If you want her to parry, you have to train her

She was fifteen when she was picked up by the police. She had run away from home and she had really screwed up. The verdict was harsh, but there was a way out. Her uncle offered her a training position in his company. And under his cane she changed from girl to woman.

Their home was not a place a teenager should be raised. There was no supervision here. She just kind of grew up and dreamed of a better future. Meanwhile, her mother led a life between liquor, beer and wine, while her father fucked himself through the neighborhood and was rarely at home.

Patrizia never received a proper upbringing. There was no one who really cared about her. No one to obey. No one to set rules for her. No mother who looked after her and kept her on the right path and no father who punished her and for whom she had respect. No adult to look out for her and keep her from falling into the wrong company.

But there was a friend who cared about her. He was significantly older than her, but he gave her the guidance she craved. He appreciated the young girl who obeyed his every word. He was the one she opened her legs for. The first time rather fearful, but then greedy for love or what she thought was love. She was fucked a lot during this time. What man doesn't have fun with a teenager who is curious about life and still has so much to learn?

In the end, fifteen-year-old Patrizia ran away from home. She simply packed up her few belongings and moved in with the man of her dreams. Without looking back, because there was nothing to grieve about. But with butterflies in her stomach and the feeling that she had found true love.

But things changed. At some point she found herself in the middle of the wrong company. She smoked weed like everyone else. She took Chrystal Meth when there was a big rave party on Saturday. But at some point her boyfriend demanded something in return for taking care of her. She was supposed to smuggle drugs for him. A naive girl who had to prove her love. A drug mule who was careless...

...and got caught.

It was a routine case for the police. Patrizia was arrested and ended up in the cell. She was interrogated and, frightened, admitted everything. She had no idea what the consequences of her actions would be. And she was convinced that her boyfriend would get her out of the mess. But he never showed up again and what had to happen simply happened. She met an annoyed judge and was sentenced to spend three years behind locked doors.

But she was lucky, even if she didn't see it that way at first. The tide turned and everything turned out completely differently. Her father had a brother and he suddenly appeared and took care of the pretty young girl. He suggested that she could do an apprenticeship. She would be in good hands with him in the company he owned. And she could live with him and his family, because where she came from would definitely not be the right place for her.

She agreed because the choice between prison and work was easy for her. The sentence was reduced to probation and her uncle took over the role that would have been her father's job. However, she knew that one relapse was enough and she would actually have to serve her youth sentence.

Her uncle was completely different from her father. He was a man of principles. He told her clearly what she should and shouldn't do. And He determined that there were things in her life for which she needed his express permission. He even told her how she should dress and shopping in the city only took place in the presence of his wife, whom she addressed as aunt. She saw it as the price she had to pay to escape the otherwise inevitable juvenile prison.

One evening her uncle called her to his office. He looked serious and pointed out a wrongdoing she had committed during the day. Her aunt had assigned her a task and she had failed to do what was expected of her. “Sit down,” was his command, and she knew she had a problem. He had never spoken to her in that tone before.

It was at this moment that Patrizia noticed what was lying on the desk warningly. It was a traditional cane, a finger thick and about a meter long. It just lay there and magically attracted her gaze.

She had never been beaten. At least not real hard. Mother had occasionally given her a few rough slaps on the bottom, and she had received one or two slaps in the face from her father. But now, for the first time, she felt a sense of fear. Something in her stomach knotted. Her buttocks twitched imperceptibly without her meaning to. After all, a cane was something completely different than a slap in the face or a few blows with the palm of your hand.

A detailed sermon followed. Her uncle made it clear to her that she lived in his house and therefore had to follow his rules. He listed again what she was allowed to do, what she wasn't allowed to do and what she had to ask permission for. His word was her law, was the message. And that also applied to her aunt to the same extent.

“If she tells you to take the laundry out of the washing machine and hang it out to dry, then you do that. Not at some point, but immediately. If she wants you to help her in the kitchen, you drop everything and follow her instructions. Are we clear?"

She wasn't really free as long as she lived with her uncle. Patrizia was more than aware of that. But her life in her uncle's house was still better than having to endure three years in juvenile prison.

“Take a close look at it, Patrizia,” were her uncle’s words. He had stood up and was looking down at her. He held the dreaded cane in his hand and once again caused that previously unexperienced wave of fear that made her body tremble.

“I promise you, if I hear another complaint about you again, you will feel it. Now go to your room. You won’t leave it until dinner.”

With that he left the room, and the reprimanded girl made her way upstairs to her room that would be her home for the next few years.

But Patrizia grew up without rules and found it difficult to be told what to do and what not to do. She was now sixteen and felt more like a woman than ever. After all, she had already felt a man inside her and knew all too well what sex feels like. She therefore disliked being treated like a little girl in her uncle's house and the more she thought about it, the more she missed the freedom that she had enjoyed during her past life. The freedom to go to the disco and dance the night away. The freedom to take drugs and feel wonderfully horny afterwards. The freedom of having a husband and getting fucked just about every day.

Because Patrizia was extremely pretty, the young men in her uncle's company naturally became aware of her over time. She was courted and she liked it. She received little gifts and was happy about it. She became friends with a colleague who was also doing an apprenticeship and was not much older than she was. She met after work for afterwork hour. She enjoyed her little freedoms, for which she had dutifully obtained permission.

Until that Saturday night when the band that was at the top of her favorites list was in town. Patrizia was filled with joy when she received permission to attend the popular concert. But she must have ignored the restriction that her uncle had made as a condition. “You’ll be home at eleven sharp,” were his words, but they didn’t reach her consciousness because her joy and anticipation had overwhelmed her.

And so it happened that it was well after midnight when sixteen-year-old Patrizia finally came home. The house was dark, she noticed with horror, and it was only then that she really realized that she was way past her deadline and had a problem.

She quietly crept into the house. Nothing moved when she finally reached her room. Everyone was asleep, she realized with some relief. But she had a restless night and opened her eyes early Sunday morning. Would there be consequences for being late? Did they even notice that it was already past midnight when she finally quietly opened the front door? Maybe she was lucky, she told herself. Maybe her uncle had gone to bed early and didn't know when his foster daughter had come home. Maybe …

She got up and went to the bathroom to relieve herself. When she returned, she opened the curtains to let in the morning sun. When she turned around, she was startled.

She saw it immediately. The dreaded cane was lying on a small sideboard right next to her bed - as thick as a finger and almost a meter long. All her hopes of a happy outcome to her night's crime were erased from her memory in an instant. The brutal reality took hold of her. It became crystal clear to her that she had broken a clear rule. Her misstep had not gone unnoticed. She would feel the cane.

Patrizia hid under her blanket. She was afraid. For a moment she thought about leaving the house. The young colleague had clearly shown his interest in her. Maybe she should just run away from home a second time. What was supposed to happen?

A lot could happen. Her uncle knew who she was at the concert with. He could look for her. He could call around until he knew where she was. He was even able to alert the police because, after all, she was still underage. And it was precisely this thought that stopped her in her tracks. What the police knew, also the judge would know sooner or later, she concluded. And he would simply find that she had violated her probation and carry out the original sentence.

But Patrizia was unable to finish her thoughts. She heard footsteps outside the door. The inevitable began. Her uncle stood under the doorframe and looked at the disobedient girl silently and reproachfully. He continued to say nothing. With one step he was next to her bed and with a jerk he had pulled the protective blanket off her body. It was summer and as always she was wearing only a thin nightgown. But now she felt like she was virtually naked.

Her uncle looked down at her silently. Of course, he realized once again that he was dealing with an extremely pretty girl. For a moment he also thought that it wasn't his daughter, but his brother’s. But he very quickly put away his male instincts. This little girl was nothing but a whore who should have received a real beating by her father long ago. But her father couldn't control his urges and had ran away from his alcoholic wife to satisfy his desires elsewhere.

It took only two steps and he was at the head of Patrizia's bed. The ornate headboard made of shiny gold brass was ideal for a teenage girl's room. His daughter, who was now studying in Tübingen, lived here until a few months ago. She was a girl a father could be proud of, and he was convinced that it was his cane that had played a crucial role in ensuring that she graduated from high school with top grades and was now on her way to a great future.

There was a phase when he had to punish his girl again and again and the two leather cuffs that were attached to the metal of the headboard of her bed came from exactly this time. Patrizia probably hadn't even noticed them yet. But she would soon have to realize that they existed and what they were there for.

"Turn over on your stomach," were the only words he uttered. He waited until she slowly and hesitantly complied with his request. He then roughly grabbed her left wrist and a few moments later it was pinned to the head of the bed. He did the same with his right hand. And looked down at her with satisfaction. Her nightgown had ridden up slightly, exposing much of her thighs. He considered tying her legs too, but then decided not to. It was an arousing sight to him when a girl wriggles wildly while one welt after the other appeared on her buttocks.

A tug on her nightgown was enough and her bottom was fully exposed. That's exactly how he wanted her. Lying on her stomach, her buttocks were not tense and the stick would hit elastic, soft flesh, which ideally absorbed the force of each blow.

He knew she had never felt the cane and he was determined to make sure she would remember his handwriting for a lifetime.

Patrizia followed his every action, trembling, as he grabbed the cane. He let the hard yet flexible wood hiss through the air once or twice, grinning in satisfaction as he noticed her instinctively squeezing her buttocks with each sound.

The first blow felt like a knife cut. Patrizia felt as if her bottom was being cut in two. She screamed loudly and uninhibitedly. Her legs began to kick uncontrollably as she reared up, using all her strength to absorb the unexpectedly painful blow. This was different from mother's flat hand and that wasn't just because she was naked up to her belly button and there was absolutely nothing to dampen the force of the blow.

She regretted her recklessness in not being home at the agreed time last night. She deeply regretted it, but she knew it wouldn't make any difference now.

The second blow seemed even harder and penetrated deep into her body. Years ago, a cane like was used in every school. She had read about girls who were sent home in pain, only to receive a beating with their father's leather strap in addition to the cane. How could a girl endure that?

Patrizia screamed so that it could be heard throughout the house. Her buttocks twitched and her whole body was a sea of pain. At some point she no longer noticed the individual blows. All she felt was a burning fire, her uncle saw that she lost all control of her body and wet the bed. But he didn't stop until she reached the crucial point. Until her initial screaming had turned into a helpless whimper. Until the first words came from her lips and she begged for forgiveness. Until he was convinced that she had learned her lesson and would be the most obedient girl on earth, at least for a while.

He swung the cane three more times and then let go of her.

Then he freed her from her bonds and left the twitching and howling woman to fend for herself.

"Breakfast will be served in an hour. You're grounded for the rest of the week," he said before leaving the room.