Fiction for adults only


    It was cool and dusky inside the Gypsy woman's tent  and  Lily  was
mesmerized by the sweet incense smell and the delicious tickle of the
small paint brush stroking her tingling skin.
    She was half bent over a large chair with her skirt held up and one
side of her panties tucked into her bottom cleft so that one pale
peachy rump cheek was exposed. Lily felt naughty and nervous and
thrilled as the Gypsy was slowly, carefully painting a butteryfly henna
tattoo on Lily's goosebumped flesh.
    The illicit act and voluntary exposure made Lily's heart beat
faster as the feathery licks of the paintbrush on her bare bottom sent
shivers up and down the teens quivering legs.

    For hours after, Lily could still remember the soft touches and she
loved picturing the scandalous butterfly hidden beneath her panties. 
She feared she shouldn't,  but her secret was too rich and, after all,
what good is a tattoo unless someone else see's it?, so Lily  shocked
her younger sister by showing off her new on-the-butt-butterfly.

    Younger sister fled the room in shame,  spouting "Father hates 
tattoos..."   as  Lily tried to stop her,  pleading, "Don't, don't,
it's not real it's not real...."   but  the butterfly WAS
real...perched on Lily's little bottom.
    Minutes later,  angry Father storms into the room,  evil thick
black strap dangling from his hand, the firey tongue of Lily's real
life nightmares....

    Lily groans as she's thrown across his lap, gasping for breath to 
EXPLAIN, but Father beats her too it as he yanks down her skirt and
panties and exclaims,  "Your sister told me but I didn't believe
her....you know how I hate tattoos and I know how you hate the strap."
    "But.."  the leather cut off Lily's excuse with a sharp SLAP and
then another and another so hard and fast that Lily could hardly catch
a breath let alone explain herself and only 6 strap licks left the girl
gasping in pain.
    CRACK SMACK  Lily's bubble butt bounced and twisted under the
relentless strap strap strapping which left white bands of sting that
turned into red bands of burn that overlapped and left her bawling like
a baby.

    Long gone was the thrill from the light, lucious trails of delicate
paintbrush strokes which teased one bare cheek of her bottom,  now both
bare cheeks were being whipped raw by rough leather and she was
screaming instead of sighing...
    Once the strap stopped strapping, and Lily completed her
humiliating half naked dance,  finally struggling enought breath, she
panted,  
     "Oh...oh...god ...it's  not real  it's not real....my butterfly
will be gone in a few days!...ow ow ow ow...."

    "I know," Father snapped,  "so will your strap welts."

    Later, her back facing the big mirror, staring at her bright red
strap marks covering her light brown henna butterfly,  Lily felt
bittersweet and wondered which would fade first?