by Sarah Sloan

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft, Coercion, True Story, Spanking, Rough, Masturbation, .

Desc: BDSM Sex Story: This story is based on a brief description in a first year university phsycology text on the development of obsession, in this case spanking. Includes the severe use of strap and stick on girl, aged 16 and two boys aged 14 who mastrubate carelessly.

This story is based on an account described in a chapter on obsessions in a first year university psychology text book. The date of the recorded events is not known but that edition of the book was printed in 1958. It describes how a couple of weeks of traumatic experiences influenced one of the participants in the long term.

The role of the housekeeper (the children called her Mrs D for short) and the punishments dealt out to the three children are closely based on the academic account given in the text book. The story follows events over the 8 months that Mrs D was left in charge of the house and kids, Wendy aged 16, brother Mark and visiting family friend Trevor. The two boys, both 14, had been great mates for a couple of years. They were both in 3rdform at school. Wendy was in 5th form at a girl's high school. Not knowing the real dates the story has been set around 1955 but it all could have happened 20 years earlier.

Trevor tells the story

How it all started

Just to get one thing straight. I remember this stuff, some of it word for word, because it was the most traumatic happening of my whole life. The after effects have gone on for ever.

My parents and Mark's mum and dad all migrated to Australia in 1948. They met somehow after we had all settled in the same suburb of Adelaide, about 15 minutes walk from each other. The two families became close friends. Mark's parents had more money than we did, a really big house and garden and had a cleaning woman two days a week.

It must have been about 1953 that our parents first talked about visiting 'home'. What to do with us kids for 6 months or more was of course a problem. A one way trip to Europe in those days took 6 weeks by ship. Neither family had relatives in Australia that we could have stayed with.

The answer to the problem came with the employment of a new cleaning lady, Mrs D, as we were told to call her. She was married but the man walked out on her. She then lived with her sister's family. My parents were most impressed that Mrs D had completed a domestic science and family management course for nannies at some college. We all liked her and apparently she was really good at cleaning, washing, baking and other stuff. I don't know why she didn't have a full time job but she continued as a cleaner at Mark's place.

One day both our parents got us all together, a Sunday morning I remember. What did we think of having Mrs D move in for a few months to look after us three while they did their Europe trips. I would share Mark's room. It was obvious that mum and dad were aching for all of us to say yes. I later thought they could have handled that a lot better. Anyway, they were in luck and we all said OK. It would be a sort of adventure. Next February they got on their big ocean liner with return tickets for October.

The trip preparation was quite calm and methodical. In January Mrs D moved in full time. Everything worked well. On the second last day before departure there was a big lunch and later a serious talk from both lots of parents. We were told quite unnecessarily to be GOOD, to write a letter every month, to do our school work, help around the house, tidy our rooms, be well behaved, etc etc blah blah blah.

Then the bombshell. In front of everyone mum turned to Mrs D and said "If Trevor is any trouble at all don't hesitate to use the biggest wooden spoon you can find. Don't stop till he has really learnt the lesson and won't do it again. It's a long time since he's got a spanking from me so a refresher might be needed."Mark's mum said much the same ending with "and that goes for you too, my girl."Mrs D took it in her stride. "Not to worry" she said, "I'm sure they will be good but if not then a wooden spoon will help. I also have a little strap that can make a big impression. We had a couple of lectures on discipline in my course so I know how to handle problems. Do you want to see if you think the strap is OK?" Mum said no need. They still had lots to do.

We all went to the wharf to see them off. Pies and ice creams for a last lunch. Mum again went over all the things I should and should not do, ending with "be good or else." We all got bored for 2 hours waiting for the ship to leave. On the way home everyone had a great feeling of excitement and adventure.

Mrs D in charge

For more than 2 months everything went well. Mrs D, she was more like a bigger sister. We had nice food, went to the football, picnics, the pictures and us kids worked well enough to hardly ever get any complaints. There was no thought of getting into real trouble.

I must say that I did find it very interesting to be in the same house as Wendy. In those days boys knew nothing about girls except that they had breasts and a bum of different sizes. My knowledge of sex and how girls looked came from schoolyard talk. Mark didn't know any more either.

Mrs D did lay down the rules right at the start. We thought that she was reasonable and fair. The three of us got an occasional slap on the bottom. Then one night, for no reason we could work out, she made it clear that a wooden spoon or her strap were going to be used if there was ever a need. She was so different in those few minutes.

To make sure we understood she got her strap out and made each of us hold it. It scared me. The leather was only a bit over a foot long, shorter than the ones used at school but thicker and was hard and heavy. She told us with a grin "it curls around your bottom and leaves a fiery stripe and inch and a half wide". She explained that the leather was attached to the wooden handle so she could whip it down and make it really hurt. We got a demo, Mrs D swung her arm behind her back and whacked the kitchen table. The noise on the hard wooden top was terrifying. We were pretty shocked. After that though, things were as before and there was no more mention of the spoon or strap.

Mark and I

Mark and I got on really well, just as expected. We also discovered we had something in common that had not ever been mentioned. We were both great masturbators, like maybe the world's best. When on my back on top of the bed I once hit the wall above my head. I thought Mark's cock was a bit bigger than mine but he couldn't spurt as far. After just a couple of weeks we were doing it together, we had distance competitions and were sharing our very ignorant fantasies about naked girls and breasts and so on.

I had always been sensible enough to clean up and never had much concern about mum or now Mrs D knowing about it. From Mark I learnt a better method. At the last moment he'd put a sock over the tip of his prick and caught it all perfectly. I immediately did the same. So, in our room after bedtime we would share a fantasy and be writhing in pleasure with a sock at the ready. This infatuation helped lead us into disaster.

Wendy strapped

On Thursdays school classes finished 40 minutes early for sports practice. Mark was good at football but ball games were not for me. Kids like me could easily nick off but I always waited for Mark. We were allowed to get home late on Thursdays.

This particular Thursday was the last one before the winter holidays. It was that day on which all the trouble started. I had had a run in with two of our year level bullies. Really minor, school boy posturing stuff. I did not give in but they had older brothers so I decided to go home early. Tomorrow was only a half day and wouldn't be a problem. Those sort of kids usually didn't turn up at all on the last day. By next term it would have blown over. So I hopped on my bike and sped off.

Behind Mark's house was a park with a gate in our back fence. I left my bike there and headed for the kitchen. As I opened the back door I heard Mrs D shouting angrily and Wendy's voice whimpering in reply. I froze in the doorway. "How dare you, how dare you. Yesterday you lied to me, at least twice. Today your head mistress sends a letter about you cheating and on top of that you were disgustingly rude to the prefect who caught you. I have to sign that thing and reply tomorrow. She wants me to punish you and that's just what I'm going to do, right now". Murmurings like, "Please no, not my fault..." from Wendy.

I could tell they were in the lounge room. "Stop stalling. Pull your skirt and petty coat up, go on, higher, quick. Lie yourself over the piano stool, head right down, do it or I'll give you extra. If you're not quick the boys will be home and hear you get it." Wailing from Wendy. Then "Six for lying and six for that letter. Right, pull your panties up high, high and tight." A teary begging that I could only half hear but she must have done it. "Right, let's get started."

I couldn't help it, I put my bag down in the doorway and very carefully sneaked closer. I really wanted to rub my stiffening cock. All the doors were open. Whack, Mrs D,"One" then whack again, "One". "Oh no, please no, it hurts, no please" and so on from Wendy. I just had to look. A quick glance past the open door. Wendy was bent over the stool alright. Head towards me, down near the floor. Her skirt and hair over her face. Mrs D had her back to me, standing level with Wendy's head, facing towards her bun and legs. The strap was ready, up behind her back. Whack, "Two" and whack again, "Two." Loud howls and now sobbing. How come the count was 1-1 and 2-2.

.... There is more of this story ...

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Story tagged with:
mt/ft / Coercion / True Story / Spanking / Rough / Masturbation /