yummygal
Onlooker
'Julie's Knickers'
I hate my step-father, Ted. He is a bastard and I hope he dies a horrible death.
Many fantasies of his demise one day I will make a reality.
"Julie, get down here. Its time for your checkup," he yells from downstairs as I'm finishing my readying for school. "You better not be wearing shorts," he shouts.
I can feel the grimy smile on his rotten face as he calls this to me.
I finish tying my black and white saddle shoes - all part of my Catholic school attire.
I hate Catholic School. The boys are allowed to act like such idiots and pigs.
They disrespect us girls. They all too often grab or slap our buttocks or grab our breasts while the teachers aren't looking. The stupid teachers don't care anyways even if they catch them in the act.
They just yell at them. The boys just laugh about it.
One time while standing in line, a boy crawled underneath me and grabbed my heels so he could look up my skirt and hold me in place while he got a good long look. I tried to break free of his grip but realized if I struggled too much I'd fall flat on my face. While he looked up my skirt and ogled my bare legs and white cotton panties another boy held me from behind whilst gripping onto my breasts. My friends are too scared this will happen to them if they try to intercede so they did nothing. I ended up crying that day. My mother didn't seem to care much when I told her. All she cares about is pleasing the Ted Beast, the bloody git.
I make my way down the stairs dreading another 'inspection' from this asshole prick.
He sits on the couch waiting for me with that look of perverted anticipation he always has when he's about to inspect me. He glares at my bare legs as I walk down the stairs. What a sick wanker.
"You know the drill," he says.
Yes, I know the drill. 'The drill', as he calls it is me turning my back to him so that he can lift up my skirt and check that I am wearing regulation knickers and not shorts.
The dress code at school only allows white cotton briefs. No shorts, no boxers, we can't even wear boy shorts.
I turn around and pull up my skirt. I roll my eyes. I ready myself for Ted's lustful hands.
"Ah-hah!", he exclaimed. "Boy-shorts! You're really in for it now."
In a sudden fury, he jumped up off the couch and grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me with him down into the basement.
"What is he going to do with me?" I wondered.
He pulled me towards my mother's dance pole. She keeps herself fit and often does strip-teases and pole-dances for him. What a dirty slut my mother is.
Out of the desk drawer he pulls out a pair of handcuffs. I cringe with horror realizing what he might have planned. He fastens the cuffs to my wrists so that I am cuffed to the pole.
Then he heads back and reaches deep into the same drawer and pulls out a long single-tail whip and another pair of handcuffs.
Oh shit. What a nutter!
He fastens the second pair of cuffs tightly to my ankles and around the pole so that I am completely helpless. He stands up, menacing me with the whip in his hand, pointing it at me. "You're in for it this time, young lady," he threatens.
I look at him in horror and disbelief. My mouth dry, my heart racing.
He walks behind me and reaches around me to unbutton my skirt. I feel his big manly hands grope around my waist in search of the button. He finds it and undoes it. My skirt falls to the ground. Then with one hard yank, pulls down my non-regulation boy-short panties.
I stand there half naked. My legs and buttocks are completely bare.
Now I am really afraid.
"Please don't do this," I plead.
Crack!
A sharp pain. He just lashed me with the whip on my bare buttocks.
Crack!
Another. I squirm. Oh my god, this really hurts!
"Stop!", I yell at him, hoping he will stop.
Instead he just laughs. "Ha-ha, shut up, you insubordinate little slut."
Crack!
Another whip lash digs into my bare buttocks.
"Ouwww..." I begin to whine, "please stop. I'm sorry, it was an accident. Mom hasn't washed all my white panties yet."
"Why are you wearing boy shorts anyway? Why can't you dress like a lady should?"
Crack!
Pain.
"...and why do you need your mother to wash your clothes for you?"
Crack!
More pain.
"Aren't you old enough to do your own wash?"
Crack!
Another sharp pain. I struggle with the handcuffs but it is ridiculously useless. They're locked. Nothing can shield me from the painful crack of this cruel man's whip.
Crack!
"Pleaassssee! Stop!! It hurts too much!"
My pleading is all in vain.
Crack!
"Aaaaaw! I hate you!!!"
I hate my step-father, Ted. He is a bastard and I hope he dies a horrible death.
Many fantasies of his demise one day I will make a reality.
"Julie, get down here. Its time for your checkup," he yells from downstairs as I'm finishing my readying for school. "You better not be wearing shorts," he shouts.
I can feel the grimy smile on his rotten face as he calls this to me.
I finish tying my black and white saddle shoes - all part of my Catholic school attire.
I hate Catholic School. The boys are allowed to act like such idiots and pigs.
They disrespect us girls. They all too often grab or slap our buttocks or grab our breasts while the teachers aren't looking. The stupid teachers don't care anyways even if they catch them in the act.
They just yell at them. The boys just laugh about it.
One time while standing in line, a boy crawled underneath me and grabbed my heels so he could look up my skirt and hold me in place while he got a good long look. I tried to break free of his grip but realized if I struggled too much I'd fall flat on my face. While he looked up my skirt and ogled my bare legs and white cotton panties another boy held me from behind whilst gripping onto my breasts. My friends are too scared this will happen to them if they try to intercede so they did nothing. I ended up crying that day. My mother didn't seem to care much when I told her. All she cares about is pleasing the Ted Beast, the bloody git.
I make my way down the stairs dreading another 'inspection' from this asshole prick.
He sits on the couch waiting for me with that look of perverted anticipation he always has when he's about to inspect me. He glares at my bare legs as I walk down the stairs. What a sick wanker.
"You know the drill," he says.
Yes, I know the drill. 'The drill', as he calls it is me turning my back to him so that he can lift up my skirt and check that I am wearing regulation knickers and not shorts.
The dress code at school only allows white cotton briefs. No shorts, no boxers, we can't even wear boy shorts.
I turn around and pull up my skirt. I roll my eyes. I ready myself for Ted's lustful hands.
"Ah-hah!", he exclaimed. "Boy-shorts! You're really in for it now."
In a sudden fury, he jumped up off the couch and grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me with him down into the basement.
"What is he going to do with me?" I wondered.
He pulled me towards my mother's dance pole. She keeps herself fit and often does strip-teases and pole-dances for him. What a dirty slut my mother is.
Out of the desk drawer he pulls out a pair of handcuffs. I cringe with horror realizing what he might have planned. He fastens the cuffs to my wrists so that I am cuffed to the pole.
Then he heads back and reaches deep into the same drawer and pulls out a long single-tail whip and another pair of handcuffs.
Oh shit. What a nutter!
He fastens the second pair of cuffs tightly to my ankles and around the pole so that I am completely helpless. He stands up, menacing me with the whip in his hand, pointing it at me. "You're in for it this time, young lady," he threatens.
I look at him in horror and disbelief. My mouth dry, my heart racing.
He walks behind me and reaches around me to unbutton my skirt. I feel his big manly hands grope around my waist in search of the button. He finds it and undoes it. My skirt falls to the ground. Then with one hard yank, pulls down my non-regulation boy-short panties.
I stand there half naked. My legs and buttocks are completely bare.
Now I am really afraid.
"Please don't do this," I plead.
Crack!
A sharp pain. He just lashed me with the whip on my bare buttocks.
Crack!
Another. I squirm. Oh my god, this really hurts!
"Stop!", I yell at him, hoping he will stop.
Instead he just laughs. "Ha-ha, shut up, you insubordinate little slut."
Crack!
Another whip lash digs into my bare buttocks.
"Ouwww..." I begin to whine, "please stop. I'm sorry, it was an accident. Mom hasn't washed all my white panties yet."
"Why are you wearing boy shorts anyway? Why can't you dress like a lady should?"
Crack!
Pain.
"...and why do you need your mother to wash your clothes for you?"
Crack!
More pain.
"Aren't you old enough to do your own wash?"
Crack!
Another sharp pain. I struggle with the handcuffs but it is ridiculously useless. They're locked. Nothing can shield me from the painful crack of this cruel man's whip.
Crack!
"Pleaassssee! Stop!! It hurts too much!"
My pleading is all in vain.
Crack!
"Aaaaaw! I hate you!!!"
