Jake Collins thought to himself, that daughter of mine is becoming one hot little number. He definitely didn’t mean that in a flattering manner.

He was referring to fifteen-year-old Ellen, who wasn’t so little. When she had entered a public high school in Manhattan the previous September, she had been on the tall side at five-foot-eight. She had dark hair, pale skin, steel-rimmed glasses, and, most noticeably, she was quite heavyset.

After starting school that fall, she had radically changed her appearance. Previously, she usually wore blue jeans, some kind of non-descript top, and very ordinary brown shoes or sometimes sandals in warmer weather.

During her freshman year, starting in the fall of 1979, Ellen had become obsessed with the New York “punk” scene, and she tried to emulate the female version of that subculture as she understood it.

Patti Smith was her idol and she wanted to hang out at CBGB’s or The Mudd Club, but she was too young to get into such places. In any case, despite her fantasies, she had no musical talent to be a performer in those venues.

By the following spring, she had cut her brown hair shorter so that it only reached her chin. Also, she had dyed it black. Just for variety, she also tried out bright red.

She also took to wearing rather heavy makeup, including vivid lipstick of red, blue, purple, or even black. Her face also had a lot of eyeliner and eye shade on her lids. The latter was usually a garish blue or green

To get her clothes for this, she bought or used whatever pieces she imagined would be right for a punk girl, as she thought of herself at that point. By the spring of 1980, she had worked out a wardrobe to obtain the look that she desired.

To do this, she would start with a tube top, halter top, or blouse with straps. If the weather was cooler, she would have a tee-shirt over those items. For the next layer, she had a button-down shirt that was usually left hanging open. That might be denim, plaid, or of some other design.

At times she experimented with not wearing a bra. Her large breasts drooped heavily and the lack of support for her bosom was quite noticeable. Bras are a symbol of male oppression and are not suitable for a rebellious woman like me. During the winter, she still wore the red-checked coat she had owned for a while. Replacing it was beyond her budget.

On her lower body, Ellen would have a skirt, a bit loose but often on the short side ending above her knees. These could be of cotton (say, black with white dots), blue or gray denim, or for an “ironic” look, a plaid schoolgirl’s garment.

Her footgear and stockings were also important for her get-up. She favored knee socks or thigh-highs of cotton or wool. Sometimes she had fishnet stockings. Occasionally she wore regular panty-hose or white or green tights during the winter.

Jake wondered if she still wore panties. In fact, she did, although she was replacing her white ones with black. Once in a while, she would have pink underpants which showed through her pantyhose. When doing that, she occasionally flashed herself so that some hapless nerdy young guy could see the pink showing through the nylon.

No matter what the weather, she usually wore boots. There were three pairs that she owned: gray leather ones, brown snow boots, and black ankle boots. She hoped to get more of them eventually. If she wanted to be comfortable on a certain day, she had black Converse high-top sneakers.

After all of that effort going into her clothes and makeup, Ellen no longer believed she had the same plain Jane image as before. Now, despite the chunkiness she had retained, she considered herself to be a “sexy chick;” all she needed to complete that was to obtain her first boyfriend.

Occasionally she would buy Quaaludes, which she would share with the boyfriend she later landed. Mostly she was short on cash, so a nickel-bag of weed or even a six-pack of beer would have to do.

To get money for her recreational substances, her clothes, and an occasional record album, Ellen worked after school in various clothing stores and bookshops downtown that would accept her faux-rebellious appearance.

For two weeks she held a position at Burger King, which required her to forgo most of her extreme makeup. However, she hated her ugly brown and yellow uniform, the shapeless blob of her hat, and especially the “stink of Whopper” on her hands when she was assigned to the kitchen.

She even resented the attention that the prettier, thinner girls behind the counter got from male customers.

Ellen thought she was cultivating a “hip” reputation at her school, which was partially true. Certain other students secretly scorned her because of her weight and her pretensions to be someone she was not. A fat punk, was what they would say behind her back.

Regardless, she enjoyed the new image she projected and she sashayed around while thinking that people admired her.

Jake was fifty-nine in that spring of 1980, and Ellen was his only child from his second marriage. He had grown up in Louisville, KY, and in his teens, he had moved in with some relatives in a town in West Virginia.

Much of his family had been employed by the Chesapeake and Ohio Railway, and his childhood home was the western terminus of that system. His new town had a major repair depot for cars and locomotives. Jake had obtained a job there as a car inspector and mechanic.

He was drafted into the Army in 1942, and spent his stint in the military maintaining vehicles at Fort Meade, MD. There was no shame in remaining stateside for the duration. It was understood that one did one’s bit in the service wherever Uncle Sam decided to station you.

Upon his return to West Virginia, he married a local girl and had two sons in the late 1940’s. All seemed to be going well until his wife died prematurely from cancer in 1961.

Jake took it pretty hard and left his two sons in the care of family members while he roamed around the country for more than a year. Eventually, he met Norma, a younger woman from Pennsylvania who was extremely excited by the idea of living in New York City.

By 1965, even though Jake thought of himself as a “country boy” and was skeptical of the East Coast, he had conceded to his new wife’s wishes.

It was hardly a glamorous life as they eventually become superintendents of several buildings on a modest block in the Gramercy Park neighborhood of Manhattan. Those included three old walk-up apartment houses and about a half-dozen row houses left over from the 19th Century.

Ellen was born that year and the family settled into a first-floor apartment in one of the large buildings. She was the only child he’d ever have with Norma.

At first, she seemed like a well-behaved girl. But when she entered high school Jake couldn’t help but be aware of her blooming sexuality and her new punk appearance. He suspected that her style was a manifestation of her nubility but in his opinion she seemed unable to deal with it properly.

Ellen’s narrow bedroom was at the opposite end of the apartment from the room Jake shared with Norma. He would go to bed early, around 10:00 PM.

Sometimes when he got up later to go to the bathroom, he would hear Ellen masturbating in her bed. He couldn’t see what she was doing – there was a sliding plastic door over the room’s entrance – but he could plainly hear her moans and yips of pleasure as she worked on herself.

A couple of times he lingered in the adjacent kitchen with the light off until she obviously had achieved her orgasm. She wasn’t quiet about it as her voice reached a peak of intensity.

Jake thought it was indecent for young girls to fondle themselves, especially as avidly as Ellen liked to do it. With guys it was inevitable; there was no way for them to avoid jerking off. Females, however, had to be modest at all times, even when they were alone.

At times he considered going into her room, surprising her in the act, and then administering a sound spanking on her broad behind as she lay over his knees. Maybe a hairbrush is the best choice to tan the hide of a sassy strumpet like her. Some strict beatings should cure her habit of rubbing her own private parts.

He didn’t realize it because he couldn’t see it, but often she would insert some object like her hairbrush handle, a carrot, or even a cucumber into her vagina.

There was one punishment he did inflict on her occasionally when she was out too late or even didn’t return home at all. He would have her kneel on the bed with her bare buttocks in the air while he whacked her bottom with a wooden yardstick.

It was during these sessions that he noticed that her hairy genitals became wet with fluid dripping out of her body. He knew that was a sign of sexual arousal, yet he never commented on it. It did make him even angrier, however. She’s not merely badly behaved, she’s a deviant too.

He didn’t quite grasp that the yardstick whackings were part of a feedback loop that motivated her to masturbate even more frequently.

He decided for the sake of familial peace to forgo interrupting her nightly bouts of self-pleasure and then disciplining her even more severely for that. However, he thought about it often. If she acts like that in her own bed, she’s obviously turning into a slut. I’m really going to have to keep an eye on her.

He used to worry that Ellen wasn’t attractive enough to attract suitable husband material. Now, with her new wild-looking guise, his concerns were going in the opposite direction. She’s going to meet some guy who will know that these so-called punk girls are all easy lays, and he’ll bang her at the first opportunity.

Sure enough, in the spring of 1980, such a guy did show up in her life. He was not from her school, however. Chris Trocco lived in The Bronx, and he attended a specialized high school up there.

He had dark unkempt dark hair and an olive complexion. He was also a senior, and he was nearing his eighteenth birthday. Ellen had met him at a party one of her classmates had hosted. Jake was never offered an explanation of who had invited him from such a distance.

He’s really thin, about half her weight. What does he see in a big girl like Ellen? To Jake, the answer was obvious. She must be giving him some poontang to lure him in and then keep him in place. He assumed that chunky girls were the only ones a physically unimpressive guy like Chris could get.

Ellen was very pleased to land this new, older boyfriend. She would show him off to her school friends when he was downtown. Some of them were amused, again secretly, to see the mismatch in their weights. They had opinions analogous to those her father had. He must really be thirsty for some pussy, and fat girl pussy is all he can get.

Chris was polite to Jake and Norma and was sometimes invited to dinner with them. Jake didn’t trust him anyway. That skinny little twerp has probably been boning slutty Ellen for a while now.

If fact, that was exactly what was happening. Ellen had access to the superintendent’s keys, and she had made copies of some of them. For her and Chris, their favorite trysting place was in the semi-finished basement of an apartment building up the street. Jake had his workshop down there, plus he had an expanding model railroad layout in one of the rooms.

Also, sometimes tenants of the various apartments would have Ellen come in during the day to feed their cats or water their plants. That gave the new couple some further places for privacy. A few tenants would be gone overnight, and Ellen would sneak her lover into such apartments and they would stay in the place until morning.

Having Chris leave the next day was tricky because he had to get out of the building without being noticed by her parents. Ellen would check the street first, and then shoo him off.

Once her father was standing in the areaway of a building down the street, and she went over to distract him for a few minutes. Chris went out and left the block as quickly as he could without running.

Their sex life progressed as it usually did with teenagers. Both of them were virgins, and they delighted in trying out various acts and positions they had heard about.

They started with make-out sessions and then moved on to feeling each other under their clothes. It was the old “heavy petting” concept and they learned how to give each other orgasms with their hands.

Chris would take his cock out to be stroked by her; she was impressed by the sight of his thick cum shooting up and out. In turn he got his hand into her panties and fondled her vulva until she reached her noisy climax. A little later she used frottage to get Chris to come, rubbing her bare thigh against Chris’s cock until he ejaculated all over her pale skin.

That was soon followed by oral sex, each of them taking turns on the other. It took some practice for them to get the hang of that, but they had the time and energy for it. (A true “sixty-nine” was hard to coordinate.) Handjobs (or “finger-fucking” on Ellen) remained in the sexual mix.

That satisfied them for a while, although they were cautious about an unwanted pregnancy. It was Chris who suggested “Greek Style.” She was willing to try anal if he lubed up properly. That act didn’t do much for her pleasure, although it didn’t hurt either,

Chris definitely enjoyed her tightness, although he only went about halfway in. He promised to finger her clitoris at the same time so she would feel something too, but he usually forgot what he was supposed to do. Yet Ellen did like the feeling of his hot cum spurting up into her body.

Then came vaginal sex with condoms. Chris was so diffident that he had a difficult time buying them. Formerly, one had to use the time-honored method of asking a pharmacist for them, a classic for earlier sexual comedy.

By that time, condoms were starting to appear on store shelves, but one still had to present them to a sales clerk. Rather amusingly, he usually bought several other items in the hopes that she (it was usually a female) wouldn’t notice. Chris was more than a bit self-conscious, and he couldn’t believe that store personnel really didn’t care what he was purchasing.

Once, Chris pulled out and left a condom behind in Ellen’s vagina. That gave them both a scare, although nothing unfortunate resulted from that incident.

In terms of sensations, condoms were only moderately successful for both of them. Ellen was too young to procure birth control for herself, but she thought that a cervical cap, not the Pill, might be the best way to go. She hoped that one of her school friends would come up with a way to wangle the deal for her.

It was near the end of May when the situation went sour for the young couple.

Jake had some idea of what they were doing, especially when he saw them sneaking around the block. As careful as they were about not getting caught, he still saw them at times going into or coming out of some building where he didn’t expect them to be.

One time was when they came up the metal stairs from the basement of the workshop building. Ellen told an obvious lie that Chris was “helping with the laundry” that went into a machine in one of the rooms.

Jake looked forward to the day when he would catch them in flagrante delicto in some sex act. He suspected that he would bang her in her room at night – they were sometimes sitting on her bed when he retired for the evening.

Yet it seemed most likely that he could surprise them in that basement, and thus he made extra “patrols” through there in the hope of surprising them in the act.

Wherever he did catch them, he knew that was the moment to tan both their naughty hides with some sound corporal punishment – a “good ass-whumping” as he thought of it from his earlier life.

Then he would ban Chris from the premises entirely. He couldn’t control everywhere that Ellen went, but perhaps some further “maintenance spankings” would teach her to keep her legs closed and to concentrate on her schoolwork.

To prepare for that eventually, he gathered some punishment implements in his basement. For Ellen, he collected some birch rods and had them sitting in a bucket of briny water. Using one of those on her big pale bottom should make the impression he wished to convey.

Jake had suffered the same kind of discipline from his own parents years earlier. He knew that a single branch would leave thin vivid stripes across her body.

Later, for her maintenance spankings, he planned to spank her as she lay over his knees. He had big hands, and he knew that a solid whacking would make her ass cheeks bounce wonderfully.

If that didn’t work the first time, then perhaps he’d up the ante by using a big wooden brush to further motivate her. He hoped that he could encourage her to dress like a normal young lady and give up her new strumpet-like outfits. That shameless twat should at least start wearing a bra again.

For her outer-borough Romeo, he had a different fate in mind. He assumed that Chris would be too intimidated to run away if he ever got caught. Besides, he wouldn’t want to appear as a coward to his girlfriend (or his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend, if Jake had any control over the matter).

For that skinny little bastard, Jake would use a wooden paddle with holes drilled into it. Instead of giving him a lighter punishment first, he’d start with his “school smacks” tool, as he called it.

Unlike the more merciful technique still used in the states that allowed such discipline, Jake wouldn’t smack Chris on the seat of his trousers. He would have to take it like a man on his bare rear end even if the pain and bruising were more severe.

Let him troll at his own school for pussy if he wanted to get some of that. Although, the girls at that place are probably too stuck-up to put up with a loser nerd like him. Thus he had come downtown to exploit lonely chubby girls who would do anything for some boyfriend action.

Chris is going to change his mind about fooling around with Ellen if I can do anything about it, that was for sure. Jake liked the Biblical encouragement of spanking wayward children because to him that was what Chris and Ellen still were. Foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child; the rod of correction will drive it far from him. (Proverbs 22:15).

There was another verse he liked. Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you strike him with a rod, he will not die. If you strike him with the rod, you will save his soul from Sheol. (Proverbs 23:13-14). Yes, those old Hebrews knew that the backsides of misbehaving brats were there to receive encouragement to go back to a straight path.

Finally, Jake did catch them right in the middle of what he considered to be an egregious act. He walked into his basement living room, and there was Ellen giving a blowjob to Chris as she knelt on the carpet.

For a moment, they didn’t notice his presence, and that gave him time to take in all of the details. Ellen had her blouse pulled up, and her big breasts hung down. She was wearing a denim skirt, but her panties were on the floor next to the happy couple.

Chris’s jeans and underpants were down around his knees as he stood there. She held his cock with her right hand while her left one stroked his buttocks. He moaned and gyrated his hips as she sucked on this cock, and he ran his fingers through her dark hair.

He wasn’t immune to some trendiness himself. In his last moments of pleasure, Chris thought, I must be pretty punk myself if I have a hot girl like this blowing me.

At the same moment, Jake thought, I wonder how long it will be until he ejaculates into her mouth?

He never found out because Ellen saw him out of the corner of her eyes. She pulled back and cried out, “Oh my God!” She then hastened to pull her outer shirt closed. Meanwhile, Chris’s cock had fallen out of her mouth.

Her dad almost chuckled. Oh my God, indeed!

Chris was standing there with his stiff dick pointing out into the air. He was too flummoxed to say anything, but Ellen stood up and started apologizing. “Oh, Daddy, I’m so sorry...”

Jake remained rather calm. He knew he had them where he wanted them and that he controlled the situation. “Yes, young lady, you are going to be very sorry indeed. How does his dick taste in your mouth? And you too, you horny little rascal, you’re also in big trouble. Now I want you both to stand there while I show you what’s going to happen.”

Even Jake was a bit surprised that the two of them didn’t run past him and make a break for the hallway to the outside. I probably shocked them into compliance, which was hardly surprising. Chris started to pull his pants back up. He’s going to be taking them down again, soon enough.

He went to retrieve one of the birch rods from the bucket. Then he swished it through the air so that they could both see and hear it. The naughty pair stood there looking confused. Jake saw that she didn’t have a bra on that day, and her big breasts hung low within her skimpy top.

“Now, my young missy, do you know what this is for?”

Ellen could guess, but she said, “Daddy, I just don’t know.”

“I think you’re fibbing. In any case, it’s a birch rod. And I’m going to whip your bare backside with it. Your boyfriend can wait in the hallway where he can hear but not see it all.”

“Don’t hit me with that, Daddy, please. I said I was so, so sorry.”

Jake ignored her. “As you can see, I’ve got a whole bucket of them. They tend to break when applied to the rear ends of bad girls like you. Thus, I have a stockpile in reserve.”

Then he went to the side table to get the paddle that had been lying there for a few weeks, ready to be employed at a moment’s notice. As he gestured towards Chris with his implement, he said “So, mister, you know what this is for?”

“Yes sir, it’s a paddle, sir.” He hoped by being extra polite he might get out of his jam.

“Damn right, it’s a paddle. Now, when she’s doing her corner time in there...” He pointed to the room that contained his model train layout. “She can listen to you getting hard ‘school smacks’ on your bare bottom.”

“Daddy, please don’t punish us like this.”

Jake continued to address Chris. “After your paddling, I think you will be so bruised that you won’t be able to sit down for the rest of the week. Unlike what happens to bad boys in schools, you’ll be getting those on your bare ass, not on the seat of your trousers.”

“Daddy, this is just so unfair!”

“The reason for all this is that you two have been acting like dogs in heat.”

He gestured at Chris again. “In fact, you little shit, when I’m done with you, you are going to walk out of this building and then I don’t what to see you on this block ever again. If I catch you around here, I’m really going to kick your ass.”

Chris knew that meant getting hit in the face and probably on his body. “Sir, I’m truly sorry too.”

“As I said, you two don’t know what sorry really is yet. All right, let’s get to it already. Now, get out and stand in the hallway until I have you come back in. And you, little girl, just leave your drawers on the floor. You won’t be needing them for a while.”

They were not a pair of her new black ones, but an older white pair decorated with strawberries, of all things. Hah, at least they’re not cherries. She must have lost that a while ago.