gloved hands. There were a pair of gloves on the bench which she had just put on, the same color as the boots and as the corselet, and they were well beyond her elbows. I could see the glistening of the leather, and I could even see my own face reflected in it. After I had told her I was ready, she ordered, “Very good. Now then, slave, get onto the horse, and put your feet in the stirrups. I am going to prepare you for a good sound spanking on your naked behind.”
I got to my feet and stepped onto the platform and then went over to the gym horse and got astride it. I could feel the hard cool leather pressing against my pussy as I spread my legs and groped with my stockinged feet for the metal stirrups. She moved over to me, and she pulled a wide leather strap across the small of my back and buckled it on the other side of the horse to pin me so that I couldn't get off. Then I really did feel a little scared, and it pressed me down very hard and I could feel my pussy rubbing against the horse. The cheeks of my bottom seemed to feel bigger than ever because of that strap which sort of made them thrust up all by themselves and helplessly awaiting the spanking which I knew she was going to give me with the bathbrush.
Then she squatted down and tied some straps around my ankles which were connected with the stirrups so that my feet pressed down against the hard metal bars of the stirrups, and adjusted them so that my legs had plenty of room to move, though because of the anklestraps I couldn't shake them loose. Then she went around to the head of the horse and squatted down again and took each of my wrists and strapped them tightly and buckled them till the leather bit into them. Now my arms were dragged down as far as they would go and my bubbies were mashed down against the horse. I was utterly helpless.
Next she pulled a black bandanna over my eyes and knotted it at the back of my neck. Then she asked me, “Arlene, are you ready for the first part of your test?”
“Yes, Aunt Ella!”
Suddenly I got a terrible spank with the flat side of the brush on my right bottomcheek, and I yelled out, “Oww!”
“From now on, slave, you are to call me Mistress Ella. Everytime you forget that, you will get a good hard spank, so be careful. Very well, I shall accommodate your request. Remember also, it will do you no good to beg off. You have agreed of your own free will to submit to me, and I must prove your worthiness.”
I could hear her moving along the platform, and I squirmed and tried to make my position more comfortable. My legs were straddled, and my pussy pressed very hard against the horse, and so did my titties. I could hardly move my arms, though I could shift my legs a little and kick some. But mostly, I was conscious of the fact that my big bare bottom was tilted up and spread out and defenseless to the brush.

I don't know how long I lay there waiting, but it was suspense and torture. Maybe it was five minutes, maybe even ten. I know I groaned a little and I turned my blindfolded face this way and that trying to hear where she was and find out what she was doing. And then all of a sudden I felt the bristles of the brush scratch my bare behind and wander all over the cheeks, even between them till they tickled and pricked my bumhole.
This was to make my bottom more sensitive for the spanking, as I later found out. It didn't ease my fear any, I can tell you that, Dear Diary!
Then suddenly there was a burning pain and a loud “Thwack!” and I felt my hips jump and I let out a yell. She had brought the bathbrush down as hard as she could on the lower right cheek of my bare heinie, and it stung like blazes. Now I knew my ordeal had begun, and I gritted my teeth and tried to clench my fists so that I could bear everything she was going to give me. I tried hard to think of dear Burt and how much I wanted him to fuck me and to be my husband and to have the right to spank me and undress me and play with my pussy and titties whenever he wanted to. That was what I had to cling to now in my test of courage.
Then there was another hard noisy spank on the base of the other cheek of my bottom, and I cried out again because it hurt so. I felt myself fight the buckling strap over my back, and I lifted my head and tried to look back at Aunt Ella. She waited a long time, and all during it I could feel the heat of those first two spanks grow and grow in my bare tender heinie till I thought I was going to cry. Those were the hardest two spanks I had ever had in all my life, much harder than anything Mr. Douglas had ever given me.
I kept my muscles tense waiting for the rest of it, but she waited such a terribly long time that I got nervous. I heard myself sob, “Oh, please, Mistress Ella, won't you please spank me and get it over with, please?”
Her answer was to give me a hard spank with the bristled side right over the crease of my bottom, and it stung just dreadfully. I screamed, then, “Oh, not there, please not there, I'll be good!” and I heard her utter a low husky laugh.
It reminded me what a little coward I had become, and that I wouldn't be worse being Burt's love slave. That gave me more courage, and I ground my teeth again and held myself ready for the rest of it. And then after another long minute, she began to spank my poor bottom very hard. This time she used the flat of the brush, and she knew how to spank, I can tell you that, Dear Diary! First the left cheek, then the right, starting at the bottom and working up instead of the usual way Mr. Douglas had done with me. I found out that when a girl is spanked on the lower part of her bottom, it hurts so much worse than right at the plumpest parts or towards the top of her heinie. I was crying by the time she had given me about twelve more, then she stopped and said in a sort of sneering voice, “The poor little girl with the big red bottom is crying like a baby now. Maybe she would like to leave and pretend that she never came here.”
“Oh no, Mistress Ella, I want Burt to love me, I do, I do!” I sobbed. “I'll do whatever I have to do so that he'll love me back, I mean it!”
“That's a good girl, dear,” she said almost tenderly. But then she gave me two terribly hard spanks in the same place over the top of my right bottomcheek which made me cry, and then two more over the left one before she waited a minute and let me sob it out.
I tried to keep count, tried to count the spanks to myself so as to forget how hard they were and they burned my sore heinie. But I couldn't. She would keep me waiting such a terribly long time and I almost died, and then suddenly she would give me three or four stingers in the tenderest spots till I thought I couldn't stand it any more and I almost found myself begging her to stop a minute and let me rest. Then she would let me rest, only to start all over again with five or six slowly and very stingingly administered whacks.
My bottom burned so awfully that I didn't think it would ever feel normal again. I was crying and I was shaking on the horse, and could feel the strap holding my back down and rubbing my pussy into the horse. My legs were kicking jerkily, and my fingernails were digging into my sweating palms. It was by far the worst spanking of my whole life, and I didn't think I could stand it.
And then all of a sudden, after an awful spank that pinched the inner edges of my bottomcheeks right over the crease, she said, “That was very good for a start, slave. Now I will leave you here for a few minutes to reflect on what else I may have in store for you tonight during your first important test.”
I heard her footsteps moving away from me, and then there was silence except for my sobs and sniffles. I tried to move around on the horse, and all I could feel was the blazing heat in my poor bottom. But there was something else, too. My pussy was just as much on fire. And before I knew it, I was rubbing myself shamelessly on the hard cold leather and trying to get myself to come so it would ease the pain, and I was closing my eyes and trying to pretend that Burt was there and that he was getting ready to fuck me.
Then I heard her footsteps come back again — I don't know how long it was, but it must have been at least half an hour. I heard something sliding on the floor, something hard, and then I heard her voice just in front of me: “Now you are going to answer some questions truthfully, slave. Remember, the impression you make tonight will have a great deal to do with what I decide about you and my nephew. “Y — yes, M — Mistress,” I gasped tearfully.
Suddenly I felt something flick me over my sore bottom and I gasped and groaned and squirmed a little. “This is a martinet, slave,” she announced. “If I'm not satisfied with your answer, you feel this three-thonged whip spank you very hard. Now get ready. Have you ever made love to a boy or has he had you?”
“Oh no, Mistress Ella!” I gasped out right away.
“Then you are a virgin?”
“Y — yes, M — Mistress Ella.”
“Have you played with yourself at night when you are alone in bed, girl?” was her next question.
“Y — yes I have.”
“Or with any other girls?”
“Y — yes, M — Mistress Ella, I have.”
“With whom?”
“With my sister Sandy.”
The next thing I knew, I felt a terrible stinging smack as the three leather bands bit over my burning heinie, and I yelled out, “I'm telling you the truth, Mistress Ella, I did it with Sandy, oh please don't hit me with that awful whip.”
“That was just to quicken your mind, slave. Now be very careful how you answer this next question. Are you ready?”
“Y — yes, Mistress Ella,” I sobbed, wriggling on the horse and trying to ease the awful pain in my heinie.
“If I let you off any more spanking tonight, will you show your gratitude by making love to me the way I order you to do?” she demanded.
“Oh yes!” I said without even thinking. “I'll do anything you want, I promise I will, only just let me be Burt's girl!”
I heard her moving about, and then suddenly she said to me, “Lift up your head and put your mouth to my pussy, slave!”
At the same time, I felt her gloved fingers twist in my bobbed curls and force my face right up against her. I guess maybe she had unfastened that flap between her legs, the one that was attached to the hem of the corselet. Anyway, my lips pressed against the tickling curling hairs of her pussy, and I could inhale the pungent, tangy odor of her spot.
“Love me, slave! Let me see how imaginative you are,” she ordered, and she gave me a light flick with the whip over my bottom and legs that made me jump and groan. I didn't wait. I began to kiss her pussy and then to use my tongue all over the lips and inside till I felt the hard button of her clit.
As soon as I reached it, she groaned, “Oh, you darling you! That's lovely, you're a wonderful slave, and I think you're going to pass! Keep it up, or I'll whip you raw, you lovely naked bitch!”
She was getting awfully excited. I could feel her moving around and squirming herself so that her pussy mashed against my mouth and nose. I kept rubbing with my tongue all I could, and she began to give me a few flicks with the whip until I was nearly crazy from the pain and also the pleasure I was getting because my pussy was rubbing against the horse and I was getting very close to come myself.

And then suddenly she uttered a groan and tugged at my hair and mashed her pussy against my mouth and then I knew that she had come.
After a long minute, she said to me, “Arlene, now I am going to tell you a little about myself. My nephew Burt is a very passionate young man. I was the one who trained him, when he was only about sixteen. The man I was in love with was killed in a motor crash some years ago, and when Burt's parents died, I brought him up. One evening quite by accident, he saw me naked, and I knew that I was going to have to do something about it. He was already showing interest in girls and he could have got into trouble. So I resolved that I would bring him up and let him learn his sex from me so there would be no danger of scandal. You understand me?”
“Y — yes, Mistress Ella,” I gasped.
“You are most intelligent beyond your age, my dear. That's why I think very likely you may be the one that Burt can really love and whom I approve of,” she went on. “There was never any danger between us, because I had a serious illness about ten years ago, and I had to have an operation which meant that I could never have a child. So there wasn't any danger of Burt's getting me pregnant — do you understand, dear?”
“Yes, Mistress Ella.”
“So I became his sweetheart, but I also found that he had a little of the sadist in his makeup. Once we had a maid who turned out to be a little thief, and I took her over my lap and spanked her bottom. Burt happened to come in, and he got an erection right away — that means he got excited and wanted to make love. I sent the girl away and then I made love to him. I asked him about what he had seen, and he admitted that it excited him. After that, I knew that to give him a rich and full sexual life, he would need an occasional spanking scene. And so as he got older, there were times when I would pay a maid more money to work for me with the understanding that she would from time to time allow herself to be spanked, till finally I let Burt do it himself. But I never let him make love to any of those girls, because they could perhaps blackmail him. Do you begin to understand something about us, darling?”
Yes, I did, and I told her so.
“But there was always one thing lacking, Arlene dear,” she went on. Now I felt her gloved hands gently stroking my burning, swollen heinie. “All of these girls whom I spanked in front of Burt were afraid of punishment, and ashamed, and there wasn't any sex for them at all. I knew that Burt wanted to find a girl like myself who could enjoy the pleasure of punishment as well as the humiliation and the suffering of it — can you understand that, dear?”
“I — I think so, Mistress Ella. It — it was like when Mr. Douglas spanked me, I was thinking about a boy I once thought I was awfully stuck on, and wishing that he was doing it instead,” I told her.
“That's exactly it, dear! Your nature has some of the masochist in you, which means that you enjoy being dominated by a stronger person. And when you love that person, then the pain and the shame of the spanking turn into joy and delight for you — isn't that true?”
“Yes, I know it is Mistress Ella,” I said fervently.
“Well, my darling, I think that we have made a wonderful start. I'm very sure that you will be the girl that I have tried to find for my nephew, and in the months ahead until your eighteenth birthday, we shall have more of these tests, until finally I bring you together with my nephew to make certain that the two of you begin a life of uninhibited happiness. We shall tell your mother and stepfather nothing about this, of course. It will be our secret. But I think you have passed, and now would you like Burt to come down and talk to you?”
“Oh yes, oh please yes, Mistress Ella! I — I wish he could love me right now!” I gasped, and I began to cry a little from sheer happiness in the midst of all the terrible burning that my poor bummy was undergoing.
She laughed softly. “I'll bring him to you, Arlene darling,” she promised.
And in a few minutes I heard his footsteps, and then I blushed because I was bare-naked except for my garterbelt and stockings, and I knew that my big bottom must be terribly red from all that spanking, and he could just about see everything I had. Then I heard noises in front of me, and all of a sudden his fingers were in my hair and with his other hand he was stroking my tearstained face and murmuring, “You sweet darling, I was praying that you would pass this test, and Aunt Ella tells me that you've done more than she could ever hope for this first time. Now we can consider ourselves engaged, my darling. And all I'm going to ask of you until our wedding night is one very loving slave-like kiss. It may shock you a little, and I won't mind if you say no. But will you give it to me of your own free will without being spanked?”
“Oh yes, dearest, oh yes, Burt, my lover, my husband,” I sobbed joyously.
And then I felt his fingers unknot the bandanna and take it off and I could see again. And he was standing on a stool in front of me, and he was wearing just shorts and sandals, and the shorts were unbuttoned and his big hard cock was sticking out in front of my mouth. I gasped and I turned a flaming red, just like my heinie. But without hesitating almost, I opened my mouth and I gave his cock a loving long kiss.
And then I trembled and shivered and I began to rub myself against the horse because Aunt Ella had taken off her corselet and was naked except for her boots and gloves, and she was leading Burt to the bench and lying down on it and he was getting on top of her. And they were fucking in front of me, and I was envious, Dear Diary. I watched his muscular bottom jerk up and down as he plunged into her pussy, and I saw her arms and legs wrap round him and hold him tight as they kissed and did all the things I wanted one day so soon to do!

CHAPTER NINE

June 19, 1970:
It's like a wonderful dream that has suddenly come true, Dear Diary! My name is now Arlene Edwards, and I've been married just ten days. But so much has happened since that time I went through Aunt Ella's first test but I don't know how I can write it all down. It's in my mind, and it's in my flesh too, and I think maybe I will always go back to you, Dear Diary, and write down things as I remember them and recall them. And there will always be new things happening to me to give me more ideas for writing so I can remember in the years ahead.
Where shall I begin? Well, after Aunt Ella and Burt fucked, they untied me and then Aunt Ella gave me a massage with cold cream so that I didn't hurt any more. Then I got dressed and Burt took me back home and told Mom that we were going to be engaged and that he hoped Mr. Douglas would agree to my being married when I got to be eighteen.
Mr. Douglas was very happy. He told me that Burt was a fine young man with great prospects and that Burt struck him as the sort of man who would know how to keep a young flighty wife in line. Mr. Douglas couldn't know how right he was, could he, Dear Diary?
About two weeks later, Aunt Ella invited Sandy and me over to their house, But Sandy was sort of disgraced. Mr. Douglas had found out from a neighbor who had seen her and Tommy Turnbull hiding in an old garage and necking, a d Mr. Douglas said that she was going to get the spanking of her life. But Aunt Ella asked him if it would be all right if she gave Sandy her spanking instead, and he finally agreed.
So after dinner, Sandy, who was scared as anything and didn't of course know what was going on between Aunt Ella and me and Burt, went downstairs with us to the basement. When she saw the triangle and the horse and the bench, and all the shipping instruments, she got terrible scared and started to cry and said that she would rather have Mr. Douglas spank her. But Aunt Ella told her that if she didn't submit, she would get a double spanking, the other one being from Mr. Douglas, so Sandy finally agreed.
Sandy was made to take off all her clothes, and then Aunt Ella lead her over to the triangle, while Burt took her wrists and held them up above her head and locked them into the single cuff. Then Aunt Ella locked Sandy's ankles in the separate cuffs at the base of the triangle.
Then Burt said, “Sandy, your sister has been naughty too, so maybe it will ease your mind a little to know that I'm going to give her a good spanking while my aunt gives you yours.”
I gasped and blushed, but already he was leading me over to the bench and sitting down on it and taking me over his lap. He pulled up my dress and petticoat, and then my panties were tugged down to my calves. He picked up the leather sole and began to spank me lightly with it, while Aunt Ella went behind Sandy and touched the outline of her firm cheeks and the wide straddle of her slim lovely legs. Sandy turned her face back and anxiously wanted to know how many spanks she was going to get, because, of course, Mr. Douglas had so kept up his demerit system. But Aunt Ella didn't tell her. Instead, she picked up the same longhandled bathbrush she had used on my poor heinie and began to spank Sandy with it. After about twenty spanks, Sandy was jerking and twisting in every direction, and crying hard and begging for mercy. Then Aunt Ella put her left forefinger around Sandy and began to frig her soft pussy while she gave her a few light spanks with the bristled side of the bathbrush. Sandy squealed and told her to stop, but pretty soon it was evident that the tickling and frigging was making Sandy very hot. She began to push her pussy back and forth trying to get Aunt Ella's finger to go in deeper, and all the time Aunt Ella was increasing the tempo of the bristle spanks until suddenly Sandy squealed and shivered and then came.
Burt had been spanking my bottom all the time with the sole, but he slipped his forefinger under my tummy and began to frig me at about the time Aunt Ella was loving Sandy up, so we both came about the same time. I was just dying to be loved up, but Burt wouldn't do anything more. Except one thing. He had me kneel down and thank him for my spanking by opening his pants and shorts and taking out his cock and kissing it. Then he let me play with it until he came, and gave me a handkerchief to catch his juice in. Then I dressed, and gave him a long French kiss, while Aunt Ella cuddled Sandy until she stopped crying, and then unlocked the cuffs and helped Sandy dress and then we both went home. Sandy told Mr. Douglas that she had got a very hard spanking and he wanted to see her bottom, so she had to pull up her clothes and let him pull down her panties and look. He said he was satisfied.
I got two Christmas gifts from Burt. One was a beautiful engagement ring, and the other was an oval-shaped wooden paddle with my name Arlene, cut into it with a whittling knife. Both Mom and Mr. Douglas laughed a lot about that, and Mr. Douglas said that it certainly looked as if I was going into the right hands when I became a bride. Oh yes, I knew that too, and I could hardly wait, Dear Diary!
About the middle of January, I went over to Burt's house again, but this time all by myself. It was Aunt Ella's birthday, and I swear she certainly didn't look her forty-one years at all. This time she told me she wanted to have me all to herself, and she sent Burt out to a movie. She took me down to the basement and made me strip naked except for my garterbelt and stockings again. Then she sat down on the bench and gave me a good hard spanking with her gloved hand. All she was wearing was boots and gloves, because she took off her dress as soon as we got down to the basement. And after I had had my spanking, she stretched out on the bench and told me to love her. That was the night she taught me how to sixty-nine, kissing her pussy with my head between her long legs while she held my bottom and pulled me down to her face and gammed me good until we both came.
In February, Sandy was sent over to Aunt Ella for a combination birthday and punishment spanking. She was sixteen, and again she had been caught fooling around with Tommy Turnbull. This time Aunt Ella made her strip all bare and climb on the horse and get strapped down. Then she blindfolded Sandy, and she had me give Sandy her sixteen spanks and one to grow on before she took over. Burt took me over to a low couch she had put in the basement, and he said that since we were going to be married the next month, it would be all right to pretend that we were almost married — but not quite. He undressed me down to my bra and panties and garterbelt and stockings, and he was wearing just a bathrobe. He was strong and naked under it. He cuddled me in his lap while we watched Aunt Ella spank Sandy's squirming bottom with a leather strap. The way she jumped and twisted and the way she yelled and begged for mercy and cried got us both excited, and before I knew it, he had taken off my bra and was sucking one of my nipples while his finger was poking inside my panties to frig my little clit till I creamed. When it was over, I went down on my knees and opened his bathrobe and began to kiss and suck his cock and this time, Dear Diary, I took his strong hot juice in my mouth and I swallowed it all. He said I was going to make a wonderful wife and lover, and that he was deeply in love with me. Of course we were both quiet so that Sandy didn't know what was going on, because we didn't want her to tell.
Besides, after she had had her good sound spanking, Aunt Ella untied her from the horse and led her over to the bench and then made her lie down on her back while she got over Sandy and started to love her up the way she had done with me. And pretty soon Sandy was in seventh heaven as she was being gammed and was learning to gam at the same time.
And so on my eighteenth birthday I became Mrs. Burt Edwards. On our wedding night, I gladly stripped all naked and let Aunt Ella tie me to the triangle. She blindfolded me, and then she gave me a good hard spanking all over my bottom and thighs. Then she came around in front of me and started to tickle my pussy with a feather and my nipples too, until I was pleading with her to let Burt love me up. And finally she did. Burt came in and stood in front of me and began to fondle my titties and French kiss me while Aunt Ella began to spank my bottom again with her gloved hand. It made me cry, but the pain was so wonderful. Because I felt Burt's big hard lovely cock press between the lips of my virgin pussy and up against my cherry. And when I yelled out that I was feeling him, Aunt Ella started to spank me with the bristled side of the bathbrush so that I jerked forward and he broke through my cherry. Then he began to fuck me while she kept spanking me gently this time, and soon I was just delirious with the pain and the pleasure of it all.

The first week of my honeymoon was spent in the basement every night, Dear Diary, and sometimes Burt would let me be spanked over Aunt Ella's lap just like a child and then I would have to gam her while he knelt behind me and grabbed my titties and put his wonderful cock deep into my eager pussy and made me work hard to earn my come by making Aunt Ella come first.
Burt and Aunt Ella and I decided to go off on a sort of delayed honeymoon to Acapulco. He has promised to do some awfully naughty things to me, and I can hardly wait.
We took a plane from Fresno down to San Diego, and then we got on a train and crossed the border. First we went to Mexico City by bus, because it was scenic. We spent a week there, and then Burt and Aunt Ella tole me they were going on to San Lorando, a small province in the heart of Mexico. Burt mentioned that he had a cousin down there who had lived there for about ten years and was a very wealthy landowner.
Well, it was a long trip taking about three days by bus. About fifty miles before we were coming into the little city of Quarterano, where Burt's cousin lived, all of a sudden the bus stopped. The driver yelled out something in Mexican about bandidos, and I was a little scared. I looked out of the window, and I could see about ten men riding up around the bus on horseback, wearing masks and brandishing pistols.
Two of the men got off their horses and came into the bus. They said something to the driver, and he pointed back at the three of us who were in the back seat. It was a small bus, with maybe about twelve people in it, and room for maybe twenty-five at the most. The two men came forward and they grabbed Aunt Ella. Burt got up and started to say something to them in their own language, but the bigger man of the two pushed him in the chest and made him sit down and showed him the gun. Burt looked at me and shrugged as much as to say, “Well, I did the best I could, but it wasn't enough.”
So the two men took Aunt Ella outside, and some of the other men guarded her while the two men came back into the bus and picked Burt and me up and made us get out and follow them. I had to sit behind one of the riders and hold on to him with my arms, while Burt did the same with another man. Aunt Ella was with the bigger of the two men who had come into the bus to take us out of there.
I don't mind admitting, Dear Diary, that I was scared as the dickens. I thought they were going to maybe hold us for ransom of something, because actually my darling Burt had told me in Mexico City that where we were going was infested with lots of bandits and people who had to live by their wits, and that we were going by a private bus line whose driver knew the territory well enough so that he would take a route where the bandits weren't supposed to be around. But I guess that maybe they were too smart for the driver.
Anyway, we rode for about an hour, and we came to a ranch which they called a hacienda. Burt looked at me and said, “This isn't the one belonging to my Cousin Jaime.” He told me that in Spanish or Mexican, James is spelled Jaime. The name of his cousin was Jaime Durado, and it seems that Burt's father's brother had had a Mexican sweetheart and given her a kid without marrying her, and that's how this Jaime Durado happened to be related to my husband.
Well, anyhow, Dear Diary, all the horseback riders pulled up in front of the ranch and got off their horses, and two very handsome women came out of the house, which was a big sprawling one with a huge veranda, made of adobe (which means mud). They wore lowcut, off-the-shoulder blouses and wide skirts, and they wore sandals. They has swarthy olive skin and they were big and busty, with black hair coiled around the tops of their heads. The bigger man who had Aunt Ella called them “Inez” and “Conchita,” and then he looked back and grinned at me and said “Querida, don't be afraid of my muchachitas. They are just servants from another house and they ran away because they were treated badly by the patron, so now they ride with my band. This is a deserted hacienda, and we banditos stay here because nobody bothers us. So we have much room here and there will be good food and some vino for all of you if you behave yourselves.”
Then Burt asked them in English, since the man spoke English to him, what they were going to do with us. The man just grinned and shook a finger at Burt and said, “Do not be so curious Senor. We are going to do nothing to you, of course, because you do not interest us except for the ransom. But these lovely mujeres of yours, that is another story. Take them into the house, Sancho.”
Sancho was the other man who had come into the bus with the bigger one, and he showed us the gun and made Aunt Ella and me walk into the ranchhouse. I can tell you, Dear Diary, that my legs were shaking all over the place and I was nearly ready to faint when Sancho prodded my behind with his gun and said to me in a low voice, “Que diablo, but you have a magnificent ass, Senora. That is true, is it not? You are the wife, the mujer, of the Senor?”
“Yes, I — I am,” I said in a very faint voice.
“But you are so young, lind! Tell me, how long have you been married?”
I had to tell him just a few weeks, and he laughed and then he prodded my behind again with the gun and whispered to me, “Then it will be my pleasure, and that of my men, Senora, to teach you a few tricks your husband has not yet had time to teach you, non es verdad!”
I looked at Burt, because I really didn't know what to do. Aunt Ella was standing against the wall looking very pale and cold. When the men looked at her, she sort of sniffed and drew herself up, as if to tell them that she wasn't to be touched. They had other ideas in mind, I'm afraid.
Well, the house was sticky and hot and the sun had been pouring down all afternoon, even on the bus, so first the bandits said they were going to take a siesta. Then the man called Sancho came over and tied my wrists behind my back and he did the same to Aunt Ella, and then he tied Burt up and put a gag in his mouth so he wouldn't yell for help. Not that the rurales would hear, as he explained (that was the term they used for police), but so it wouldn't disturb their siesta.
So then two men took Aunt Ella and me into a little room and locked the door and left us there. There wasn't any window, and one of the men said in broken English that they would be outside with guns and if we tried anything, we would be very sorry.
I turned to Aunt Ella and I asked her, “What do you think they are going to do to us?”
“We are women, darling,” was her answer, “and I think they may try to have some fun with us. It is best not to resist them. I don't want you hurt, and I certainly don't care to be manhandled by those brutes. You know how I feel about men for the most part.”
I nodded. I knew that she was a dominatrix, and I knew from the little sessions I had spent in her basement when she was preparing me for my darling Burt that she much preferred to have fun with girls like me than do anything with a man. Oh yes, of course, she had enjoyed watching Burt and me fuck, but she really didn't want to do it herself, she had explained to me once.
I was a little scared. Of course by now I was a new bride, and I knew what fucking was and of course Burt had spanked me before he loved me up to get me real hot. But the idea of having anybody else, especially strangers and bandits into the bargain, really scared me.

CHAPTER TEN

August 5, 1970:
We tried to sleep, there was a rude bed in the room, but it wasn't any use, I just couldn't fall asleep. Aunt Ella did close her eyes and sort of drowse, but that's about it. And then after a couple of hours, the door was opened and the two men who were guarding us came in. They were still searing their masks, but I gasped aloud and blushed because I saw that all they had on were white shorts of very cheap cotton, and sandals. They still kept their masks on, but I could see their big hard cocks pressing out against the front of their shorts, and I looked at Aunt Ella and I blushed.
“Are you going to let us go?” she asked them.
“I'm afraid not, Senorita.” said one of the men as he bowed in a sort of mock acknowledgement. “You are going to come with us now. We don't want you to be disobedient, Senorita, because otherwise we shall have to punish you a little. That would be our pleasure, but I do not think you would like it, eh, Miguel?” He turned to his friend, and the other man chuckled. Then they take hold of us and pushed us out down the hair and back into what was probably a bedroom in the hacienda. I saw that Burt was there, and he was sitting in a chair with his wrists tied behind the back of the chair and he had the gag in his mouth. They had tied his legs to the chair also, at the calves and at the ankles. And one of them had pulled down the zipper of his fly, and pulled his cock out, and I could see it and I really blushed then, Dear Diary! It made me feel sort of naughty to think that all these masked Mexican bandits could see the prick that Burt used to fuck me with, right there in front of everybody including Aunt Ella.
The man called Sancho was dressed in shorts and sandals and was masked just like the two that brought us in. Altogether, there were about eight men there. And Sancho said to Burt, “Now then, Senor we are going to have a little amusement with the mujeres. We shall not hurt them too much, and if they do what we want, they may even find it very pleasant. I advise you not to try to get loose, because we have tied you tightly. And we would hate to have to hurt you, especially since you are kind enough to furnish us with two such lovely mujeres.”
There was a laugh from all the men at this, and Aunt Ella started to get red in the face. But before she could say anything, Sancho made a sign and the two men who had brought us out of the room began to tear off our clothes.
Then she really cried out and struggled. Of course, her wrists were still tied behind her back, so she couldn't defend herself. She tried to, by kicking, but they just laughed at her and finally flung her down on the rug on her face, and started ripping off her clothes till she was down to just her panties and bra and a garterbelt and stockings. Then one of the two men, the one they called Miguel, put his left hand on the small of her back and raised his right hand and spanked her bottom over her panties good and hard about five times. “That is for trying to fight, Senorita.” he told her. “Now maybe you will be a good girl and do what we tell you to.”
The two men pulled her to her feet, and tears were running down her cheeks, and she looked over at Burt and started to say something, but one of the men who pulled her up ripped off her bra and showed her titties. Everybody called out in admiration, and pretty soon all the men in the room were clustered around her, felling her up, squeezing her bubbies, pinching her bottom, and saying wicked things in both Mexican and broken English which made me really blush for her. One of them was saying in broken English which I could understand that he thought she must be very hairy between her legs, and he was very eager to see her without her panties on. So then they asked her if she would take them off herself, and she said that of course she would not and we would rather die than do anything to please them.
Sancho shook his head and guffawed, “I think, amigos, that the Senorita needs a little persuasion. Let her have it at once.”
They ripped off her panties then, and left her in just her garterbelt and stockings. Her hands were still tied behind her back, and now everybody could see her pussybush and those fine big titties. They had pinched her nipples so that they stood out and were very dark and stiff, and her face was red and her eyes were closed and who was breathing very hard. They pushed her out into the center of the room, and then one of the men pulled up a stool and sat down. He pulled her across his lap, took hold of both her tied wrists with his left hand, and laughing to his friends, began to spank her naked behind very hard.
I stood watching while two of the men held me by the elbows. They were whispering obscene things to me, and they were telling me that pretty soon I was going to be all naked for them and that they would spank me very hard if I wasn't a good girl and did just what they told me to. They said that they were going to spank Aunt Ella until she promised that she would do just what they wanted, no matter how grownup she thought she was.
I could see her grit her teeth and could see the muscles of her jaws tighten as she tried her best not to call out. The man was spanking her awfully hard. I could hear his hands smack down on her naked ass, and I could see the flesh flatten and then spring up, and get redder and redder. Soon the tears were running down her cheeks, and she was groaning softly, and trying to cross and uncross I er stockinged legs. But the man kept it up until soon her legs were kicking wildly in the air, and from where I was I could see the pink lips of her cunt and the thick hair framing it.
Then the man stopped and asked her, “Now then, Senorita, are you going to be a good bitch and obey us, or must I give you the belt?”
One of the other men came forward now and held out a black leather belt with a heavy silver buckle. The man on the chair who was spanking Aunt Ella took it, said “Gracias, amigo, and then showed it to Aunt Ella. She groaned aloud, “Oh my God, I can't stand any more, please don't whip me anymore, please!”
“That depends on you, Senorita! Now then, if you will do what I tell you to, perhaps I will not spank you anymore. Otherwise, I shall regrettably be forced to cause you a great deal of pain,” the man said in very good English.
“What — what do you want me to do, then?” she groaned.
“Why, it is very simple. You will get down on your knees, and I will open up my calecon and show you my cojones. Then you will take it into your mouth and suck and kiss it lovingly as if you were my esposa!” the man grinned.
“Oh no! I would rather die than do a filthy thing like that! Oh my God, Burt, please help me, try to make them stop — offer them money — oh my God, they gagged you, you can't help me!” she cried out. She tried to get up off the man's lap, but he held her down. His left arm went round her waist very tightly, and then he took the belt, doubled it, raised it slowly over her red ass, and brought it down with an awfully hard and loud Crack!
I could see Aunt Ella's body jump around, her hips swerving violently. Her legs kicked frantically in the air, and once again I could see her pink cunt gaping wide.
“You are still silent, so we must attend to this, Senorita,” the masked almost naked bandit chuckled. Once again he lifted the doubled belt, kept it in the air a minute, and then brought it down really hard and diagonally over Aunt Ella's reddened naked ass. She let out a howl, “Ahhouuuuu! Oh God, please stop, please!”
“But you know how to stop, I think, Senorita. Let's try it again.” Once more the belt rose, fell angrily with an even louder crack over the tops of Aunt Ella's squirming thighs.
This decided her. She dragged at her wrists, turned her tearstained face back to the man and sobbed out, “Oh God, no more, whatever you want, oh please, stop, stop, I'll do it!”
“That was what I was waiting to hear you say, muchacita.” He groaned. Then he shoved her off his lap and she fell onto the floor with a thud, knocking the breath out of her. Everybody laughed at this except of course Burt and me.
“Get up at once, on your knees, and come to me, querida!” the man in the chair ordered.
Sobbing, her face flooded with tears and very red and swollen, Aunt Ella obeyed.
“Since your hands are tied, I myself will do you the honor of showing you my cojones. But I think you know what to do then, non es ver-dad?” her tormentor laughed. He opened his shorts and his big heavy cock thrust out. The head was broad, and it looked almost purplish. Aunt Ella stared at it, and her lips were trembling. She seemed to shrink back, but the man picked up the belt and tossed it to one of the others and said, “If she does not do what I wish, Pedro, give it to her very hard.”
Aunt Ella turned her face around and cried out when she saw the-man lift the belt over her. Then she leaned forward and, closing her eyes, shuddering, opened her mouth and took his cock between her lips.
I watched fascinated. The fact was, I was beginning to get very itchy in my pussy. I don't know why, but being helpless in front of all these men, dressed so scantily the way they were, and in front of my own husband who was helpless, gave me a terribly randy feeling. I guess it's because all this spanking and punishment has taught me how to be randy for a strong man who wants to dominate me and make me his slavegirl.
I could hear Aunt Ella sucking at the man's cock, and everybody was laughing and making dirty remarks, and I tried not to look. But the man standing beside me whispered that I had better look because pretty soon it would be required of me to do the same thing.
Aunt Ella kept on sucking until the mart pushed her head away. Then he asked her to beg him for a good hard fucking, and he used that very word. When she hesitated, the man standing behind her, Pedro, took the belt and gave her two hard cuts across the tops of her legs, and Aunt Ella yelled out, “Oh please, don't whip me any more, please fuck me instead, please!”
“I shall be honored to accommodate you, Senorita,” her tormentor chuckled. “Very well, lie down on your back on the floor and get ready for me. Open your legs very wide because as you see, I have a big cock and it needs plenty of room.
So Aunt Ella got down on her back with her arms behind her back, her wrists still tied, and closed her eyes and waited. The man was in no hurry. He got down on his knees, and he began to fondle her titties with his hands while she groaned and twisted. It was obvious that she was feeling a lot of pain from the spanking and the belting, and the man enjoyed her wrigglings.
Then finally he got on top of her and began to fuck her. Aunt Ella kept her face turned to one side, her teeth ground together, her eyes shut as tight as she could. But the man worked over her very slowly. I could see his ass move as he shoved himself slowly home and then drew out. And after above five minutes of this, which made me wonder how much self control he could have after all the sucking she had done, Aunt Ella began to wriggle and gasp and groan and then to sob, “Oh I can't stand it, oh hurry, oh do it, anything, but just do it!”
“Well, well, amigos.” her ravisher lifted his head and said to all the men, “the linda Senorita is beginning to enjoy what she is getting from me. Very good. Perhaps the little one, the sweet little novia, will be as obliging when her turn comes.”
He meant me by that, I know. I was sort of horrified and yet fascinated. Aunt Ella was twisting her face this way and that, and she was wriggling on the floor there, and the man's cock was stuck just inside the lips of her pussy. He was teasing her, as Burt has often teased me that way, especially after giving my bottom a good hot spanking that had me so crazy for fucking I could hardly stand it.
Then suddenly he began to fuck her very hard and fast, and he stuck one of his fingers in her asshole, because she yelled out for him please to take his finger out of there, and everybody laughed. He put the other finger in her cunt, and he was working on her clit, and soon he had both fingers and his cock working on her altogether. Aunt Ella's head turned every which way. She began to groan and sob, and then finally she lost all control of herself and yelled out, “Oh hurry, I'm coming, oh make me come, oh fuck me, you big bastard, fuck me!”
And he did. He shoved himself back and forward so fast I could hardly keep count of the times he pushed into her. And all of a sudden she began to twist and jerk, and I knew that she had come.
Then he pulled out right away, and stood up, staggering to his feet. And before it was all over, Aunt Ella had been fucked by six of the bandits. She came almost every time, and she was shouting and groaning and sobbing, practically delirious. They had wakened her.
Then they lifted her up, her head dangling, her bubbies rising and falling, and they shoved her over into the corner of the room, and there was a metal peg hammered into the wall, and they tied her wrists to it so that she stood with her back to all of us. We could see how red her bottom was from the spanking and the belting.
Then the man guarding me shoved me to the center of the room, and Pedro sat down on the stool and told the man who had led me over to take off all my clothes except my panties and stockings. I had a garterbelt on too, just like Aunt Ella.
I started to cry a little, and I could hear Burt making sounds through his gag. I didn't turn my head to look at him, and I felt so ashamed.
When my clothes were ripped off, including my bra, two of the men came forward and began to cup and squeeze my bare bubbies. I kept my eyes closed and didn't say a thing, but one of them put his hand down between my legs and began to rub his finger against my cunt through my panties. I twisted and wriggled, because he had found the button of my clit, and then he was making loud noisy remarks about what a sexy little bitch I was — although he used different language, and it was sort of funny in half-Mexican and half-English — and then all of a sudden he pulled my panties off and left me in just my garterbelt and stockings.
He put his hands on my hips and stared at my cunt. Then he asked me, “Are you going to be a good girl, linda, or do I have to give you a good spanking first?”
I looked at Burt and his eyes were wild and straining, and he was trying to jerk at his bonds. I said, “That man is my husband and I won't do anything except with him. You can't force me.”
“I will try, at least, linda,” was the man's answer.
Suddenly he pulled me down over his lap, clamped his right leg over my calves, and then his left hand went feeling for my titties and squeezed it hard. I squealed because it hurt, and then I squealed again because his hand had come down hard on my bare behind. Then he began to spank me very fast and very hard. Pretty soon I was crying, trying to wriggle and twist myself off his lap, but I couldn't.
I knew that in all my movements, under the spanking, I was showing all the men who were watching my pussy. I also knew that my bottom must be awfully red. It was burning and very painful, and suddenly I began to feel awfully wet and sticky in my pussy. I knew what that meant. It meant that I was hot and randy and wanted to be fucked. But the thought that I had to do it with these horrible men, these bandits, in front of my own husband, made me feel awfully wicked and naughty.
When the man stopped, I think I had about fifty spanks, as hard as Mr. Douglas ever gave me, and I was really crying like a little child. He pushed me down off his lap and got me on my knees, and then he cupped my face between his hands and leaned forward to stare at me. “Are you going to be a good girl now, muchichita, and do what you are told?” he wanted to know.
“Yes, but please don't hurt me anymore, please!” I blubbered.
He laughed. Then he opened up his shorts and let his big long thick prick stick out, and then he told me that I was to suck and lick and kiss it. I waited just a minute, glancing back at Burt again, because my face was so red and I was so terribly ashamed. And then I yelled because a man standing behind me had used that black belt on my very sore behind.
It didn't take any more coaxing to get me to start Frenching that man on the stool. He made me stop after a few minutes, and then he asked me to beg him for a good fucking. I didn't want to, but two or three spanks with that awful belt made me yell out that I wanted to be fucked.
So two men held me down on my back, and this man who had spanked me got up and then got over me, and started to finger my pussy and find my clit till I was wriggling and twisting and I couldn't help myself.
He said to his friends that they should watch to see how hot I was, for a gringa. Then he got over me, put his prick inside my pussy, and started shoving it in up to his balls as he lay over me.
Before very long, to my great shame, I was bucking and twisting and wriggling just as I do when Burt fucks me. I felt so awfully ashamed, you just don't know, Dear Diary! I kept my eyes shut so I wouldn't see the man's leering face over me.
But before I knew it, my body was exploding and I was coming. And then I felt the man's hot jet burst into my pussy, and I almost fainted.
I guess I did, because when I came to, another man was on top of me working his prick slowly in and out of me. He had his finger up my bumhole, arid he was making me squirm again. Oh how ashamed I was to see Burt watching me, because I looked over at him, trying to apologize.
He was flooded with sweat, and he was yanking at his bonds. Four men fucked me before it was over. I mean, four after the two who had already done it. And every time I came. I guess I must be awfully hot, Dear Diary. But my bottom was burning so through all the fucking, that it sort of felt good to be fucked.
Then the man called Sancho, after I had had my share, suggested that it would be very nice if they could all watch how two gringos made love. So they brought Aunt Ella back from the corner, and they untied her wrists and they untied mine. And then they told her to lie down on her back, and I was to get over her in reverse. And soon I had to lick and suck her cunt while she did the same to me, because Miguel was standing over us with the belt and of course I being on top, got all the licks.
Then they complimented us and said that we had given them great pleasure and that they would wait to hear about the ransom. They took us back to the same room in which we had been locked up before, and gave us some food and a little tequila out of a bottle, and then locked us in for a few hours.
Aunt Ella told me how ashamed she was to think that she could be made to come by a man, and I told her that I couldn't help myself. She just laughed softly and said, “I know all about you, darling. Burt has a very lovely wife who will always service his needs. It's only a shame you had to do it in front of him.”
Well, believe it or not, Dear Diary, in spite of all the comes I had had while the men had fucked me, Aunt Ella's tongue and lips made me just about faint with pleasure, and I guess I did the same for her, because I heard shouts of laughter and some very nasty things said about both of us and how hot we were. Miguel said, “The Senor is a very lucky man, and it is very gracious of him to share his good fortune with us poor bandidos. Imagine, hombres, he has these two mujeres to fuck and to suck him whenever he wishes every night!”
All of a sudden there were gunshots outside, and the men in this hacienda got scared. They ran to the other rooms to get their clothes. In a minute, a tall black haired man with a mustache, wearing boots, white trousers and white linen coat, holding a rifle, came into the room followed by four very strong-looking Mexicans, all of whom had guns too.
The man came over to my husband and took out his gag and cut him loose, and then he said, “Cousin Burton, I had heard that these cursed dogs were in this province. My man Esteban rode up a few minutes ago and told me that he had seen men on horseback coming towards this deserted hacienda. I was sure that it must be you. Now then, hombres, you go drive the bandidos off!”
I heard some shots outside the house and yells in pain, and pretty soon the men came back and reported that they had driven the bandits away.
They had wounded two of them, Esteban said, a big, heavyset man in his late forties with a very thick shock of black hair and a little gray in it.
Anyway, Jaime Durado, for that was who it was, took Aunt Ella, Burt, and me to his ranch house, and there we were given hot baths by their maids, who were two elderly women and not very good looking.
But the bandits had left their two women, Conchita and Inez.
We had a very good dinner, with wine and brandy. When it was over, Burt's cousin invited him to see how we punish the women of bandits whom they had captured at that deserted hacienda.
We went down into the cellar, and Esteban and two other men were there, and they were holding the two handsome women in their low cut blouses and skirts, waiting for orders.
Jaime Durado ordered, “Strip them naked, tie them facing each other, tie them by the thumbs to the ceiling beam, and then whip them well until they provide us with a little amusement.”
Then he asked both Aunt Ella and me, “Con su permisso, Undo?” And then Burt said, “That means, he is asking for your permission.”

So I said of course I wanted to see them punished for what their men had done to us, and Aunt Ella said the same thing.
The two women were really very handsome. Conchita was about an inch taller than Inez, and she had a big bottom and titties, while Inez's bubbies were sort of pearshaped and she had a nice tight oval ass. The men tied them up by the thumbs and made them stand on their tiptoes, till their cunts and titties were rubbing together. Then Esteban took a quirt and stood behind Conchita, while a man called Jose, short and squat and very hairy, took his whip and stood behind Inez.
At a signal from Burt's cousin, the two men began to whip the naked women. Jaime called out, “Now then, you bitches, enjoy yourselves, have your pleasure. My men have instructions to whip you till the blood until you do.”
Pretty soon both women were grinding their cunts together, groaning and sobbing, glancing back over their shoulders as the whips fell with an angry clack over their bare bottoms. It left angry darkening stripes, and it drew cries and prayers for mercy.
But they had to keep up their cunt rubbing until both of them came.
Then Jaime Durado ordered that they both were to be buggered. His four men each in turn buggered the two women, who sobbed and moaned and squirmed, but I noticed that towards the end, both of them were rubbing pussies together and trying to come to relieve themselves of the pain of their swollen bottomholes.
Then Jaime Durado said, “Perhaps the ladies would enjoy a little revenge.” Burt looked at Aunt Ella and said, “I should like very much to see you take Conchita, while my beloved wife enjoys herself with Inez.”
So one of the men took Conchita after she had been cut down from her bonds and marched her naked as she was and sobbing from her whipping and her buggering off to a bedroom with Aunt Ella following, and the other man led Inez to another room where I went. Burt said to me, “Now then, darling, I'm going to leave you by yourself with Inez. Give her all the spanking you want, and make her do what you want. When you've finished with her, I'll come to you tonight myself.”
Imagine, Dear Diary, a girl of just eighteen and a few weeks having been fucked all those times by those bandits and then having to love up Aunt Ella in front of them, and now being given a girlslave all to myself with the prospect of my husband expecting me to make love to him when that was over!
There was a hairbrush on the dresser in the room, and I picked it up and I told Inez to take off all my clothes and get me ready to love her. I gave her two or three cracks over her striped behind with the brush, and it was amazing how quickly she obeyed.
When I was all naked except for my stockings and garterbelt, I got on to the bed, raised my knees up and spread them widely, and then I told her to come lap and kiss and lick my pussy.

She obeyed very quickly, and she was trying to please me, that was very evident.
She was just about getting me to the point of coming when all of a sudden the door opened and there came Burt. He was naked, and his prick was ever so big and hard.

He got onto the bed and told Inez not to move. And then he grabbed hold of her by the hips, shoved his cock into her pussy, and began to fuck her. He told her to go on licking me while he was doing it.
She groaned and squirmed a lot, and I think she came. But she certainly made me come again!
When it was over, he pulled out, and then he fell on me and shoved himself into me and worked off his juices.
I was so excited by all this that I came for I don't know the number of times! For when we fell asleep together, with Inez lying between us and kissing him and fondling him and me, Burt said to me that he was very delighted with the passionate little wife he had married.

Well, Dear Diary, it turned out to be a little game. The “bandits” all worked for Cousin Jaime, and Burt had arranged it with his cousin to have this done so Aunt Ella and I could really give them a workout and get even closer together. Last night, Burt made me watch while he fucked Aunt Ella after first taking her over his lap and spanking her. All she put on was a low blouse, and some stockings and a garterbelt, and it got me terribly randy to see that grownup woman kicking her legs and squealing and begging her nephew not to spank her so hard and promising that she would do just everything for him.
She had to kneel down and lick his cock and get him ready to fuck me, and then she had to lie on the bed beside us and frig us both and kiss us as we were fucking. It was just wonderful!
Well, we got back to Fresno last week, and I found that Mon and Mr. Douglas are very happy together. Sandy has already been introduced to a young man by the name of Lester Brundage, a fellow of about twenty-eight, who has a very good job as a salesmanager for a big electronics firm on the edge of West Fresno. It turns out that Lester likes to play spanking games with his girlslaves, as he calls them, and he is just crazy about Sandy and is going to marry her. And wonder of wonders, Sandy herself has learned to enjoy a spanking by a man when he fucks her later. Oh yes, I forgot to say, the two of them are engaged with Mr. Douglas' blessing, and he has even allowed Sandy to go to bed with Lester because he trusts Lester and thinks he will discipline Sandy the way she needs.
So I guess, Dear Diary, that all I'll be writing in you from now on is some stories about how my sister and I have learned that when a girl is spanked on her bare seat by a man whom she loves and he loves her, it adds to the excitement of going to bed together and fucking.

The End.