Catch and Release Part One: Naomi Tends To Masturbate After Getting Spanked; Her Parents Take This In Stride

Note Concerning Content Tags: Arguably this story could have the nonconsent tag applied as it refers to off-camera rapes in the news that will later be a central part of the narrative as the series progresses. The events depicted in this particular story however don't quite reach the level of nonconsent, and are instead participated in only very unexpectedly and reluctantly by the submissive party.

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Naomi smirked as she read the newest comment on her story.

Catch and Release are real. You are writing about real things that happen to real people. That is sick!

“Sick?” she replied, fingers swiftly tapping out the words. “Did you not check the name of the website before you came here? Get off your high horse.”

She only hesitated for a second before adding with a quiet chuckle “(Better yet, get on a wooden one and stay there.)”

It wasn’t that she wrote the most extreme content on depravity.net, not by a long shot. The “problem” was that she was writing stories about an actual pair of serial rapists who were at this very moment at large, victimizing women across the country.

The nicknames they gave themselves were Catch and Release, and true to their names that was exactly what they did to their prey. Every few months one of their victims would turn up, naked, bruised, traumatized, in some random location usually several states away from her home. Then a few days later, in yet another distant random location, another young woman would disappear. Catch. Release. Rinse repeat.

Naomi enjoyed fantasizing about what happened to girls captured by the pair. And she enjoyed writing her fantasies out. She never wrote about any actual victims. And she was careful to insist her stories should be treated as fantasy only. If C&R were ever caught, she’d be the first to call for their permanent imprisonment at the very least. She made that clear at the top of each story. But the controversy persisted. She felt a bit of pride at that.

Her reverie was broken by the sound of her mother’s voice calling “Naomi, can you please come see your father and I in the dining room?” Her mother’s tone was carefully neutral but Naomi’s stomach sank a little because more often than not, that particular request led to no fun for her.

***

We will not presently follow her into the dining room. All you need to know at this point is that from the dining room could be heard calm but stern words from Naomi’s mom and dad, mentions of grades and housework, and then an alarmingly long series of slapping noises punctuating the sound of Naomi whimpering, then crying, growing quiet during brief pauses, then redoubling the volume of her yelps when the swatting noises would continue.

***

Eventually Naomi returned. Sobbing, she closed the door behind her. After a few seconds leaning back against it, she turned and carefully, quietly locked her doorknob. She then tried the door several times, pulling at it and attempting to turn the knob.

Satisfied, she then began gingerly slipping her pants off her reddened legs. Then her underwear, her shirt, her bra—sniffling all the while.

Climbing up onto her bed, she straddled a pillow. She arranged herself so that she could see, in a mirror in front of her, the stripes on her bottom reflected in a mirror on the wall opposite.

Gazing at those stripes, she began thrusting her pussy back and forth across the pillow. Sobs soon morphed into a strained silence as she tried to keep quiet while fucking it. After several minutes, her pelvis continuing to almost involuntarily drag back and forth, she reached frantically into a drawer nearby and pulled out two binder clips. She gingerly clamped these to the bases of her nipples, wincing. Then she bounced gently on her knees. With each bounce of her tits, she quietly hissed.

Just as the hisses began to turn into squeaks, she fell back to her position on hands and knees again, finally  continuing to rub one out on her pillow. She reached that point of tense desperation that meant she would be finished soon.

But suddenly before she could reach her goal, she froze up, then rolled over, shielding her tits from view. Behind her the door had suddenly opened. Her mother walked in, took one look at Naomi’s flailing, and began laughing. “Again?!”

***

“Mom how? I locked it! I know I did!” Naomi desperately reached for her pants and shirt on the floor.

“Naomi stay still!” mom said in that quick commanding tone that Naomi knew meant she would be obeying, no matter what. She sat on her bed in mid-reach, freezing in place naked in front of her mom.

“Honey!” Her mom called into the other room.” “Come look at Naomi.”

Naomi hissed “No mom, what are you doing? Please let me put clothes on first?”

Too late, her dad walked in. He too chuckled and said “Again?”

This was the third time her parents had caught her masturbating after a spanking. Each and every time Naomi had been sure she locked her door. She had checked and double checked. Yet somehow she was wrong every time, and her parents were able to just waltz right in.

“I didn’t,” she blushed. “I mean it wasn’t because… you….”

“Because we spanked you?” her mom said. “I don’t know Nay, there seems to be a clear pattern developing.” She looked over at her husband who nodded in confirmation.

Still in her frozen position she asked again, “Please may I put on my clothes and… and take these off?” She cried, indicating the clamps on her nipples with her chin as best she could without moving too much.

“No,” said her mom. “Not yet. First you’re going to show your Dad what you were doing.”

Naomi looked up in shock. Her dad was leaning on the doorjamb grinning. Her mom was removing her belt. “What?” Naomi gawped.

Mom wielded the belt. “No hesitating, I want your father to see for himself. Words… don’t do justice to what I just saw.”

Naomi still hesitated. Mom cracked the belt against the wall, “Do it!”

Finally startled out of her noncompliance Naomi breathed rapidly and with a quick “yes ma’am!” she climbed up onto her pillow. She straddled it, cringing in her nudity, facing her parents with her arms gingerly covering her clamped tits as best she could. She couldn’t bear to look up at their faces as she sat bowed over on her knees.

“Not even close!” her mom laughed. “I want to see you doing exactly what I saw you doing.”

Naomi whimpered, “What do you mean?”

Mom cracked the belt on the bed. “You weren’t just sitting still for one thing, and you’re facing completely the wrong way.”

Naomi begged her mother with her eyes to no avail. She lost it a little, and started wailing as she turned around, and got on her hands and knees, displaying her ass and pussy to her own dad. And she knew she had to fully comply—her mom had already showed restraint compared to past instances of hesitation and disobedience. And so she began moving back and forth, the front of her vulva making contact with the pillow, her clit feeling the rub.

“There,” said her mom. “Are you seeing this?”

Her dad’s voice: “Oh I’m seeing it.”

Naomi paused and now her dad was the one to issue a command. “Don’t stop until we tell you too.”

Naomi kept going.

She could not see her parents behind her, they were out of view of the mirror. After what felt like a very long time of stroking herself in front of them, she risked asking. “When will I be able to stop?”

Mom said, “Well, you’re masturbating sweetheart. You’ll stop when you’re finished masturbating.”

Naomi realized only then how far this was going to go.

“I… I don’t think I can do that.”

“Stop.” Dad’s abrupt voice.

Naomi froze.

“Encouragement,” was all he said before Naomi heard the whoosh and felt the belt on her ass.

She jumped, yelped, cried in shock. Never, ever before had her parents hit her bare skin. She had never felt this level of sharp stinging from a single blow.

And there immediately came another. She cried out desperately and obscenely wiggled her hips up and down, back and forth, trying to avoid the next blow. “Staaaahhhppp” she yelled, all wisdom flown away for the moment.

“Be still,” said her mom, and Naomi found control as her dad landed another blow, and then another.

“Last one” he muttered as the fifth and hardest stripe came down. Naomi tried to hold it in but couldn’t: She wept.

Over her tears, her mom said “So that either turned you on, or let you know a bit of what’s in store if you don’t do as we say. I don’t know which. Probably both. But either way, keep going right. Now.”

Still weeping, Naomi complied. She was afraid to feel more of the belt on her bare skin.

And yet also, her picturing the contact of the belt, the resulting stripes on bare skin, was quite similar to standard masturbation imaginings. She could not help it if mixed with her fear there was a more positive motivation presented by these images as well.

She was able, after a while, not to forget her parents were there, but to put that aside as just another fact, like the fact that her walls were painted pink. She brought herself to the brink. She was about to finish and it would be over and she was promising herself she’d never masturbate after a spanking ever again if this was to be the result.

“Stop.” Just on the brink of orgasm, Naomi froze, and despite herself, moaned, loudly, in sexual frustration. In front her parents.

“You’re going to finish what you started,” said her mom, “very soon. But first I’m going to spank you some more. Ten swats this time.”

“Why-y-y-y?” yelled Naomi. “What did I do-o-o-o?”

“Nothing whatsoever,” was the reply. “I’m just showing you who’s in charge.”

“I don’t under—” Naomi began but her mom’s first blow landed and Naomi was lost.

***

Up and down her legs and ass the ten blows rained. Mom wasn’t as strong as dad but she knew her angles. The tender skin of her left inner thigh received two deft hits among the ten, and Naomi felt the pain might simply last forever.

Finally the ten were over and her dad said “Alright, now keep going.”

Taking just a second to comprehend the command, Naomi gingerly humped her pillow once more. Each movement now sent waves of ache through her ass and legs. Added to the now impossibly sharp agony in her nipples, these sensations had as much to do with her rapidly approaching orgasm as the clit rubbing did.

So, she came. As she came, her parents both clapped. “There you go!” they laughed.

***

Naomi fell over, unable to keep balance as her muscles tensed up. She grunted out possibly the hardest orgasm she’d ever had as her parents continued laughing and somehow both cheering and jeering at the same time.

As she slowly was able to relax, she lay on her side and started gingerly reaching for the clamps on her nipples.

“Nuh uh” Mom said as though scolding a puppy. “Lay on your back, hands by your sides.”

“Mom!” Naomi protested. But she did as she was told. Her mom approached, and before Naomi knew what was happening her mom grabbed each clamp in a hand and loosened them and removed them in very short order.

“Nononono… uuuhh….” And then Naomi basically screamed. And writhed. Naked in her bed in front of mom and dad.

Mom handed the clamps over to dad, then whispered something to him, said out loud to Naomi as she continued rolling back and forth in nipple pain, “Be right back sweetie” and left.

Under her dad’s gaze, as the sharpness of the pain receded somewhat, Naomi slowly calmed herself. She arose to a sitting position,not knowing what to do with herself. She stared longingly at her clothes on the floor.

“Naomi, baby girl, come here.”

***

Naomi steeled herself for whatever torment might come next.

“Not going to hurt you, that’s done for now. Just come on over.”

Naomi stood up, hunched over, her arms across her chest. She expected him to tell her to stand up straight or some bullshit but he didn’t. He just gestured her over.

She walked towards him, and as she neared him he reached out to her shoulders and pulled her in.

Her arms still folded between them, he embraced her for several seconds.

“I know that was hard for you.”

Naomi sobbed. She opened her arms and put them around her dad, and he pulled her a little tighter. She may never forgive him for the day’s events but if his sympathy meant she might get relief, she was willing to reciprocate a hug at least.

As they embraced and she cried into his arm, she could feel him. He wasn’t moving in any obscene way but she could feel what he was experiencing down there. Mid sob she stopped and stepped back.

Telling herself not to look down, she looked down and saw. In horror she whispered, “Dad…”

He gently raised her chin up. “I know, I didn’t mean that. Nature does what it will.” He then leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I’m really proud of you for making it through all this so far.”

…so far…

***

Then Mom’s chipper, wry voice in the doorway: “Proud. He’s proud of you.”

Naomi instinctively backed away from her dad as Mom entered. She held out a piece of clothing to Naomi. “Put this on and wash your face, then come see us in the dining room. We have some stuff for you to sign.” She winked and turned and left.

Naomi’s heart sunk yet again. “Stuff to sign” was a big fucking deal in this household. She looked at Dad helplessly as he followed his wife out of the room. He reached out and placed a hand on Naomi’s shoulder as he passed, but gave no sign of responding to her silent plea as he left.

Once they were gone she closed the door and locked it. She tested it again, from both inside and out. That fucker was fully locked. What the hell?

She looked at the shirt mom had handed her—one of dad’s long sleeve button ups.

She put on her bra. Then her underwear. Then the shirt. Pants? As deeply as she wanted to cover up, she even more desperately did not want to have fabric rubbing against the entire stretch of leg and ass that her parents had so recently set on fire. Thus pantsless, she exited her room to face the music.

And as she got dressed, and exited, and walked slowly down the hallway to the dining room, she thought up at least three ideas for her next Catch and Release story. They just came to her.

In a way it was nice. She felt productive. Drained, devastated, humiliated, tormented, and  productive.