Pictures of women being punished

She will beg. She will plead. She will kick her legs and try to wiggle away. But these bad females are in for real punishment. See them bent over with their panties around their ankles. Imagine them crying for forgiveness. Imagine each of these naughty girls whimpering while there bare bums are repeatedly smacked paddled and caned!
Some naughty girls need more than just a spanking, in fact some need a fucking too. Some misbehavior requires strict anal punishment as well. Sometimes they need to get spanked and ass fucked.
It's a lot of work punishing these women, but there are places where you can see the dedication to ensuring naughty behavior gets dealt with.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Babysitter gets a hard spanking with the belt

Babysitter gets a hard spanking with the belt

The voice was tinny at the other end of the line, "Hello, this is Stacy."

"Stacy! This is Pammy. You're not going to believe what I found here!"

"Hang on Pammy. Where are you?"

"Oh, I'm over the Jenson's. I'm baby sitting for Amanda and Tom."

"The Jenson's? I sat for them too. The kids aren't too bad," Stacy said.

"It's not about the kids. They're in bed. You'll never guess what I found."

"Don't tell me you found old man Jenson's spanking magazine stash?"

"Old man Jenson reads spanking magazines?" I said surprised.

"Oh, yeah," Stacy said, "They're in the master bedroom bath under the vanity in the lower left drawer. I thought I told you that!"

"Did not!" I protested, but made a note to check it out.

"No Stacy, I found the key to the liquor locker."

"No way!"

"Way! I have it open right now."

"Where did you find it?

"Well, I found the key in the kitchen drawer with all their junk and it looked like it fit the cabinet next to the TV in the living room. So I took it and tried it and it opened. They have all kinds of stuff in here: booze, movies and some other stuff. Do you want to come over and party?" I poured myself a scotch and was now in the kitchen looking for some ice.

"I can't. You know this is a school night. My mom would never let me out of the house no matter what excuse I gave her."

"Then sneak out. We've done that before."

I put some water in the scotch, and tinkled it in the glass so Stacy could hear. That was all the argument I needed to make. Stacy said, "I'll be over in 10 minutes."

By now I was walking back to the living room to watch the R-Rated movie I also found in the same cabinet. As I entered the living room from one side, the front door opened and Mr. and Mrs. Jenson walked in from the other side.

Mr. Jenson immediately saw what was on the TV, the open liquor cabinet, and the drink in my hand. He boomed, "Pamela, what are you doing?"

"I ah," that's about as far as my mouth would work. I was caught red-handed. I hung up on Stacy without even saying "good bye."

"Obviously you were snooping around. What's worse, you broke into the cabinet. There's a reason why we keep that thing locked. What were you thinking?"

"But I," I left another sentence unfinished.

"Pamela, I don't know what I'm going to do with you. You're one of the best babysitters we've ever had, but I don't know how I can deal with this breach of trust."

Mr. Jenson was right. He paid a lot better than any of the other parents for whom I sat, and Mandy and Tom were really sweet kids who minded very well. It was, as baby sitting assignments went, a very good job.

By now the sinking feeling had knotted up my stomach, and tears were trickling down my cheeks, "I-I'm sorry Mr. Jenson. I won't do it again. I promise."

Mr. Jenson just scowled, "Put the drink down. Get your coat. I'm taking you home." The clipped emphasis he put on the word, "home," made it sound like the bang of a judge's gavel when pronouncing a sentence.

It was only a five minute drive to my house but it was the most uncomfortable five minutes of my life. Mr. Jenson said nothing the whole way and the silence only served to stretch out my discomfort.

Normally, he'd drop me off in front of the house and wait until I got in the door. This time he pulled into the driveway and turned off the car.

"Come on," he said.

"Where are we going?" I asked unnecessarily.

"I'm going to talk to your parents about this."

My sickening feeling got even deeper.

It felt funny standing there waiting on my own doorstep with Mr. Jenson ringing the bell. My mom answered the door. "Oh, hi Frank," she said and then frowned suddenly, "Is something wrong?"

Mr. Jenson put her at ease immediately, "No, everyone is fine, but there is something that I want to talk to you and John about."

Soon, the four of us were sitting in my living room with Mr. Jenson relaying what he discovered. Mom blushed with embarrassment. Dad blushed with anger. He had reason. We didn't have any alcohol in our house. Dad had beaten his alcoholism, and was understandably paranoid about the topic.

Mom asked me, "Pammy, you know better than that. I thought we raised you better. Don't we always tell you to respect other people and other people's things?"

I peeped out a meek, "Yes, mom."

Dad put in his two cents, "You're only 18. You know you shouldn't be drinking. You know what I think about that."

I just bowed my head and tried to swallow the knot in my throat.

Mr. Jenson came to my defense, "Pammy is one of the best babysitters we've had. I'd hate to see her go. She is great with the kids and they just love her, but I am disappointed in her tonight."

This hurt. I liked Mr. and Mrs. Jenson. It was important that they liked me too. I felt so ashamed that I had let them down.

Mom spoke up again, "Pammy! Look at me!"

Raising my head painfully against gravity, I finally managed to lift my eyes to hers.

She went on, "Pammy, you're a good kid and we love you. But tonight you did a very stupid thing. You realize that we are going to have to punish you."

All I could do was nod my head.

"First, I want you to apologize to Mr. Jenson for what you did. He trusted you, and you broke that trust."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jenson, I promise I won't do it again."

"Next, you're grounded for the next two weeks. Hand it over!"

I knew the rules for grounding: to and from school only, the TV in my room would be taken out, mom would limit my time on the computer to school work only, and I had to surrender my cell phone." The latter was particularly difficult. I lived on my phone. The reason I babysat and did other jobs was to earn the money to pay for my overages.

"And finally, you're going to get a spanking."

"Mom, you can't. I'm too old for a spanking!"

By this time, dad already had his belt off, and slapped it on the side of the couch. "If you're not too old to get in trouble, you're not too old for a spanking. When you behave like an adult, we'll treat you like an adult. Until then, we will treat you like a little girl."

He got up and sat down on the chair. "Now, get up and get your pants off and come over here."

Mr. Jenson said, "If you want me to leave …"

My mom answered him, "No, please stay. Pammy wronged you, so you should see that we are serious about teaching her a lesson.

This was so embarrassing. It was bad enough that I was going to get a spanking, but I was going to get one in front of Mr. Jenson. I don't think I could ever live this humiliation down. I'd never be able to talk to Mr. Jenson again.

By now I was standing in front of my dad. "Pull down your panties," he said calmly.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut as if that would make my audience go away. I felt more than naked as I lowered my panties and stepped out of them.

Tears were already streaming down my face as I got over my father's lap.

Up went my dad's arm. Down came the belt. I could hear the crack of the leather as it met my rear end before anything else registered. There was a jolt as if I were taken by surprise, then a numbness and then a sting, then it felt like little pin pricks all along the belt line. I was barely conscious of all this when the second blow came.

That knot that was in my throat raced back and forth between my neck and my crotch doing a cartwheel in my stomach when passing through. I was highly aware of my rear end. Heat was gathering at the stricken spots, and soon my entire ass felt ablaze. It seemed that I was more than aware of my rear end. It was the only part of my body of which I was conscious. My mind drifted away from everything else in the room and even other parts of my body. The only other sense left to me was the distant sense of hearing that only the crack of the belt managed to penetrate.

The heat became intense and I started kicking my legs and then I tried to get up. My father's arm wrapped around my middle and held me in place. The stinging slaps came harder and faster. I was pleading like a little girl for him to stop.

"This is a lesson you won't forget young lady!" he said as the spanking continued.

Suddenly I couldn't take anymore, my ass was blazing. I began crying like a little girl.

Then it was over. I lay draped over my father's lap sobbing. Eventually he told me to stand in the corner. I managed to regain my feet with some unsteadiness. Only then did I reach down to rub my aching ass. Inside and out, it felt like I just got up from sitting on a hot stove lid.

I stood in the corner, sniffling and gasping, but I could hear the conversation going on behind me.

Mom said, "We're sorry, Frank. I don't know what to tell you about Pammy. She's normally a good girl. I hope you accept our apologies for what she did tonight."

I could hear Mr. Jenson laugh, "We'll it certainly looks like she's learned her lesson. Of course, I accept your apology. What's more, I will honor your wish. When Pammy gets off her grounding, I would be willing to take her back as a babysitter if she promises to behave."

Dad said, "Well, she now knows what she'll get if she doesn't behave."

"Fine. In the meantime, I'll find a better place to hide that key."

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