AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He pulled his penis from my mouth and took a step back. I looked up at the three of them, the enormous, naked men and the woman whose lingerie — including the huge, terrifying strap-on cock on the leather harness that enclosed her pussy and her bottom — made her appearance more obscene than nudity would have.
My bears.
The colonel spoke in a slow, solemn voice that made my whole body tremble. "Twelve strokes of the cane, Your Royal Highness, for breaking in where you don't belong, for stealing our food, for destroying our furniture, and for lewd conduct in a bed that doesn't belong to you."
I kept looking at him, though I shook my head no and tears of terror sprang up in the corners of my eyes. Papa Bear held my gaze for a second longer, and then he turned and started to walk around the discipline horse. The major and the master sergeant followed, a step behind, as I twisted my head, trying to see them.
"Eyes forward, Susanna," the colonel said. "What happens to your backside now is our affair."
When I turned my face back around, I noticed with a skip of my heartbeat that there was a mirror on the back of the door that showed me the whole scene. Papa Bear stood just behind the discipline horse, a little to my left. He had rested the cane across his left palm as he waited for Mama Bear and Baby Bear to take their places, a pace further back, their attention focused on my upraised bottom.
As I watched, the cane rose, the colonel bringing his arm to shoulder height. I let out a cry of fear when I felt his left hand come to rest atop the belt, his thumb and pinky pressing against the skin of my back.
"Don't get any ideas about getting this over with quickly, Susanna," Papa Bear said, his tone very stern. "I'm going to do this slowly, so you have time to think about your misbehavior, and how you're going to improve your conduct."
Then he struck for the first time. The swish and the crack and the pain all seemed to unfold in an instant that somehow stretched itself into an eternity of agony. The line of fire caught me low down, across both cheeks, and as the intensity of it grew, I felt my body shudder and I cried out. I couldn't bear another one, let alone twelve. I sobbed in sheer terror.
"Next time you come across someone else's house," Mama Bear said, "maybe you'll remember this feeling."
CHAPTER 13
Papa Bear
I had a difficult task, but a highly enjoyable one, ensuring that our little fuck toy princess took away from this punishment what she should. I delivered the second cut of the cane just above where I had placed the first. Susanna wailed, her limbs struggling desperately against the leather restraints, as if she thought she could somehow get off the discipline horse and run away.
Her tears had already made a little puddle on the dark green carpet beneath her face where she had hung it abjectly down. She had made her hair messy again with the way she had thrashed about as she felt the first two lashes of her true punishment. I moved my left hand from the stout belt around her waist to smooth the pretty golden mane over her right shoulder, so that I could see her lovely face, the blue eyes tightly closed.
I stroked her flushed cheek with the back of my hand, and I felt a little pang of sympathy as I sensed how wet her penitent tears made my knuckles. A deep sob emerged from the princess' chest, and I couldn't help noticing how her sweet little breasts heaved, their nipples stiff and pointing to the floor.
Sympathy, yes. But not the slightest shred of regret. Not only had the girl broken in as if she thought her royal status entitled her to behave not as a princess but as a tyrant, eating our risotto and destroying a chair, but her whole character, since turning eighteen at least, demonstrated how badly she needed a comeuppance like this one — above all, one delivered along with a very healthy dose of sexual servitude.
I put my hand back on the belt and tightened my grip. Susanna let out a shriek of fear, evidently sure that another stroke of the cane would follow immediately. Instead, I laid the cane across her lower back and put my hand on her adorable, pert bottom. The shriek faded into a sobbing moan as I caressed the marks of the cane, which had blossomed beautifully into a crisscross pattern. The light pink vertical stripes from the lighter cuts I had bestowed when she was learning to receive the penis in her mouth served as intersecting accents for the darker red double lines that showed the more serious discipline I had started to give her.
"Pretty," Karl commented, his tone that of an injured party well satisfied by the retribution being given to the miscreant responsible.
"Very," Hanna confirmed. In the major's voice I heard more lust than justice. I turned to look at her to find her smiling back at me, holding her massive green strap-on in her hand and stroking it carefully as if the purely symbolic act provided real pleasure.
Well, I thought, it clearly does provide real pleasure — the pleasure of knowing the princess is ours to use until we decide she's reformed enough to serve Forthia as she should.
With my middle two fingers, I traced the first welt I had made on Susanna's lovely backside, low down on her sit spot and the darkest of her cane marks so far. My fingertips lingered in the middle, where the parting of her legs by the cuffs around her lower thighs exposed her tight young pussy, only a millimeter or two away. I exerted a little pressure there, and Susanna rewarded me with a deep moan of helpless need.
Quickly I picked up the cane, raised it, and struck.
Goldilocks
When I felt the third lash fall across my bottom cheeks, right after Papa Bear had almost rubbed me where I so desperately wanted him to rub me, I started to scream and sob uncontrollably. As the pain built and built, this stroke seeming to bring back the agony of all the earlier ones, I lost control of my body and, to my horror, I felt my bladder let go.
"Oh…" I whispered, and the whisper became a deep moan. "Oh… oh, no… no…"
But the sound of the gushing yellow stream, and the liquid warmth, happened all the same, no matter how much I wished it weren't real. And the terrible pleasure of that release happened, too — not only the physiological part, but something even worse: a surge of arousal at the knowledge that my bears were watching it happen, that my new Papa had made it happen with the severity of my punishment. I had thought I had already felt the deepest shame my heart and mind could produce: this level of mortification represented something entirely new.
Unable to stop myself, I clenched and unclenched my backside as the stream continued despite those little movements, and they produced nothing but new surges of need in that part of my body. Combined with the fading agony of the cane welts, it made me moan again at the ache in my pussy.
"Get a towel, Karl," I heard Mama Bear say, her voice sounding miles away in the fog of crimson embarrassment that had engulfed me. "Susanna, you'll clean up the carpet before you go to bed."
"I suppose in the old days they would have whipped you extra for that, you naughty little slut," Papa said.
The terrible ordeal had already rendered me so confused that all I heard at first was that the colonel meant to increase my punishment — that he intended to discipline me as they had disciplined naughty little sluts in the old days. I turned my face back over my shoulder to look at him.
