Chapter 02

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Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1995-2009 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.

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Erin's Adventures
Chapter 02
It Had to Happen

(***, M/f, Intense, Teen caning)

A girl experiences her first caning. (Approximately 1,647 words. Originally published 1998-03.)

As I grew older my fear and dread of the cane did not lesson. I saw that it did no permanent injury to my brother, even when he was fiercely beaten several times for fighting at school, but I was still in awe of the marks it left. I did my best to be good, which wasn't saying much, for I had a short temper and an even shorter memory. I must have gotten the slipper every week or so as a child, and the older I became the longer and harder the slipperings became.

One day when I was ten years old I went off to play with some friends. It was a beautiful Saturday, and I was in the mood for adventure and fun. We had recently moved to a new neighborhood and I was wanting to impress my new friends, so the entire day I behaved rather recklessly and impulsively. I made rude jokes and insulted shopkeepers and generally made a royal ass of myself. The kids adored me, and thought I was cool. I remember wishing I could feel so envied all the time.

I did not come home at the time I had promised my mother I would. I was having too much fun. When I finally came home well after six o'clock Mum was waiting for me in front of the house.

"Where have you been, young lady!" she screamed. My face flushed and I scowled. I sensed my friends stopping and turning to watch. I was horribly embarrassed. This wasn't fair at all!

Mum began scolding me for being late and threatened me with a spanking. That did it. She was treating me like a baby, and here I was almost an adult. I told her to bug off, and I used a few words so choice that I didn't even know what they meant. I was still high from my exciting day and I wasn't thinking rationally.

Mum just stood there, jaw agap, and then pounced on me. I don't know how she moved so fast. Once second she was six feet away and the next she was dragging me into the house by my ear. I was screaming in protest and trying not think of my friends watching when she said something that chilled my blood and sobered me up real quick.

"You just wait until your father gets home, young lady! You're old enough for the cane now, and your father's going to give you six of the best! Now get inside and go to your room!"

It was as though a black cloud had settled over the world everything was dim. I forgot about my friends outside, I forgot about everything, and I fell to ground at my mother's feet and begged her not to tell Daddy. She literally dragged me inside. I couldn't stop crying. The horror of the cane petrified me. She couldn't be serious! Not the cane, surely not the cane!

Suddenly I had a brilliant idea. It was wild and unconventional, and it went against all my instincts, but I did it. I ran upstairs to my parents' room and found one of Mum's heavy slippers. I brought it back down to her, still crying and sniffling.

"Here, Mum," I said bravely, though I was very frightened. "I know I was bad. I won't do it again, I promise. Please slipper me."

Mum looked at me and her eyes softened a bit. Then her face grew hard. "Erin, my dear, you are a piece of work." With that she dragged me across her lap, flipped up my skirt and began to whale on my bottom with the slipper. It hurt very much and I wanted to struggle and run away but I knew I deserved it and I couldn't help but think how much better this was than the cane.

It was a long and painful slippering. Mum spanked all over my bottom. It felt like my bottom had swollen to double its normal size when she'd finished, as I stood crying and rubbing it. She made me go to the corner then, and "wait for your father."

I didn't know what to think about that. Was she still planning on having him cane me? Surely not!

It wasn't long before my father came home but it seemed like forever. When I saw him my heart leapt and dropped at the same time. He knew immediately what had happened.

"What did you do now, Peaches?" he asked, using the nickname he's called me since I was a baby.

"I came home late," I said. "Mummy slippered me good." I made a big show of wiping away my tears and pretending I was still sore.

Daddy clicked his tongue and shook his head. He went into the kitchen and I heard low voices rising and falling and intense words. A moment later he was back. "Go to my study, Erin."

My knees nearly buckled. "Oh, please Daddy! I--" I froze when I saw his face. I'd seen that face before. It haunted my dreams. It was his "Don't Argue With Me" face--a stubborn soldier's face, immovable, impassible, unchangeable.

My heart dragging on the floor, I obeyed. There was no getting out of it. I stood in my father's study--normally a place I loved to visit as it was warm and cozy and crowded with papers and books and items--and I was terrified. I could hear my father's heavy footsteps echoing faintly around the house as he changed clothes and all too soon his feet approached the study door.

"All right, Peaches, let's get this over with." Daddy came in and without glancing at me went straight for the cupboard where I knew he kept his canes--three of them, long and fearsome. He took out one--the shortest one, thank God--and approached me.

"Your mother has told me what you did and said, and I must say, I am very disappointed in you. It's one thing to behave childishly and irresponsibily, but it's quite another to be arrogant and rude about it. That is why you are to be caned, Erin. You are growing up. Your attitude must be kept in check or you shall turn into a horrible brat of a child." He paused. "Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Daddy," I sobbed. "Please, I'm very sorry. It won't happen again."

"I know it won't, dear. Now be brave. This won't take but a minute. A canning is very different from a slippering. There is no one to hold you in place and keep you from squirming. You must hold yourself still and steady and ask for each stroke. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now bend over. I shall lift up your skirt, like so, but since this is your first time I will not take down your knickers."

"Thank you, Daddy."

"Keep yourself stretched tight--that's it. Good girl. When you are to be caned this is the position you must take. Remember it, for in the future your punishment will be worse if you do not cooperate. Now ask for the first stroke."

"Oh, Daddy, please!"

"Come on, girl. Ask for it."

I took a deep breath and wetted my lips. My body was taut and I was terrified. My head was down near my knees and I could not see anything, though I sensed my father behind me, ready to hurt me terribly. "Please, sir, may I have the first stroke?"

There was a light swish, far softer than I would have thought. Something bit into my butt then, and I forgot everything. The pain was red hot, blindingly hot. I howled and tears burst from my eyes. I must have gone running around the room because the next thing I remember was my father, pulling me away from the door and making me get in position again.

"Do that again and the stroke will not count!" snapped my father, very angry. I glanced back at him and saw he was legitimately upset, and I felt bad. Though I didn't want to all, I got in position and politely said, "Please, may I have the second stroke?"

This time I heard the CRACK as the cane sliced into me. The white hot pain was unbearable, especially to one so young. I sobbed and screamed, but I did not get up. I stayed down. It must have been a minute before I was calm enough to talk. "Number three, please."

This time I was ready for it. I knew what to expect. But it blew me away. The pain was so sharp it surpassed everything I had ever known. It made me sick to my stomach just thinking of how badly it hurt. I imagined the weals across my arse and I shivered. "N-number four, please," I said in a tiny voice.

The answering CRACK took my breath away. I was weeping full-time now, unable to stand still, though I did not get up. This last blow was very low, striking near my thighs, and it especially hurt my right cheek. A certain spot throbbed and my whole arse ached.

"You may stand up, Erin," said the voice. I could scarcely believe it was true.

"T-that's it?" I said. "Four strokes?"

"Do you want more?"

"No! I mean, er, no, sir. I will be a good girl from now on."

"I know you will be. You _are_ a good girl."

My father hugged me then, and after kissing my forehead he put the cane away and left. I stood without moving for several minutes. My bottom was sore but bearable. My hand trembled when I held it up. I was shaking all over. I couldn't believe I had survived my first caning.

More to come next week!

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