While I, more and more intrigued, was watching and thinking, Dawn's Dad had started to whip in earnest. He was swatting different parts of Dawn's bottom with each solid belt swat. The broad, thick leather flattened the bottom cheeks each time they hit them. Then a flurry of biting licks down lower on each bum cheek, then on the top part of her bottom. Soon, the strict man was whipping the very lowest part of poor Dawn's bottom and then the very tops of her thighs. There was no particular order or rhythm that I could see; he was just tanning every part of Dawn's cute, tender rear that by now surely had to sting unbearably.
Dawn wasn't quiet while her whipping was going on. At first, she was yelping each time her Father's belt landed on her bottom. I could hear some frantic pleading going on as well. As the severe punishment progressed, her cries blended together until she was just bawling her eyes out.
Before my astonished eyes, Dawn's bottom was undergoing an interesting transformation. What had started as a creamy white, in sharp contrast to her tan legs, had turned first pink, then red, then scarlet, and now her rear was covered with puffy, painful-looking, cherry-red, broad stripes overlapping.
After what seemed like a long time to me and that must have seemed like an eternity to Dawn, the merciless whipping finally stopped. But Dawn just kept lying there and crying.
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