Chapter 5
Angela's thoughts were jumbled as she approached the little house, her hair was disheveled and her cheeks still moist with the tears of her first real virginal loss and the stinging of her tender bottom. Each step she took made her conscious of the throbbing sensitivity of her dainty anus, and yet the tickling Father Edmund's finger had so insistently administered to her clit had wakened feelings which were even stronger.
Moreover, since she herself had already experienced them - though in much milder form - from her nocturnal self-fingering, Angela was able for all her innocence to understand that the very shock and shame of having a man - even though he was a priest and her confessor - strip and fondle her so intimately had been really what had intensified her tingling pleasure in front while her furtive little bottomhole had been initiated into adapting its tight and narrow inlet to the dimensions of the male.
Also, she had an uneasy and somewhat guilty fear that Father Edmund had as much as guessed that she had been spying on him and her mother, for when he had remarked that now she would know first-hand what had taken place between the woman and the man mentioned - though of course not identified - in her confession. And what frightened Angela most was that the tall, stern priest might tell her mother and thus sentence her to even worse punishment than she had just endured in the sacristy.
Also, he had said nothing to comfort her about having seen Daddy and Betsy together, only to scold her for her wickedness in eavesdropping on her elders and in not closing her eyes and turning away once she had seen what was being done in those beds. They were surely mortal sins, judging from all the teaching she had had, and yet Father Edmund hadn't even admitted as much.
At the last moment, Angela decided to enter the house through the kitchen and perhaps avoid meeting either her mother or father. She smoothed her rumpled skirt, dried her eyes and blew her nose, and then nervously opened the door and walked timidly inside. Her heart sank at once. Her mother must have just returned from marketing. She was in the kitchen with her back to Angela.
"Oh - h-hi, Mother," the black-haired teenager mumbled, and began to edge sideways towards the hallway, hoping to gain the sanctuary of her own room where she would change her clothes and repair the damages inflicted by Father Edmund's unique form of penance.
But fate was decidedly against Angela. Mary Carruthers turned, her blue eyes widening, then narowing.
"Angela, where have you been? Just look at you, young lady! Your skirt and blouse are a disgrace, and your face is red and swollen - what have you been up to?"
"Nothing - Mother. I went to con-confession, that's all, honest it is!" the blackhaired teenager faltered.
But the furious blush which rushed to her cheeks, a nervous reaction from all that had just happened and augmented by her mother's hostile and suspicious accusation, only served to increase Mary Carruthers' irritation.
"Oh, that's all, is it? A likely story! Like as not, you were flirting with some boy you met, probably in the alley!"
"Oh nooo, that's not true," Angela groaned, wringing her slim hands, tears glistening in her gray-green eyes.
A wave of self-pity flooded the girl at being adjudged a sinner when she had been just the reverse, a helpless, innocent victim.
"I'll soon find out. Come here to me, Angela !" her mother scolded, reaching for Angela's wrist.
Before the frightened girl could defend herself or guess what her mother intended, Mary Carruthers had pulled Angela over her knees as she seated herself on a nearby kitchen chair. In almost the same movement, she rucked up the blue cotton skirt.
"Ah, ha! Your panties are stained and wet, you sinful little slut! What did you do, let your nasty boyfriend take them down and play with you, you indecent little hussy?"
Angela made a futile effort to cover her still painfully throbbing bottom, burst into tears.
"Ohhhh, Mother, you know I don't have any b-boy friend," she sobbed dolefully, "it was in ch-church - "
"Oh, you outrageous little liar. Next you'll be telling me the good priest undressed you and played with you between the legs! Really, Angela, I have no patience with wicked lying little sinners. If you were honest enough to tell the truth, I'd be more likely to accept your story! Just for that, my girl, you're going to get a good spanking till you tell the truth!"
"Oh noooo, not a spanking, Mother. Please, I already had one. Don't take them off, Mother. Oh don't, ohhhhh !"
In vain the sobbing girl tried to fend off the undeserved chastisement. Mary Carruthers, with an impatient grimace, had already yanked the offending panties down to Angela's long thighs, exposing that adorably provocative, firm behind which was, this time, no longer as virginal as it had been when its lovely adolescent owner had hurried over to church to ease her troubled mind.
The marks of the priest's spanking, though slightly faded, were testimony to Angela's veracity. But Mary Carruthers, her left arm pulling the pleading, sobbing girl closer to her opulent body, had determined to view them only as further proof of Angela's carnal lapse from chastity and grace.
"Ah, no wonder you didn't want your panties down, you deceitful, sinful little slut!" Her mother harangued the unfortunate girl and, as Angela tried again to cover up her still smarting bottom with both hands, her blonde mother angrily pinned both wrists with her left hand. "Now, I shan't listen to any more of your lies, young lady! I am going to spank your wicked bottom till I'm convinced that what you tell me is the actual truth! Get ready, young lady!"
"Oh no, Mother! Don't spank me again - it still hurts from his - oww - ohhh. Mother, I beg of you - I'll be good - I didn't do anything wrong. Ahhrrrr - it wasn't my fault. I swear it. Oh don't spank so hard, it hurts so, Mother dear. I'll be good - ahh - ahh - oh no, no, please stop. Oh let up for a minute. I'll tell you - only please stop for a minute, Mother!"
Energetically Mary Carruthers had inflicted some twenty stinging slaps all over the wriggling, weaving, crimsoning naked bottom. Poor Angela, agonized by being immobilized so that she could not escape this unmerited second chastisement, was unable to remain stoic as the vehement smacks of her mother's hand increased the already hot stinging glow in her martyred bottom cheeks - and between them!
Sobbing woefully, her lovely face twisted and wet with tears, poor Angela again looked to observe her mother reaching for a worn slipper sole which lay on the kitchen table, grasping it and lifting it slowly above her already crimsoned, flinching naked bottom.
"Oh not with that! Not more spanking, pleeeeease, Mother!" she poignantly squealed, trying to jerk her captive wrists free so as to cover up her burning behind from this even more painful instrument.
"I'll teach you to carry tales, young lady! The idea, to be so blasphemous and have me thinking someone upright like dear Father Edmund would make improper advances to a rude little liar of twelve!" Mary Carruthers scolded Angela as she brought the sole down with a loud Whack! across the relatively spared base of poor Angela's left ass cheek.
"Oweeee ! Ohh it stings, it stings so, Mummy!"
Angela reverted to a maternal endearment she hadn't used since she was ten. Under the furiously burning torment of that cruel spank, which flattened her springy young elastic flesh and let it spring up in the most lascivious way, a bright red splotchy outline of the spanking instrument at once being inscribed on her warm bare skin.
"I mean it to sting, you wicked little hussy! Trying to blacken the good name of dear Father Edmund by covering up your nastiness with some stupid boy."
Mary Carruthers angrily rebuked Angela with a slap from the leather sole which danced from the outer edge of the girl's lower right buttock down over the base of the shuddering, inflamed twin hemisphere.
"Eeeyouuuahhh ! Ohhh, Mummy, pleeeease stop, I'll be good, I was lying, honest. Ooooh, it hurts, it hurts!" Angela shrilly and tearfully cried, her naked hips lunging madly upwards.
Instantly her mother released the girl's slim wrists to slide her left hand under Angela's loins. As she fell back sobbing and groaning on her mother's lap, Angela suddenly gasped and stiffened. Her tear-blurred eyes were enormous with shock. Her mother had slyly introduced her forefinger into Angela's moist twitching cuntal lips and was frigging them.
"Ohh - Mummy - wh - what are - owwwouuu, please, I can't stand it!"
Before she could protest this outrageous palpation of her virgin pussy, her mother had smacked Angela wickedly with the slipper sole, straight across the tops of her jerking, squirming naked hips.
Mary Carruthers moved her forefinger towards her daughter's clitoris. The instant she attacked that over-sensitized, rapidly burgeoning lodestone of Angela's adolescent emotions, the black-haired teenager writhed and began a jerky and rhythmic squirming over the maternal lap.
"Ah ha! You sinful, lying little slut you! To think of it, my own twelve-year-old daughter actually getting sexed up from a punishment spanking. It just shows how uncontrollable and naughty you've become, young lady!" Mary Carruthers continued to scold the sobbing almost nude girl bent over her lap, applying a quick little series of sharp crisp swats with the slipper all over the tossing, weaving, violently contracting naked asscheeks, which drew incoherent babbled pleas for mercy, pathetic avowals that Angela wasn't lying and that she would be ever so good if only her mother would stop.
Her face flushed and her ripe breasts heaving with undisguised excitement from her lubricious and sadistic handling of her lovely young daughter, Mary Carruthers again paused, pressing the slipper tightly over the sinuous shadowy crease that separated the flaming asscheeks - and perhaps subconsciously reminding the unfortunate young girl that right inside that intimate cleft, she had just sacrificed her first maidenhead of three.
Leaning towards the whimpering child, Angela's mother purred, "Are you still trying to tell me it was Father Edmund who gave you that first spanking, young lady?"
"Yes, Mummy dear. Oh, yes, I swear I'm telling you the truth!" Angela, hoping that this meant the end of her torment, exhaled tearfully.
"Well, then," her mother sniffed, "if he did spank your saucy bottom, young lady, it could only be because you gave him good reason, which means you have this good one coming, don't you now?"
Before the unfortunate girl could protest her mother's glib and unjust logic, Whackk, down came came the punitive leather sole again.
But, as if to solace her daughter, while at the same time teaching her the meaning of guilefully sadistic punishment, Mary Carruthers began to rub her daughter's stiffening little clit with rapid, rubbing touches of her fingertip, accompanying these with sly little prods and tweaks which sent the sweet pink nub disappearing into its hiding place only to bob out again more turgid than before. And these lascivious ticklings, together with the feverish heat of the spanking which now made poor Angela feel as if her naked behind was a single concentrated bed of hot coals, caused the nubile teenager to twist and arch her hips in the most scandalously lewd contortions, allowing her excited blonde mother to see the pink gape of her cunt.
"You are becoming unmanageable, young lady," her mother at last huskily declared, her narrowed blue eyes observing how Angela's scarlet-tinted hips weaved and jerked, rising and falling to the tempo of that insistently rasping fingertip. "I shall have to talk to your father about your naughtiness, Angela. Maybe he will want to send you away to a special school where the discipline is harsher than you've been accustomed to with the blessed sisters. Now, just to remind you never to lie again, my girl - there - and there - and there, will you stop making up wicked stories."
She punctuated this sermonizing discourse with emphatic, vigorous descents of the well worn slipper sole over the lower summits of Angela's already flaming buttocks, while at the same time speeding the friction of her hidden forefinger on the child's clitoris.
Despite her suffering, the girl was drawn inescapably towards climax. Her previous masturbations and then Father Edmund's frigging of her clit while taking the cherry of her maiden asshole had culminated in attuning her far beyond her tender years.
As Angela cried out hysterically under each sonorous spank, her lithe body threshed wildly about, and it seemed to her panting, excited blonde mother that those violently inflamed smooth buttocks were offering themselves more and more lewdly to the very next stroke of the vigorously down-sweeping sole. At the very last, the young girl threw back her head and exhaled a piercing, raucous cry, then sagged, her body jerking fitfully, bowing her head and bursting into frantic tears, a sign to Mary Carruthers that her beautiful young daughter had achieved a violent orgasm under the judiciously administered chastisement.
At once withdrawing her hand, she patted Angela's shoulder with it, and in a brusk voice, remarked, "Very well now, try to remember the lesson I tried to teach you, you wicked girl. Put your clothes back on. Go to your room. I'll bring your supper in on a tray after your father and I have had ours."
Broken by emotion, her bottom burning indescribably, Angela could only emit whimpering sobs as she frantically rubbed her swollen naked butt, heedless of her immodest exposure of that thickly fleeced virgin pussy and the tender insides of her twitching, lithe young thighs. At last, sniffling and rubbing her eyes with the back of one soft trembling hand, she very cautiously squatted down to slip her twisted panties completely off, since the thought of drawing them back up over her burning behind was intolerable. Then, still sniffling, her head bowed, she stumbled out of the kitchen to the safety of her own room.
Mary Carruthers uttered a long, shuddering sigh. Then, slyly, she half rose from her chair, pulled up her skirt and, sliding her right fore-finger under the waistband of her own white nylon panties, began to tickle the fleshy pink lips and the hardening bud of her well developed clit till, with a groan which she stifled with her other palm, she tasted release from the furious lustful emotions which her daughter's punishment had wakened in her own furiously ardent loins ...