Virgin 16



 
Virgin 16:
Spanking Stories
2007-11-29
From an10176@anon.nymserver.com Sat Apr 05 19:07:48 1997



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From: Plainman



Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories



Subject: {Plainman} New Story: VIRGIN, 16 (mf, spank teen, inc?)



Date: 5 Apr 1997 23:07:48 GMT



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This story has explicit sexual content, and shouldn't be read by minors.



































Virgin, 16







by Plainman







Princess: Judy honey? Sometimes I wonder if you really



know what it's like to be me.







Judy: Oh I'm sure I don't know THAT, Princess - but I do



know you pretty well - probably better than anyone else does.







Princess: So - tell me a story about me.







Judy: Hmmm - I can't tell stories as well as you do,



Princess - I don't have your words...







Princess: It's not a competition.







Judy: Ok - I've always thought I sort of understood your



masochist thing, even if I don't go that way myself - let me



try something on that - let's see... So, this is it - you are



speaking - you are sixteen...







*************







The boy was very sweet, a little geeky, but smart and



funny. We worked on the school paper together, and we had a



nice friendship, based on both of us being out-of-it



intellectual types. Finally he asked me out. I had my



girlfriend Judy, but of course that was a big secret - and she



had a boyfriend, and I wanted one too, and not JUST for the



status.







I had been lusting from afar after another guy, a dark,



muscular, inconsiderate boy in the vocational program at



school, who was known to have slept with half the bad girls in



my class. But of course that one paid no attention to me. If he



had by some miracle asked me out, he would have assumed I



wanted to be another notch on his gun, and I would have been



offended and pushed him away when he closed in - and he would



have wondered, probably would have said, who did I think I was.



It had been that way once before - I had rejected the president



of the debate club, an inferior substitute for my fantasy man,



when on our first date, swelling with entitlement, he had tried



to put his hands all over me.







This boy, my date tonight - he wouldn't have done anything



if I hadn't slipped my hand into his in the movie. But that had



emboldened him, and afterwards he had driven us to a parking



spot, and we had taken off our glasses and kissed and kissed.



After we'd kissed long enough that our lips were bruised and



our tongues were getting tired, I sort of slipped my body down



some and that got him to lie halfway across me in the front



seat. Pretty soon he was pressing one leg between mine, and



when I felt his hardness through his jeans against my thigh I



didn't move away.







He rubbed against me, and finally he cupped a



hand around one of my breasts through my blouse. When he



squeezed it gently, I wanted to feel more, so I unfastened my



top two buttons and invited him inside. Now his fingers crept



down under my bra and touched a bare nipple, and I felt kind of



an electric connection to my lower belly, more intense from



this strange hand than when I touched myself in bed at night,



and different too from Judy's hand when she touched me there,



more foreign somehow, him being a boy.







Now I really wanted him up against me between my legs, and



so I slid further under him, rubbing back against him, my legs



around his thigh. After what seemed only a few seconds of this



he made a couple of hard thrusts, stiffened, groaned, and then



slumped and said he was sorry. I said it was OK, I liked him,



he was nice, he shouldn't worry. But he was embarrassed and



wouldn't really look right at me any more, and pretty soon he



did drive me home - it was past time. I leaned over and kissed



him before I left the car, but he was all stiff and awkward,



and seemed to want me to leave.







It was later than I'd told my mother I'd be home, but she



didn't say anything about that when I came in. She called from



her bedroom and asked me if the date had been nice, and I said



it had been, and she said "that's nice, dear." She had told me



a couple months before that it would be OK with her if I



started on birth control pills - "You know, sweetie, you're



getting to an age when..." I had blushed and said "Oh Mom, I



don't do anything like that!" and we hadn't spoken of it



further.







And of course that was a lot more than I had said to my



Dad on the subject, or he to me. When I visited him on



weekends, he always seemed a funny mixture of glad and



surprised to see me, looking up out of his books and papers



with his sweet smile, and then kidding with me, and talking



with me about ideas and current events like an adult when we



went to dinner together. If ever I asked him for something, he



said "of course, Princess," and joked about the diamond tiara I



would be getting for my next birthday. But really he DID do



practically anything I asked him to do for me, so I was careful



not to ask for very much, except in our little jokes about the



tiara and all.







I stopped to kiss Mom good night in her bed, and then went



to my room and undressed and put on my long t-shirt with no



panties, and got into bed and turned out the light. My body was



still tingling - my nipples were erect, little separate centers



of pleasure and agitation. I thought about Judy telling me how



her boyfriend had made her come by touching between her legs,



slipping his fingers under the elastic of her panties and



feeling her wetness and making her clitty hot and hard by



swirling the moisture around it, and how in return she had



opened his pants and taken his hard erection out through the



gap in his underpants, and licked her hand to moisten it, and



stroked him, and made him come.







I pictured how she must have been, with her legs apart and skirt up,



her head thrown back, and mouth wide open in passion and moaning like she



does. And then her little hand on his big hard jutting cock, sliding it up



and down - the way I had seen my brother do it, watching him through the



bathroom keyhole. I remembered the shocking look of the big awkward



appendage, and the sudden amazing eruption of the white stuff, a long



spurt, and then several successively shorter ones. I pictured it on my



hand and some of it on my face and in my hair. It seemed kind of gross



-and kind of exciting.







That had me pretty hot, and I buried my head between two



pillows and concentrated on my favorite fantasy, the one that



always finished me off. I was with the bad boy on the couch in



a dark living room, and he was demanding and rough and



aggressive with me, and I loved it, and said dirty words to



him, and he grunted and thrust into me, his hairy hard-muscled



body crushing me into the old couch. And then I was caught by



my strict old-fashioned parents, and I knew what I had coming



to me, and it happened just like that, in front of a bunch of



people...







As the painful, humiliating, sexy images ran through my



mind, I played with my nipples, and then I turned on on my



stomach and put both hands between my legs. The sheets were off



my bare bottom and I imagined this stern older man looking down



at me, holding the strap in his hand. I felt my wetness through



the mat of hair, and I brought the moisture around my clit,



swirling it with two fingers of one hand while with the other



one I played with my outer lips and the little smooth spot of



flesh behind my opening. I felt the heat and tension gather and



intensify, then I hunched and clenched against my fingers, and



it exploded, and spread out all through my body, to the tips of



my ears and my toes, and I heard my own little groan coming as



if from someone else.







I left my hands there as I felt my muscles let go, and I



sank down into the warmth and darkness. Darkness...











Now I was coming home from a date, walking out of the



darkness up the front path and toward the lighted porch of the



farmhouse. My legs were shaking, from a combination of guilt



and excitement at what I had been doing with the boy in the



car, and fear at what might await me inside the house. I had



the best mom in the world, but she had always been strict and



old-fashioned, and since she had remarried, my stepfather, a



big mucky-muck at the church we attended, had made things



positively medieval.







Among the things they were strictest about was the rules



about going out at night. I was required to tell them where I



was going and when I would be back, and I wasn't to go anywhere



else or get back any later. Well, tonight I had said I was



going to the movies with Eddie, and we would stop for a soda



afterwards. That would get me home by midnight, and here it was



1:30 in the morning, the latest I had ever stayed out. My only



hope was that they had gone to bed early, assuming that because



I had always been such a good girl everything would go on



schedule. Or maybe, even if they caught me, they would decide I



was too old for THAT, and I could get away with just being



grounded for a while.







My head was spinning and my body was still pulsing at what



had happened. I wouldn't have believed I was capable of losing



control of myself that way. I'm used to being popular, being a



cheerleader and looking the way I do and all...







Princess: Aha, Princess dreams she's Judy.







Judy: But still also Princess...







...and I had been allowed to go out on dates in cars since I



turned fifteen, as long as the boys were approved and I said



where I was going and came back on time. A lot of the boys



tried to kiss me when we went out, and I let a few of them do



it and learned how much fun it could be to kiss back, but our



sessions were always short, and I never let them get beyond



kissing - before Eddie.







This was our fifth date, and things had been rushing along



so fast I couldn't wait to see him. At the end of the last



date, after we had kissed and kissed and rubbed against each



other, he said he loved me, and I said I loved him. I couldn't



even sleep last night thinking about what might happen tonight.



When we got to the movie we had sat in the back row and had



started kissing half way through, and it seemed like we



couldn't get enough of each others' lips. He had touched my



breast through my blouse, and I had made no move to stop him,



feeling the hardening of my nipples and the moistening and



tingling between my legs. He had driven us straight from the



movie to the parking spot, and pretty soon his hands were all



over me, and my blouse open and my bra undone and his lips



sucking on my breasts, and all I could think was "don't stop."







I gave a little moan, and he slipped his hand up between my



legs. I spread them apart to let him touch me where I yearned



to feel him, and his hand was so good on me. We climbed over



into the back seat and he lay me down there and kneeled on the



floor while he kissed my bare breasts and touched me under my



panties. I made noises that told him what felt best, and pretty



soon his fingers were swirling around my little button a lot



like to the way I did myself in bed at night - but it was more



exciting to have someone else do it, even if he didn't know



exactly where to go or how hard. And then I came, and I lost



control of myself and I'm not sure what noises I made or words



I said, but I felt the explosion go all through me.







He didn't even have to tell me what he wanted or what I



should do - my hand was just drawn to the hard bulge between



his legs, and I stroked it through his jeans. We traded places,



me kneeling on the floor and him lying on his back on the back



seat. I unzipped him and felt inside and touched it through his



underpants, so big and hard. Then he unbuckled his belt and



took his pants off, and I lowered his underpants for him, and



felt his bare penis.







I ran my hand up and down the shaft and he groaned like an animal. I



wanted to make him feel everything I had felt, and I asked him what I



should do. He said I should wet my hand and stroke him, so I reached



between my legs and got some of my own juices to make it easy for my hand



to slide up and down on him. Then I spit on the other hand and used it to



rub the lower part of the hard shaft. Pretty soon he tensed up and went



rigid and groaned, and then the stuff came out.







I was really surprised how much there was, and how far it



spurted, but I caught some in my hand and used it to keep



stroking him until he was finished coming. There was quite a



mess, but I didn't try to clean it up - I went up and kissed



him on the mouth, and he kissed me back, and we hugged and



kissed some more, and he said again that he loved me.







Later he got hard again, and I was still excited, and he



wanted to go all the way. I had enough sense not to do that,



though I sure could have. But I knew I could get pregnant, and



I also thought of that big thing going into me - it seemed like



it would have to hurt. So I was able to stop him and we got



dressed and we kissed some more and talked. Then we finally



noticed what time it was - way later than I was supposed to be



out. At that, I got a little panicky, and I had him drive me



back home, and I gave him a quick kiss and headed in.







So here I was, and as I opened the front door and stepped



inside I could see one light was on in the living room. Mom



called out asking if it was me. I said it was, and came into



the room, where it looked like she had fallen asleep. My



stepfather wasn't there, and she said he had gone to bed, but



she had stayed up to wait for me. As soon as she saw what time



it was, she said I was in big trouble. Then she got up and



turned on the main lights, and looked closely at me and said I



was a sight, and asked me what had I been doing. I looked down



and could see that my blouse was buttoned wrong, and there was



a big wet spot on it. She saw it too, and came over and asked



if it was what she thought it was, had I let that boy take my



clothes off, had I done it with him? I said no I hadn't done



it, I was still a virgin, and she seemed relieved at that. So



when she questioned me about what we had done, I told her way



too much. I said we had necked quite a bit, and I had let him



unbutton my blouse, and he had gotten excited and had an



ejaculation - I used the word from sex ed class. I said he was



a nice boy and that he loved me, as if that would make it seem



all right to Mom.







Well, it didn't, not by a long shot - she was really



shocked and angry, and told me she couldn't believe that I



would disrespect myself so, and defy my parents in that way. I



said "what parents, my stepfather isn't one of my parents" - which



was a big mistake. She got even angrier, and said she didn't



know what she would do with me if she didn't have a man to help



her, and he was going to hear everything - everything - and I



would bear the consequences, and they would be very serious.







I started to cry and begged her not to tell him, that I



was afraid, that maybe he would hit me or hurt me. She said he



would not "hit me," he was a decent man who had control over



himself and never would strike a woman or a child in anger. But



he would be very upset, and she wouldn't be at all surprised if



he decided that for my own good I needed a good whipping. I



cried and begged and said that I was too old for that , and



that I had been a good girl, and had never been whipped, and



would never do it again, and would obey them.







Well, by this time I guess I'd been making enough noise to



wake up my stepfather, and he came downstairs in his bathrobe



and slippers. Mom told him EVERYTHING. I just couldn't believe



it - I stood there, staring down at the rug, while she told him



how I had touched Eddie and let him touch me and how my blouse



was buttoned wrong and how I got that spot on my shirt.







Finally he just said "Look at me, child!" Well by this



time I really felt like a child, and I looked up, and he was



staring right at me with his craggy, stiff face and his big old



nose and big eyebrows and dark sunken eyes, and I felt about



two feet tall, and scared. "Is this all true?" he asked, and



said yes it was - I didn't have any choice by this time. "Do



you have anything to say for yourself?" he asked, and I tried



to explain how Eddie was a good boy and I loved him and we



hadn't done any harm and I was sorry and it wouldn't happen



again. But my words tumbled over each other, and didn't sound



like they made any sense even to me, and finally I just ran



down and stopped.







"Do you think any of what you have said excuses what you



have done?" he asked. I was silent for a minute, looking down,



and finally I said no - I was hoping against hope if I just



acted sorry it wouldn't happen. But there was no way. He said



"This is very SERIOUS wrongdoing, and requires very SERIOUS



consequences - isn't that right, Alma?" My Mom said she agreed,



and I just felt totally alone.







So then he said that this wasn't the time to set my exact



punishment. We should all go to bed, and I should think about



what I had done and how wrong it was, and he and Mom would talk



about what had to be done about it. Then he said that I



wouldn't be leaving the house the next day - Saturday - and



early in the evening, when everyone could be present, my



punishment would be announced and carried out.







Well that told the tale, and I felt like the blood drained



right out of my head and the top half of my body. The only



punishment in our house that got "carried out" in those



circumstances was the one my younger sister had had once, and



my brother twice - a terrible strapping with my stepfather's



big thick leather belt, in front of everyone else, on the bare



rear end, bent over the ottoman that went with the couch. I



could see every detail in my mind's eye, and could practically



hear my sister crying and begging him to stop and finally just



screaming that time, and the terrible "WHAP, WHAP," and the



awful red welts on her soft little white rear end.







I couldn't help myself, I started to shake and then to



cry. I could only hope against hope that he didn't mean this,



but really he couldn't mean anything else, and about the only



"detail" left to be fixed was how many times he would whip my



poor bottom with that terrible thick belt.







Well, I cried, and I begged and pleaded a little, but he



just looked cold and mean and said I should go to bed and think



about what I had coming. I looked at Mom, but she had her arms



crossed on her chest and wasn't looking any too sympathetic



either. So I just sniffled and whimpered like a little baby and



took myself up to bed. I could hear them following me up and



going into their bedroom down the hall.







There was no hope I'd be going to sleep, and I wanted to



hear what they would say. I guess I thought I might find out



more about my punishment - maybe hoped my mom would talk him



out of the whipping once she was alone with him. But I also



think maybe I had a little inkling about something else, too,



and that was probably part of what made me creep out into the



hall and listen at their door once I was sure they were settled



down in there.







The fact was, I'd heard my mom and stepfather having sex.



I mean, it wasn't like they didn't shut their bedroom door or



something, but the fact was that door would be pretty regularly



shut and locked for quite a while with them in there on on



Saturday mornings, and my sister and I had crept up and



listened a couple of times, and we could hear the bedsprings



creaking, and little sounds from mom, and once we happened to



be there to hear this big groan from our stepfather. And once



when they thought I was asleep but I was up reading and went



down to the kitchen for a snack, I tiptoed past their door and



I heard the same sounds, only this time my mom was making more



noise - I heard her go "oh, oh, oh, oh" and then a long



"ahhhhh" -- and then a few seconds later there was another big



loud groan from him.







Well, there was another time, and this time it was no



accident I heard. The time my stepfather whipped my sister, I



was very suspicious. I mean, he was this big churchgoing prude



and all, and here he was making my sister take off her panties



and get whipped on the bare bottom in front of me and my



brother. I'm not saying she didn't deserve to get punished -



she got in big trouble at school for cutting lots of classes



and trying to forge her name on attendance slips, and she



actually got suspended for a couple of days. And I'm not saying



he couldn't spank her, if it was OK with Mom - she had spanked



us all plenty of times herself when we were little. But he



could have let my sister keep her underpants on. I mean, she



was 14, and she had started having her period, and her breasts



were pretty developed, and she had her pubic hair and all, and



it just didn't seem right.







Anyway, I watched him while he whipped her, and he was



trying to look all sorrowful about it and stern, but I saw him



sweating and I think he was excited. So after the whipping was



over, and I had comforted my poor sister and rubbed some lotion



on her bottom, and she had gone off to sleep, I decided to



listen in and see what was happening in their bedroom. So I



took the same route as before, like I was headed down to the



kitchen for a snack, and kneeled by their door and listened.



Well this time I really got an earful. He was grunting away



louder than before - but mom wasn't making any noise at all.



Pretty soon he gave that loud groan of his, and this time right



after he groaned he cried out "Praise the Lord!"







Well, you can see where I'm headed here. This night I go



out by their door again, just like that time, and I kneel down



and listen again. And I don't hear any talking about what



punishment is appropriate for me, or about anything else. No, I



hear the bedsprings creaking - and mom is whimpering. Actually,



they have left the door unlatched this time and it is open a



crack and I can hear better this time. She makes this regular



little whimper, and he is breathing hard and grunting, and the



springs are creaking regularly. Then she is saying "Oh - oh -



oh" - and "yes" and "please" and "that's good" and "yes, yes,



yes, yes" and then a long kind of low wail - and he grunts



louder, and then he is grunting every time he breathes - "unh,



unh, unh" - and then a loud groan and it sounds like all the



air is coming out of him. And he says "praise the lord" again.



And then "Ah, Alma, you're a fine woman" and she says something



low I can't hear, and he says "I think we can stop it right



here, if we are very severe with her."







So it's true - they have been talking about punishing me -



and that got him excited, and got him to to make love to my mom



in the middle of the night - and I know he was thinking about



the whipping that I am going to get tomorrow. I don't think Mom



was thinking about that - I think she was thinking about what I



was doing with Eddie and putting herself in my place - but what



do I know?







I go back to my room, and I still can't sleep. I'm still



scared, thinking about the whipping I will get, and I picture



it in my mind. But besides feeling scared, I'm feeling excited,



like with Eddie earlier. I imagine my stepfather with a big



penis, all hard and erect, bigger than Eddie's, and he is



thrusting it into my mom and I picture her, naked, all soft and



round with her big breasts and big bottom and round stomach,



with her fleshy thighs spread out under him, and giving her



little cries of pleasure as he drives that big thing up between



her legs into her. And mixed up with that I see the picture of



myself bent over the ottoman in the living room, my bare bottom



there for all the world to see - or at least my mom and sister



and brother to see. My brother is 13, and I imagine he will get



very excited when he sees me naked like that, and his little



penis will get hard, and later back in his room he'll pull on



it and groan and squirt white stuff while he runs through the



images of me getting whipped.







I know what the whipping will be like, because I remember



my sister's so well, and I remember it so well because - this



is my darkest secret - I have replayed it many times in my



fantasies lying in bed at night, and getting excited, and



fingering myself between my legs. I picture my stepfather



standing over her with his big nose and his dark hair and dark



glaring eyes, that thick belt swinging in his hands, and I



imagine his penis, all thick and hard, standing up erect in his



pants as he looks down at my sister's white bottom. And then he



swings the belt down, real hard, and she screams, and there is



an angry red welt across the white - and I imagine his erection



swelling and pulsing, the way I felt Eddie's swell and pulse in



my hand when I was stroking it just before he came - his balls



pulling up tight under the hard shaft. When I had felt that I



had somehow known to cup the balls in my hand and fondle them



gently while I kept stroking his shaft with the other hand -



and that had torn a terrific groan from Eddie - and seconds



later that tremendous spurt of white stuff had come out of him.







I imagine my stepfather on top of my mother after whipping



my sister, his big shaft going into her wetness between her



legs, and his balls pulling up, and her hand reaching down and



touching them, and going through his mind like through my mind



is the picture of my sister squirming, her naked bottom and



thighs writhing under the lash of the belt, and losing control



of herself and letting her legs come apart so he could see the



little tuft of pubic hair, and her cheeks coming apart and



showing the crack and the little hole, and him even more



excited at seeing that, and bringing the belt down on her again



- this time across the back of her thighs, and she twists and



squirms to try and get away from it, but she can't. And the



loud crack is followed by an animal-like shriek from her - and



then her begging cries - "Please, please, don't hit me again -



I'll be good - I'll never do it again" - and then another crack



and another red welt in the white skin - and her pitiful pleas



- "Oh mommy - it hurts so much - don't let him - don't DON'T



DON'T - PLEEEEEZE" - and then the "CRACK - AAAAAAAAAAH."







And I imagine all of that running through his mind as



through my mind, and then I have the picture of his big hard



penis spurting white stuff into my mom, and him groaning and



crying out, almost like he is being whipped himself, and her



hand cradling his balls, and her fleshy breasts and stomach and



thighs all coated with sweat, and her face distorted with



pleasure, and her hips lifting up to meet his thrusts.







By now I am very excited, and I have rolled on my stomach,



and have my hands between my legs, one of them playing with my



button and the other one with two fingers going into my hole.



I'm building up and getting close, and just as I can feel that



I'm about to come, I'm me again instead of my mother, bent over



that ottoman, my bare bottom visible to everyone, but



especially to my stepfather who stands over me with the thick



punishing strap in his hand.







And I tingle in anticipation of the blinding hot pain when



he brings it down on my rear, and see the bright red stripe



leaping out on my naked white skin, crossing the dark shadow of



my crack. And the pain blends with the burning pleasure in my



lower belly and between my legs, and the picture of my



stepfather whipping me blends with a picture of him bent over



me naked, with his big erect penis plunging into me from



behind, and I writhe up to meet his lustful thrusts and his



angry lashes both at the same time, as the pleasure explodes



through me...







Princess: Wow! Judy - I wouldn't have guessed you had this



in you!







Judy: So - does it come close?







Princess: Pretty damn good, you little pervert - you may



have even supplied me with a new mind-video for home use!







Judy: Well let me finish...







All of a sudden you are awake, and now it is YOU again,



back in your bed at home, home from the date with your geeky



would-be boyfriend - your nice ultra-liberal mom is asleep down



the hall - and you've got no sunken-eyed religious fanatic sex



maniac of a stepfather to whip your tail for you. So what's a



girl to do?







Princess: Jill off again?







Judy: Naaah - you need company - so you call your best



friend and lover, your girlfriend Judy.







Princess: In the middle of the night? That would have



woken up your parents.







Judy: Hey, Princess, this is a STORY - so just imagine we



had what our own kids have now - a separate phone line...







Princess: Yeah - wouldn't that have been great? So I call



you and you answer all sleepy and foggy...







Judy: And you tell me about your downer of a date, and



then about your dream where you're me, or like me, and pretty



soon instead of you being excited and me sleepy, we're both



sleepy AND excited ...







Princess: And we each play with ourselves, listening to



the sounds the other one makes over the phone.







Judy: Yeah - in fact it's that very night that we invent



the great American institution of phone sex...







Princess: Hey - do you think we could have taken out a



patent on it? Each time someone does phone sex they have to



send a royalty payment to Princess and Judy, Inc.







Judy: Well honey, before you turn my nice little piece of



erotica into a business school problem, I say it's time to get



out of the hot tub ...







Princess: Nice! There was nothing nice about that - it was



VILE AND DISGUSTING! ... So, sweetie, my best friend



understands me! Now, it so happens I've got this comfortable



bed just going to waste - can I interest my best friend ...?







-The end-


















 



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