Sidney’s little sister, Christie, had been staying with us for two weeks, and it was beginning to annoy me. Just graduated from college, Christie had been diligently searching for a job, but the economy wasn’t doing her any favors. And to be fair, it was actually Sidney that was annoying me. You see, if she doesn’t get her weekly spanking—a very hard spanking--she becomes a real brat. A very annoying brat.
That morning, I relaxed in our bed, listening to Sidney in the shower, cock hard, waiting for her to come back into the room. A couple of times a week, she’d suck me off before going to work, usually kneeling on the hardwood floor next to the bed; she liked being able to taste me all day, and feel the little bit of roughness on her knees, reminding her that I owned her (sexually speaking, for the most part).
If I had spanked her the night before, I’d usually warm her ass back up before she swallowed, so that it was nice and sore all day. I loved the idea of her sitting on a sore ass, sucking in a breath every time she sat down, all day, reminding her of whatever cruel things I had done to her the night before. It drove her crazy getting spanked and sucking me without being able to come herself, and knowing she wouldn’t be able to come all day.
Sometimes she’d call at lunch, begging for permission to play with herself and get some relief. Sometimes I let her. Other times, I’d order her to go to the bathroom and slide a middle finger all the way inside her, super slow ten times, then the other middle finger. She’d then have to clean them both off, and go back to work without any relief.
This morning, when she came back into the room, she just looked at my hard cock and said, “Baby, Christie is waiting for me to drop her off at the library. She’ll wonder what’s taking so long.” She didn’t act near as disappointed as she should have.
This did not make me happy. Compounded by the fact that I hadn’t been able to spank her or really fuck her since Christie had been there—oh, there had been some quiet, her-on-top or me-on-top moments here and there, but those weren’t our style, or what got either of us off.
“You’re going to get it tonight, my naughty girl,” I said, more than a little anger slipping through my voice. She gave me a funny look, about to go into her “but Christie will hear us” spiel, but I cut her off. “She’s going to the movies with some friends she met tonight. Nothing is saving your ass.”
She smiled, a little smile, a mix of excitement and fear suddenly widening her eyes.
“It’s been two weeks, and you’ve been very bad,” I continued.
She started to say something, but I shushed her and then kissed her, a nice, long, deep kiss that halfway through broke down her walls, and I could feel her reacting, finally. I told her to kiss my cock—she took it in her mouth and swirled her tongue very nicely—and then to get to work, adding that she better not be late that night.
About 11, I received a text. From Christie. Sidney said that you were going to spank her tonight. Is that true?
I had no idea what to say to that. Eventually I replied simply Yes
. Can I watch? Why? You have no idea how mean Sidney was to me growing up. Much meaner than Liz. She’d always make me do her chores, and once she spanked me with a hairbrush after she got in trouble because I didn’t have time to do all of hers. And all Mom did was yell at her. It will be sweet, sweet revenge… Let me think about it
. That my cock could have typed, as hard as it was. The image of Christie over Sidney’s lap, her ass turning bright red, was a good one.
At 3, I sent Christie a text back--You can watch, but you have to do as I say, or you’ll be getting one, too. Sidney’s been really bad—she’s going to be crying by the end of it all—are you sure?
At 3:02, the reply was, Hell yeah. Can’t wait.
When she’s going to be spanked, especially a punishment spanking, Sidney is supposed to be home and in the corner by 6. It was 6:16 before she opened the door. Christie and I were sitting on the couch, watching a baseball game. Sidney looked at me, then at Christie, started to say something, and then began walking towards the bedroom.
In my sternest voice, I said, “Sidney, you know you’re not supposed to step off the rug by the door until all of your clothes are off. And then only to step to the corner. What do you think you’re doing, young lady?” Christie giggled nervously, never having heard me talk to Sidney like I was.
I continued, “Imagine my surprise when Christie told me that you always tell her about your spankings, and the other mean things I do to you. That you even showed her your ass the last time we visited your parents. So there was no reason at all that I shouldn’t have been spanking you regularly over the last two weeks, is there, Sidney?” I had been stewing on that all afternoon.
She knew then she was toast. Two weeks of being a brat to pay for, plus lying to me. She looked around, nervously, wondering what to do. I think making a run for the door crossed her mind. I slowly raised my arm, pointing to the corner.
Sidney walked over to me, leaned over with her hand on the table and kissed me. “Sorry, baby,” she whispered. Then gave Christie a very wicked, I-will-be-getting-even look. She walked back over to the rug by the door, and took off her high heels and began to undo the buttons on her blouse.
“Christie, would you be kind enough to take Sidney’s clothes and put them away?”
Christie gave me a funny look, like she wasn’t sure she wanted to be that close to Sidney just then, but the stern look on my face persuaded her to get off the couch. She stood there next to Sidney as she removed her blouse and then her skirt.
Sidney looked very good in her white underwear. She’s both the tallest of the three sisters, and the most athletic. She played soccer, basketball and ran track in high school, and was on the soccer team at the little college she went to back east. She even tried lacrosse in college, and was immediately good at that. The first time I saw her was watching her play in a soccer game right before mine—my heart was gone before we ever spoke.
The next week my team played hers. Midway through the second half, my team down one, she beat two players and was flying towards our goal when I stepped between her and the ball and ‘accidentally’ knocked her about ten feet. She hit the ground and rolled, looking up to see who had taken her out. Then she smiled at me, like she had accepted a challenge.
Mostly, standing there looking at her hand her clothes to her little sister, all that wonderful, light brown skin and long, long legs, I think I just got unbelievably lucky. And realized early on that giving her an inch (like the last two weeks) was a bad, bad idea.
It was interesting to compare the two of them, standing next to each other. Christie was shorter, but where Sidney was long and lithe and striking, Christie was more super-cute. And had that amazingly round ass (which she had teased me with a few times over the last couple of weeks, wearing little running shorts, or that day with the towel that was a bit too short—bending over to shake out her hair while Sidney was in the one and only bathroom). You could tell they were sisters standing next to each other, but if they were both at a party, you wouldn’t have guessed it.
Turning her back to me, Sidney took off her panties before her bra (she didn’t like having the smallest breasts of the three—they were perfect in my mind, and her hints about bigger ones were met with disbelief). Finally the bra came off, then she stepped forward, into the corner, her hands crossed behind her back—doing it quickly, I think so Christie didn’t get a good look at her breasts. Sidney hates the corner.
Christie looked at me like a kid that just found out they were finally tall enough to ride the big roller coaster—she was nearly bouncing up and down—and then walked into our bedroom to put the clothes away.
She came back, and I motioned for her to sit next to me on the couch. She put her hand on my thigh, which made it hard to pay attention to the game. It was quite obvious I was hard. And between looking at the long, wonderful line of Sidney’s body in the corner and Christie’s hand on my thigh, it stayed very hard.
I also wondered what else these two sisters had talked about on the way to the library.
I made Sidney spend 40 minutes in the corner. A half hour was normally the most, but she had been so bad. After 40 minutes, I turned off the TV, and asked Christie to get me a bottle of water from the kitchen. She went, happily bouncing. I moved to sit on the coffee table, then drank most of the bottle, just staring at Sidney’s ass, letting the tension in the room build and build. Also trying to figure out what I was going to do. Letting my anger build and rumble around inside me, filling the room.
Truthfully, Sidney’s edge—her need for pain—was a bit further out there than my edge. And sometimes when I went that far out there, pushing her and I to those extremes, it bothered me. I’m not sure I liked what those trips showed me about myself.
Finally, I said, “Sidney, please get me your collar from the bedroom.”
Relieved, she stepped out of the corner and started towards the bedroom. I made a disapproving sound. “You’ve been very bad, haven’t you, my love? I think on your hands and knees would be better.”
She gave me a dirty look, but said, “Yes, sir,” as she went down on all fours. I loved watching her crawl to the bedroom.
Christie grabbed my arm and whispered, “I can’t believe you’re doing this to Sidney
.” She was still very happy to be getting on the roller coaster.
Sidney came back, on her hands and knees, dog collar in her mouth. I took it from her, telling her thank you, and put it on the coffee table next to me.
“Would you please get the paddle as well?”
No look this time, as she padded off on the hardwood floors.
The paddle was wicked—thick and curved to hit a good portion of her ass cheek at once, and with 3/8” holes drilled in it, to bruise her ass. She brought it back in her mouth, too.
“I think we’ll start with 50 on each cheek. Stand in the middle of the room, and grab your ankles for me.”
She bent over right in front of me, giving both me and her sister a wonderful view of her ass, and partially of her pussy. “Spread a little wider--you know I like to see your pussy.”
She adjusted her feet, spreading them for me, now feeling totally exposed.
“Christie, would you put your hand between Sidney’s shoulder blades and make sure she doesn’t stand up. She has a long night in front of her, I don’t want to have to give her too many extras.”
Christie moved next to her, and tentatively put her hand on her sister’s back.
“I think she can bend over a little more, too. I want that ass nice and tight. Help her please me—push down a bit.”
Christie did, until Sidney let out a little mew. Her body was completely bent in half, her ass stretched and taut. I ran the paddle over her cheeks, then between them. It still is her least favorite position to be spanked--too vulnerable.
“Why am I spanking you, slave?”
“I was very bad, sir.”
“I’ve been a brat. I didn’t suck your cock this morning. I haven’t been a good slave for two weeks. I told you I didn’t want Christie to hear us, when she wouldn’t have minded. I’m sorry, sir.”
“And did you do all that hoping I’d punish you severely? Worse than I ever have before?”
She thought about that, bent over and exposed, her sister holding her there. “Subconsciously, I think I did, sir.” Her voice was very quiet.
“Ok, baby, we’re going to start out pretty hard. 50 on your right cheek. Beg for them.” Normally I warmed her up with my hand, and then maybe the hairbrush, before the harshness of the paddle. Not tonight.
“Please give me 50 on my right cheek sir. Please spank me.”
“And since you been very bad, should these be extra hard?”
“Yes sir. Very hard, sir. I’ve been very bad.”
I put my left hand on the bottom of her spine, brought the paddle back further than I normally do, then brought it forward, hard, connecting with a solid CRACK against the bottom of her ass. The intensity surprised both of them, and they both let out the same little gasp. It made me smile, how similar the little sound was.
I rubbed her cheek with the paddle, then brought it back just as far, then CRACK—almost in the same place. Hard, almost as hard as I could hit, leaving her ass quivering.
On the fourth one, I was rewarded with a little ‘ow’. I knew these were hurting her good, maybe the most painful ones of the night, before her endorphins got flowing, and the pain took her halfway to somewhere else.
It is my slave’s job to count, so after the tenth one, she said, “Ten, sir. Thank you sir.” I liked hearing how her voice changed with each one. The shock at ten of remembering how much the paddle hurt.
“Twenty sir, thank you sir.” A little lust mixed in. Her body, her pussy, starting to respond as her ass was turning a deep shade of red.
“Thirty, sir, thank you sir.” The hurt starting to set in now, but the heat running through her body matching it, from her pussy outwards, pumping through her.
“Forty, sir, thank you sir.” Her voice caught a little, deep and low, mixed in with some tears. It took me from half-hard back to hard.
“Fifty, sir, thank—“ I gave her an extra one, followed by a couple more. She was expecting them, her sister wasn’t. Christie looked at me like I had robbed her piggy bank.
“Nothing about tonight is going to be fair, Christie. She’s been very bad, haven’t you slave?”
“Yes, sir.” Tears were running now, but so were the endorphins.
I ran my finger down between her cheeks, rudely over her asshole, then between the lips of her pussy. Oh so wet. I spread her lips a little, wetting my finger, then used it to moisten her clit. Not doing it kindly or gently, but just like I owned her and really didn’t care.
Pushed my index finger into her pussy, deep, and ran it around, the rest of my hand hard against her. Smiled at Christie as I pulled it out. Sidney let out a little moan, wanting my finger back, and knowing the other cheek was about to suffer. Her left cheek is the more sensitive side.
“This makes her very wet. I sometimes wonder if I’m punishing her or giving her what she wants.” I reached over and touched my finger to Christie’s lips. Ran the tip back and forth across them. She opened her mouth and sucked my finger in, tasting her sister.
I was suddenly certain it wasn’t the first time. Wondered what happened after the hairbrush incident.
Without warning, CRACK, the first one on her left side, shocking her as she sucked in air. Nine more, hard and fast, all on the same tender spot.
“Ten sir, thank you sir.” Tears already on this side. I was focusing on the crease between her ass and her leg, coming in at a little bit of an upward angle, lifting her up on her toes with each rough splat against her ass.
“Twenty sir, thank you.” More tears, lots of them. I wondered if she was going to make it to fifty. Pushed that thought aside, steeling myself, remembering how much morning wood she had ignored in two weeks.
“Thirty sir, thank you sir.” Her ass, even with her darker skin, was beet red now, with little circles covering it. I stayed cruel, still hitting the same spot over and over, punishing her.
“Forty, sir, thank you sir.” You could barely hear her. She was hurting.
“Are you sure, slave? I think that’s only thirty-eight.”
“Yes, sir, I’m sure that’s forty. But if you think it’s only thirty-eight…”
She didn’t really want to ask for any extra, and I actually hadn’t been counting, but they seemed to be going by awfully fast.
“Two more, just to be sure,” I said in a good-natured way. I smiled at Christie, but she was looking at me in a very different way. With a little bit of fear, perhaps.
“Forty, sir. Thank you sir.” Her tone didn’t seem to be very appreciative, which made me smile again.
The last ten were good and hard, lifting her up on each one. I loved the little gasps she made, how her body moved as the paddle cracked into her ass, how hard she was breathing. I gave her three extra, just to be fair to both cheeks.
She stayed in place, knowing not to move until she had permission. Christie sat back on the floor, wondering what was next.
I rubbed my hand over her ass. It was hot, and I could feel the little dimples from the paddle. She shimmied under my hand, liking my touch but oh so sensitive. I squeezed her left cheek; heard her suck in a breath. “Did those hurt, baby?”
“Yes, sir, very much.”
“You’ve been very bad. I’m afraid we still have the strap and the cane to go.”
“Yes sir.” Nothing but a whisper.
“And I think we’ll finish with fifty more of these. Do you think that’s fair for are naughty as you’ve been?”
She didn’t want to answer that. Her ass wasn’t even halfway through it all, and it was already hurting.
With my bare hand, I slapped each cheek.
“Slave, you know I don’t ask twice.”
“It’s fair, sir.”
“Are you sure? Your behavior has been terrible. Is it enough to learn your lesson?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll make sure I get my weekly spanking from now on no matter what.”
“And strive harder to please me?”
“Yes, sir. Always, sir.”
“Ok, slave, go take a shower. Make sure everything is very clean and very smooth. Christie, would you please bath your sister. Make sure everything gets nice and clean?”
“Yes, sir.” I’m not sure where that came from, but I liked it.
Christie helped her up. I stopped Sidney, and kissed her, then pulled her hair, lifting her chin, so I could kiss her throat. After another kiss, her body and arms now wrapped around me, I smacked her on the ass, encouraging her towards the bathroom.
Kind mixed with cruel was the best recipe, but sometimes it was hard to hold on to the cruel and still be kind.
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<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/spanking/sister-sister-part-one.aspx">Sister Sister (Part One)</a>