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The Real Clampetts

Ellie Mae saw her paw, Jed unrolling a belt he had taken out of a pocket of his old leather coat. She gulped, realizing that she was in for a licking. As the heavy, flexible leather unravelled under the force of gravity, it seemed to Ellie that it just kept getting longer and longer as if it wouldn’t stop. She gulped and fought the impulse to run. She knew that running would only help if she were prepared to live on her own from then forward.

Stealing herself against what was to come, by re-imagining her crimes from the past couple of days, she tried to convince herself she deserved the 150 or so licks she would get from Jed’s belt. She reminded herself that he wouldn’t ever seriously injure her, other than the inevitable bruises she would have from the intense spanking. Worst case scenario, if he thought she was becoming too bruised, he’d most likely let her go for a few days before finishing her spanking. In that case, she’d also have to deal with the anticipation of returning to her technically in-progress spanking.

Ellie walked slowly up the four steps to front porch of their shack. Jed hugged her warmly and then pushed her gently away from himelf by placing his hands on her shoulders.

“Now, Ellie,” Jed said, “You know that what you done wasn’t right, don’t you?”

Ellie nodded, “I know, Paw.”

Ellie’s mouth turned down at the sides and Jed noticed her lower lip was trembling. He really didn’t want to have to give her these lickings. It always tugged on his heart strings when she started crying. Predictably, she started crying after about 50 or 60 licks. Before that point in her spankings, she would grunt or say “ow!” after each lick of the strap, sounding almost defiant. But then once past a certain point, she would start bawling like a kid. Once, she even sucked her thumb while she cried.

Ever since Ellie turned 16, Jed no longer had her bare her bottom. It seemed inappropriate somehow. Now all Ellie had to do was un-knot the rope that she used for a belt and slip her jeans down to just above mid-thigh. This is just what she did, looking up at her father with wide eyes and a subtle tremble of her lower lip. She knew that an exaggerated trembling would be a dead give-away and result in extra licks, not fewer.

Ellie turned around and bent over the front porch wall, resting her belly on the wide, rounded top beam. Jed folded the wide, heavy belt and held it by the buckle and tip. He measured, with his left arm extended, the distance he would need to stand south west of her bottom, in order to get the best swing. You needed enough distance to swing a good slap, but not too much distance so that you needed a wind-up or lean forward. That is, if you’re doing a hundred or more licks. Some fathers liked to get it done with 20 or 30 licks, and in that case you’d need some wind-up…

Having obtained the best angle, Jed began swinging the belt against Ellie Mae’s bottom. He’d whack her, wait a second, and then whack again. He counted to himself, his lips moving as he did so. He mouthed “One, two, three, four…” After each lick of the belt, Ellie grunted and breathed rapidly, trying to absorb the heavy stinging licks, protected only by a pair of cotton panties.

Stroke followed stroke as the punishment went on, and Ellie’s vocalizations became louder and more urgent sounding. Jethro walked by the front of the cabin carrying a bundle of firewood. He’d heard the unmistakale sounds of leather whipping flesh and Ellie’s occasionaly yowl. As he passed by the front porch, he saw cousin Ellie bent over the front wall getting spanked by Uncle Jed, who seemed to be counting to himself, mouthing “Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight…”

Ellie was just starting to yelp in a higher than normal voice. Jethro had heard this before, and knew that it meant she would be crying in earnest soon. On the one hand, he did feel a little sorry for her, having to take a long, painful licking from Uncle Jed. Of course, he wasn’t as severe as Granny, but definitely a Jed whippin was nothin to sneeze at. But Ellie was tough and she could take it like a woman.

Her voice broke and she shed her first tears at lick number 87. Jed noted that she kept her hands in front of her and hadn’t tried to protect or rub her bottom as he contined her belt spanking. She did pound the wall with her fists as her eyes squinted in pain while she cried, but she was a good girl and didn’t try to interfere. So Jed decided to let the last fifty licks she had coming, be lighter ones. He would just maintain her current pain level instead of increasing it as usual. He would be able to ascertain her pain levels from the loudness and urgency of her crying.

So he finished up the remainder of Ellie Mae’s belt spanking as she cried, big tears rolling down her blushing face. By the end, she was leaning her face on one elbow and pounding the top of the wall with her other, wishing this ordeal would end soon. At last she felt a familiar pat on the middle of her back, indicating it was okay for her to stand up and he was letting her go.

Ellie Mae stood up and pulled her jeans up. As they slid over her hips, she winced, sharply inhaling. Once her pants were in place again, she used one hand to wipe tears from her face and the other to rub her bottom.

“I’m sorry I had to do that, Ellie Mae,” Jed said.

“I’m sorry too, Paw,” Ellie Mae said, pouting. She continued to rub her bottom.

Jed pulled her to him for a hug and said, “Go on, girl. Go have fun with your friends.”

Ellie Mae kissed her Paw on the cheek and walked down to her convertible Corvette. She sat down very slowly in the driver’s seat and drove down to the valley of Bug Tustle and to her favorite bar therein – The Junction.

She walked into The Junction to see several of the local girls, all ones involved in the fiasco that resulted in her punishment, standing near the bar. One sat uncomfortably on the edge ot her bar stool. She observed another rubbing her bottom, almost unconsciously. A third looked a bit red in the face and her eyes looked a bit puffy.

“So,” Ellie Mae thought. “We all ended up getting spanked because of this. Great…”

About Quai Franklin

Singer/songwriter, spanko/kinkster, fiction writer, philosopher, and discussion provocateur. I publish and broadcast independent voices you want to hear.

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This entry was posted on 2013/03/24 by in corporal punishment, domestic_punishment, fan_fic, short_story, spanking.

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