Chapter 30

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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 30
More Miss Arler

(*****, F/ff, f/f, ff/F, Edgy, Teen discipline)

Two naughty girls are severely punished. (Approximately 3,032 words. Originally published 1998-02.)

Jessie's face was pale and frightened, but she watched me undress without hesitation and did the same for herself. When we were both naked again, our bottoms still throbbing, Miss Arler focused her attention upon Jessie.

"What is your name?"

"J-Jessie, ma'am."

"Good. Now I assume you know why you are here? You have been a very naughty girl."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now I haven't spanked you yet, so please, come over here and get across my lap."

With a blink or two at me, Jessie walked forward and laid herself across the woman's lap. Jessie's bare bottom looked painfully exposed when she was in that position, her arms reaching toward the floor to brace herself.

Miss Arler rubbed and pinched the girl's bottom a few times and then began to spank her with the palm of her hand. It didn't seem very harsh, but I knew that Miss Arler was just getting warmed up. Jessie was wiggling and saying "Oh!" over and over again. She appeared to be very surprised to be in the position she was in, and that a hand spanking hurt so much. I'm sure many things were confusing her. I wished I had a chance to talk with her and explain.

The spanking was a long one--a good twenty minutes of solid bottom-pounding. Jessie stood up amazed at how sore she was when it was over. Her expression was one of a prisoner suddenly released from the hanging noose. She couldn't believe it was over.

It was my turn next, and my spanking was much longer--a half hour, at least. (I watched the clock--if I'd gone by what I thought I'd have estimated in the sixteen hour range. It felt like forever.)

After the spankings Jessie and I were relegated to separate corners for a half-hour's contemplation while Miss Arler prepared supper. When the meal was ready, we were marched into the kitchen. Before being allowed to sit and eat, however, we each had to kneel on our chairs and thrust out our fiendishly sore bottoms for two dozen wallops with a thick wooden paddle.

"Thank you, Miss Arler," I said when I'd received my two dozen.

"You are welcome, Erin."

Jessie watched us and then tentative said, "T-thank you, Miss--Miss Arler."

Miss Arler beamed at the girl. "Very good, Jessie. You are learning very well."

Jessie blushed and smiled as though she'd won a medal, and then we both sat awkwardly on our chairs and tried to eat the delicious meal of spaghetti Miss Arler had prepared. At first eating was the last thing we wanted to do, but soon we discovered we were hungry, and the meal was very good, with hot rolls just from the oven. We ate until we burped, and then Miss Arler excused us (one at a time), to use the facilities if we needed.

"There won't be time later," she hinted, and Jessie and I glanced at each other in fear.

After the meal, however, Miss Arler did not spank us as I had feared. Instead she had us help with the dishes, which we were happy to do, and she asked us questions about school and she glibly told stories of her days at school. It was obvious she was glad to have us there, and soon we were glad to be there too, though I knew Miss Arler too well to doubt that we'd leave without profound memories in the form of thick red strikes across our behinds.

We sipped sodas in the living room and chatted for at least an hour, until it grew dark outside. Miss Arler went and closed the blinds, then, and went to her room for a bit. The house was very still and silent, and though I wanted to whisper something comforting to Jessie, I didn't dare. Instead I took her hand in mine and squeezed it, hoping she'd understand. She glanced up at me, her eyes wide but I saw she wasn't as frightened as I expected. In fact, there was a look of admiration and amazement in her eyes. I didn't know what to make of it.

Minutes later, when Miss Arler emerged from her room, she was entirely naked. She didn't seem the least bit self-conscious as she walked toward us and set down a pile of canes, whips, and paddles on the coffee table, and then left to fetch another load. Jessie's eyes were larger than saucers she was so astonished. She could not take her eyes off Miss Arler's slender form as she stood arranging the implements on the table. Though I'd seen Miss Arler nude before, I was once again impressed with and jealous of her beauty. I'd always wished that I could look as relaxed and sexual as she could.

"Jessie, I think I'll begin with you," Miss Arler said sternly, and picked up a large flat paddle. It was a thin one, which told me we'd be in for a long paddling. Jessie, though nervous and pale, nodded obediently and went across Miss Arler's lap.

The paddling was indeed long and painful. Each stroke was loud and covered poor Jessie's petite bottom completely. Miss Arler wasn't gentle at all, but paddled the girl as hard as she could. Jessie was wailing and shivering, sobbing with pain. But Miss Arler had some mercy at least--she stopped earlier than I thought she would and helped the weeping Jessie into a sitting position on her lap. Jessie couldn't stop crying as Miss Arler caressed her hair and whispered soothing words to her.

"That was just a sample," said Miss Arler. "It wasn't so bad. But I know you are already very sore. You are doing wonderful, my dear. You are very lovely as you are spanked, do you know that?"

"R-really?" sniffed Jessie.

"Absolutely gorgeous. But you have a great deal more to learn. I'm afraid you will have to come back here to me for frequent lessons."

Jessie's eyes were locked into Miss Arler's when she spoke those words and instantly I knew I'd lost my best friend. Oh, she'd still be friends with me, certainly, but I knew it would never be the same between us again. Jessie was Miss Arler's pet now. I could see that. I would only be a pale shadow in comparison. Jessie had had a taste of paradise and wouldn't return to my neighborhood.

Miss Arler kissed the girl on the forehead. "Now you must also learn to wield the paddle. Have you paddled anyone before?"

"No, ma'am," whispered Jessie, a touch of awe in her voice.

"Well, you must learn. Why don't you begin on Erin, there. She deserves a long hard paddling. Erin, stand up! Jessie, tell her what position you'd like her in."

I stood up nervously, my face growing red at the thought of being spanked by my former slave. But there was no way I was going to disobey Miss Arler. Following Jessie's orders, I bent over and grasped by ankles as though awaiting a caning. But it was the wooden paddle that met my behind. Not just once but many times, and many paddles. Jessie had to try out each of the paddles in Miss Arler's extensive collection. There were pick thick heavy paddles that required two hands to swing and nearly knocked me over. There were small thin paddles that smacked just one cheek at a time. There were leather paddles, stiff ones and flexible ones, narrow ones and wide ones. Jessie gave me a dozen or two of each, gradually learning the subtlties of each implement. After Jessie finished with me Miss Arler would give her a half dozen strokes so she would also know what it felt like. So while I stood awkwardly bent over in my miserable position, Jessie got spanked across Miss Arler's lap, and it seemed to me the woman spent almost as much caressing the girl's bottom as she did spanking it!

After my paddling, I was sent to the corner. Behind me I heard Miss Arler telling Jessie that it was her turn now. I glanced behind me and saw that Miss Arler had spread herself across the arm of the sofa, her naked legs dangling off the end. Her beautiful white bottom was propped up wonderfully, just waiting for the kiss of the paddle. Jessie was standing behind the woman, her face flushed with confusion, the large thin paddle in her hand.

"Go ahead," ordered Miss Arler. "You'll know when to stop."

Hesitantly at first, and rapidly gaining courage, Jessie began to spank her new mistress. She paddled hard and loudly, and I saw she turned the paddle to catch the underside and sides of Miss Arler's impressive backside so that no part of it was neglected. The paddling lasted a long time. Miss Arler didn't made a sound for the first fifteen minutes or so, but then she began to moan slightly, and wiggle her bum. It was obvious the spanking was finally getting to her. But Jessie paddled on, her own breath coming in pants and gasps, her naked body glistening with sweat as she worked very hard to punish her mistress.

Finally, when even I was beginning to wonder how much longer this could continue, I saw Jessie begin to slow. Her face was puzzled. I saw the problem immediately--individual strokes of the paddle no longer had any effect at all. She'd smack Miss Arler and there would be no response. It took a series of blows, very hard and very fast, to elicit any cry or grunt of Miss Arler's tightly closed mouth.

Jessie glanced up at me in puzzlement, and I pointedly looked at the table. Jessie grinned and set down the paddle, picking up a long heavy strip of leather. It was about four or five inches wide, but thick, and I knew it would sting very badly, especially on such a sore behind. Miss Arler had her eyes shut and was wiggling on the couch arm. She had no idea what was happening as Jessie lifted her arm with the strap.

The crack was loud but Miss Arler's painful gasp was even louder. She hissed and writhed on the sofa, her eyes wide with alarm. She did not protest, however, but merely whimpered as the strap came down again and again on her unprotected bottom.

Jessie, poor little innocent Jessie, so gentle and kind, thrashed that woman harder and longer than I had ever seen anyone thrashed. Miss Arler's beautiful bottom was a purple and black mess, throbbing with bright red patches and thick angry welts. The woman was never silent now, but moaned constantly, even when she wasn't being whipped.

Miss Arler, standing stiffly, ordered me sternly: "Take that damn strap and give the girl a taste of her own medicine!"

I didn't have to be asked twice--I snatched the leather from Jessie and bent her across the sofa arm. In seconds Jessie was howling at the top of her lungs, the heavy strap leaving thick pulsing welts across her naked arse. I whipped her hard and fast, not even giving her time to breathe or really feel the strokes. It was simply cold, brutal punishment. Excitement surged through my body as I watched Jessie writhing and weeping, her bottom glowing and hot.

When I finished, Miss Arler had me take Jessie's place, and Jessie gave me the strap. I was already quite sore, and the stinging of the heavy strap brought hot tears flooding down my face. I was in terrible pain and very glad when it was over, my buttocks and legs throbbing with countless welts and bruises. But I knew our little session with Miss Arler wasn't over, for neither of us had felt the cane, and Miss Arler always finished with the cane.

Sure enough, as I stood up from my whipping, groaning and aching to rub my backside, I saw Miss Arler sorting through her selection of canes. As I watched she chose a long thin brown one and bent it nearly double, and then swished it through the air a few times. Satisfied, she nodded at me. Without a word of protest I bent over and grabbed my ankles, keeping my legs as straight as I could. My bottom was already very tender.

The first stroke sounded like a gunshot, and took my breath away. The second brought tears to my eyes, and by the third I was crying openly. I couldn't help myself--the thin strokes seemed to cut my ass in two and the burning seemed to intensify after the cane left my body.

Somehow I stood like that and received six of the best from Miss Arler, the fourth one right in the hypersensitive crease between my bottom and my thighs and the last two criss-crossing the earlier strokes across my full cheeks. It was as precise and thorough a caning as I'd ever gotten, and it had been so long since I'd felt such swelling pain I'd forgotten just how intense and overwhelming it could be. I was devastated.

But it wasn't over. Miss Arler bade me to stay in position and passed the cane to Jessie, quietly explaining to her what should be done. Though she'd never used the cane before, Jessie was a quick study. She gave me six of her best, and while they weren't as elegant as Miss Arler's, and a few strokes went unexpectedly wild, the strokes still hurt a great deal.

Then it was Jessie's turn, and she began sobbing on Miss Arler's second stroke, a brutal cut right across the fullest part of her rump. Six times the cane flashed down, and I saw it was all Jessie could do not to scream. But she seemed determined not to seem afraid in front of Miss Arler, and accepted her punishment without complaint though she shed a great many tears.

After the six, I took the cane handed to me and proceeded to give Jessie six of my best, and these were almost as perfect as Miss Arler's. Jessie howled and wiggled but fortunately for her bottom's sake, did not break position. When it was over Jessie's rump was nearly purple and criss-crossed with deep red stripes. It would be days before she sat down properly again.

I turned to give the cane back to Miss Arler but she was bent over, her glorious behind thrust upward and outward. "Give me a dozen," she said firmly, her jaw set rigidly. "Then it will be Jessie's turn."

I did not argue but nodded, and proceeded to thrash my former teacher within an inch of her life. She gasped out loud at my sharp strokes, and Jessie watched me with her mouth hanging open. She could not believe the force I was using--I'm sure it looked astonishing that the cane didn't break.

Jessie had learned a great deal caning me and caned Miss Arler with more confidence. Her strokes were harder and better placed, and Jessie seemed less intimidated by the incredible pain she knew she was inflicting. Miss Arler wept and wiggled slightly, but did not make a sound. Her breathing was loud and strained, and when it was over and she stood up, we knew she had indeed been hurt.

"T-that-that was excellent, girls, both of you. Very well done."

"Thank you, Miss Arler," whispered Jessie, and I voiced my agreement.

"I think I should be getting you to back to school," Miss Arler said, but Jessie and I both noticed the sad tone in her voice. We nodded and hung our heads. Despite everything we'd endured, the thought of leaving the delightful presence of Miss Arler depressed us.

"May-may we clean up first?" asked Jessie.

Miss Arler beamed. "Excellent idea, my child. We have all exerted ourselves a great deal. Let's take a shower and then we shall put ointment on our wounds."

What followed was a blissful dream--the three of us in the shower together, our nude bodies bumping and rubbing, the cool water caressing our hot flesh, the slippery soap greasing down our sleek skin. We giggled and poked and prodded one another, relaxed and comfortable with our nakedness. We told each other that we were beautiful, and it was afterward, standing before the large mirror, that I saw something that astonished me: I had grown in the last few years and my body had fleshed out. Standing next to Miss Arler I was surprised to note that I was nearly as tall as her and my body similar in shape. The firm, graceful bottom of my teacher that I'd so admired and coveted was actually mine. I had grown into a woman without realizing it!

After drying off we went into Miss Arler's bedroom and stretched out on her bed and she creamed us, rubbing a cold but soothing ointment into our sore behinds and legs. Then Jessie and I did Miss Arler, massaging the cream deep into the bruised flesh of her ass.

Shortly after that it was over, and Jessie and I stood outside the gate of St. Esther's. We silently watched Miss Arler drive off. I looked at Jessie and my heart went cold--she gazed off into the night with the same expression she used to reserve for me. I knew at that moment that she was gone, that she was no longer mine to command.

"We'd better go in," I whispered. She nodded, scarcely hearing me. She was lost in a real-life fantasy world.

"Isn't she beautiful?" she breathed finally.

"Yes, she is beautiful," I agreed.

"Do you think I will see her again?"

"If she wishes it, and I suspect she does."

We went through the gate then, and I felt a great sadness and longing. I missed my private times with Miss Arler, when I looked at her the way Jessie now did. I missed Jessie already, for her heart was no longer mine. My world was changing. I was growing up, and wasn't sure I liked the results.

More to come next week!

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