Chapter 33

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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 33
The Fall from Grace

(****, f/m, F/f, M/m, Severe, Teen sex, caning)

Erin finds a new boyfriend and earns them both a public caning. (Approximately 2,976 words. Originally published 1998-02.)

After the mutiny, I calmed down for a few weeks. I made efforts to be friendly with the other girls, and the story of my caning by Sari and the others boosted my reputation considerably. Still, my feelings were vague. I found little satisfaction in my prefectship. I felt adrift. I was no longer sure what I wanted. There was no Miss Arler or Ariana to instruct and guide me. I would lie awake at nights dreaming of them, wishing I could be under their control for even a few precious moments. With them, I had a purpose, a function. Alone I was nothing.

But there was no one. Even Jessie was gone, off in her own world. She barely seemed to recognize me any more. One day I caught her alone and fabricated some offense regarding her uniform and took up my slipper to discipline her. She obeyed me willingly, bending right over. But I could see in her face that she knew my excuse was flimsy, and worse, that she resented it. She resented my subjucation of her. She was not mine to control any more. After the fourth half-hearted wallop I let her go, knowing that the punishment only brought us pain, no amusement or excitement.

I was alone.

Towards the end of the year I discovered a new method of combating my loneliness: boys. I visited several from St. Andrew's during late-night rendezvous. It was frightfully risky, of course, but I thrived on the danger. Besides, I was desperate for companionship. Now I don't want to make it sound like I didn't have friends -- I had plenty of those -- but what I wanted was intimacy, powerful emotional connections like I'd had with Ariana, Miss Arler, and briefly, with Jessie.

The first couple of boys I met were crude brutes who wanted nothing but my body, and while that was temporarily pleasurable, it left me feeling more empty than ever. The third boy I met was named Samuel. He was a quiet boy, reserved and shy, the complete opposite of me. He was intelligent and loved to talk, however, and most important, he loved to listen. He was a friend of Peter, the second boy I'd gone out with, and I noticed him one night when I'd gone to meet Peter.

It was pitch dark along the edge of the woods where I usually met Peter. I'd been waiting for near twenty minutes, growing impatient and angry (and impossibly horny), when I heard a sound. Naturally I became alert, worried that it might be an administrator, that perhaps Peter was late because he'd been caught by a prefect or teacher. But then I saw the sillouette of a small boy and got up, thinking it was Peter. I ran and kissed him on the cheek.

"That's a jolly way to greet a chap," said a grinning voice that's wasn't Peter's.

"You bastard!" I shouted, and my hand darted up to slap the boy. He dodged my blow, grabbing my wrist.

"None of that, now, lassie. I'm just here to give you a message from Peter."

"Well, what is it?"

"He can't make it. He's in the infirmary with the trots."

"Blast it all!" I cried, a bit too loud, and the boy quickly thrust his hand over my mouth.

"Crimney, girl! Are you _trying_ to get us caught? I'd take the cane with pleasure to acquaint myself with a girl like you, but I'm out here risking my arse for nothing."

And this point, my horniness got the better of me, and I started noticing that this was a handsome boy, if a bit academic-looking. Since Peter was out of the picture, wouldn't he do?

"Just what sort of acquaintance did you have in mind?" I said brashly, pressing myself against him. He was too stunned to answer. He stepped back, his outstretched palms coming in direct contact with my breasts.

"Oh!" he cried in embarrassment, taking his hands away. I pressed further into him.

"You'd really take the cane to be with me?" I asked.

He looked up at me, lips shifting nervously, his eyes vague round shapes in the darkness. "Uh, certainly," he said slowly. "There aren't many girls as fine as you."

"I have half a mind to test you on that," I said, pressing full against him, my nipples against his chest. My hands fumbled with the buckle on his pants and he gasped in horror as they dropped to his ankles. He started to bend down to retrieve them when I hugged him tightly, keeping him from moving.

"Leave them down," I said, and he nodded, dumbly. I could feel his erection against my thigh. It aroused me even more, and I knew I'd have this boy tonight. I kissed him then, long and hard, and I could feel the boy melting in my arms. He was mine.

I didn't say a word but turned and walked into the woods. He followed, eager as a puppy. We walked a long ways from the school, into a private clearing in a grove where Peter and I usually lie, before we spoke.

"But you're Peter's girl," he whispered nervously. "This isn't right. Peter's my friend."

"I'm nobody's 'girl.' If I want you I can have you."

The boy's face flushed with excitement at the concept that I wanted him. I knew immediately that I was his first girl, and that gave me a delectable thrill. I wanted to savor this, draw it out.

I crossed the clearing to the other side so he could watch me. There I carefully began to remove my clothes. I took everything off, knowing that the moonlight made my nudity even more exciting. Then, with his eyes burning holes into me, I selected a stout branch from a birch and broke it off the tree. Walking back to the boy, the branch partially concealing my body, I tore off the tiny limbs and stripped the rod clean.

The boy was frozen at the edge of the clearing, his mouth agape, his breathing rapid. He looked terrified, as though I was an exotic alien being from another galaxy, come to devour him, and yet he seemed perfectly willing to allow me to devour him.

"Let us see if your words match your actions," I said. "Strip and kneel, and take your stripes!" I swished the rod through the air, the slight whipping sound as exhilerating as it was frightening.

Gasping, the boy began to tear off his clothes. He didn't say anything, but ripped everything off in a haphazard fashion, tossing them into the bushes. When he was completely naked, he started to kneel. I stopped him with the rod, and then inspected him, running the rod across his naked flesh. I ran it down his back, across his firm bum, down his legs, and then drew it up the other side, pausing for a long time around his impressive cock, stiff and already oozing with anticipation.

"Kneel," I said, and he obeyed instantly. Without warning I brought the rod hard across his bum. It didn't make much of a sound -- nothing like a cane -- but the boy tensed and I saw a thin line appear across his cheeks. He quivered, shivering, his naked skin covered with goosepimples from the chilly night air.

"Do you like that?"

"Oh, please, Miss," he whispered, his voice rattling like gravel under a heavy truck.

I gave him another stripe, and then another. The boy groaned and leaned forward, arching his back and thrusting his buttocks upward. I striped him some more, and he cried out in pain.

"Let me see it," I said, and when he sat up I saw that his cock was larger than ever, drooling from the tip. I touched it with the rod and it was too much for him. He spurted suddenly. With a gasp of shame he grasped it in his hands and bent forward, hiding it from me as he convulsed wildly.

"You bastard! I wanted to see it!" I cried out, furious at him. I struck his backside with the rod again and again, striping him thoroughly, but he ignored me, lying curled up in a shuddering ball.

When he finally stopped quivering I stopped the lashing, biding him to stand. He was shrunken now, but I quickly remedied that problem. We lay together in the woods, and it was incredibly passionate.

It was far different from anything I'd experienced with Peter or other boys. I was attracted by Samuel's clear adoration of me, his innocence, and his willingness to suffer discipline for me. Indeed, this soon became our routine. Each time we met Samuel consented to a whipping from me to earn his fucking, and the severity of both increased as time went on.

One night -- it must have been our fifth or sixth outing -- Samuel and I were in the middle of our passion when we heard voices. It was terrifying, knowing people were so close by, but we were so near to release neither of us could stop. I gripped Samuel's scorched bum even tighter, pulling him into me, as we both convulsed in wild excitement at the illicitness of our actions.

Right as we collapsed in relief, rolling off each other, panting heavily, the bushes parted above my head and I saw the upside-down figure of Mr. Davely, the Headmaster of St. Andrew. Immediately I saw my error. Obviously, for him to find us so precisely, he had to have been told. And who knew about this place _and_ had reason to hate me?

I began to laugh and giggle at my foolishness, not even caring that my amusement angered the headmaster even more. I lay spread out naked before him, unashamed, and grinned at him, though I dimly felt my world falling apart around me. This did not bode well for my future.

My punishment was not announced to me until late the next morning, in headmistress Thornley's office. I waited by myself in there for nearly two hours before she returned from her meeting with Mr. Davely, as the two had conspired on the appropriate punishments for Samuel and me. I felt a touch sorry for Samuel -- I'd really blistered him the previous night, and now we both surely faced a stiff beating.

The headmistress began by saying that they'd seriously considered our expulsion from the school, but decided that since there was less than a month to go before graduation, we'd both be spared that indignity. I felt grateful to the woman, and resolved to accept whatever punishment she had in mind, no matter how severe. I certainly knew I deserved it!

As I had expected, Thornley took away my prefectship. Worse, she informed me I'd be a lavatory duty until graduation, and I'd be forbidden to leave school grounds for any reason until then. Thornley made it clear I was to spend any free time studying or doing my chores.

"If anyone ever catches you slacking, young lady, you'll be in here for a taste of my cane and then I'll find something for you to do, and I can guarantee you that it won't be as pleasant as washing out the loos! So you keep your nose clean for the next few weeks and study like mad for your exams, and you'll graduate with the other girls of your class. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am," I muttered. It didn't really sound that bad. In fact, I was pleased. I'd known for weeks that I need to get cracking on my books or I'd never pass my exams but somehow I'd lacked motivation. The threat of dreadful chores or Thornley's cane was inspiring.

"Now, as to your punishment."

This is it! I thought, my heart cold and stiff with horror. I watched as she went to her cane bin. She didn't take out her long senior cane as I expected, however, but took down the leather tawse from the hook on the wall. It had been years since I'd felt the tawse. I wondered if that meant she was saving the cane for later.

"I'm going to strap you," she said. "This only because I feel you deserve some sort of punishment immediately. Two days hence, on Monday, during a special evening assembly, you shall be publicly caned for your actions."

A chill passed through me. I pictured myself on stage in the assembly hall, everyone in school gathered to watch my disgrace. It did not sound pleasant at all. There would be many in the audience who would delight in my downfall.

There were few words from the headmistress that day. She mostly spoke to me with her leather strap. The tawse was wide and split into three stinging tails, and Thornley knew how to use it efficiently. She showed me no mercy. It was by far the worse strapping I'd ever received. In fact, it was so bad I have little memory of the details. I don't know how long it lasted, nor how many strokes she gave me, but when it was finally over my uniform was literally drenched with tears and agonized sweat. My buttocks and legs were so sore that I could scarcely walk to the showers.

There, I stripped and soaked for an hour, my flesh so hot and painful that I could not stop weeping, though I had long since run out of tears. My body just jerked with dry sobs and I felt woefully sorry for myself. The worse was knowing that Monday was coming and this pain was just the beginning.

By Monday evening my flesh had healed somewhat. Though it was still pink and tender, the swelling and broad welts had vanished. I was stripped naked and brought out onto the stage. The entire school was seated watching me. I could not bear to look at them while Thornley stood at the podium and explained my crime and the upcoming punishment. For me, this was all like some bad dream. I drifted through it as though it was happening so someone else. I cared very little what they did to me. I heard her say the caning was to be twenty-four strokes and I merely nodded, not the least alarmed. It was just, whatever they did. I would accept it.

After the headmistress' speech, I was led to a wooden sawhorse and bent across it. My naked bum was pointed at the audience. Worse, my legs were pulled extremely wide and my face positioned so I could see everyone between my legs, and they could watch my every expression.

My legs were strapped to the sides of the horse, and then my arms pulled outward and strapped also. This was a new experience for me. I'd never been tied down for a punishment before. It was better, because I could struggle freely. But it was also worse, because my struggling meant I wasn't accepting my punishment willingly, which increased the pain.

Finally, when everything was ready, Thornley brought out the worst blow to my pride. I heard the audience react before I knew what was happening, and then I saw him out the corner of my eye, and heard Thornley introduce him. It was Samuel, brought over from the boys' school to watch my humiliation. He stood on stage, not three yards away, and watched, his face showing nothing.

The caning itself was nearly dull in its routine. It hurt miserably, and I was weeping after six. Thornley was thorough and devilish as always, but I was familiar with all her tricks, and I cared nothing but for this torture to end. I was no longer interested in the subtlties of her discipline, of where she placed her strokes, how she flicked her wrist to add that extra sting, or which weal she cleverly overlapped with another. This was her game, not mine. I never wanted to see another cane or strap again, as long as I lived. I merely lay there and wept quietly, praying that it would soon be over.

Thornley thrashed me horribly that day, giving me eight across the back of my thighs and the balance across my bum. She drew out the punishment for as long as she could, but eventually all twenty-four strokes had been delivered. Perhaps she would have been better not tying me down -- I could have resisted and earned extra strokes for her.

Later that evening, after supper (which I ate standing, in a room by myself), I was led over to St. Andrew's. It was a similar hall, but filled with boys instead of girls, and instead of a naked girl strapped to the wooden horse, it was a naked boy, pale and thin, with buttocks blotched with red welts from the strap.

I watched without expression as Mr. Davely dutifully gave poor Samuel two dozen of the best, including a number across the back of his thighs. With each stroke I felt as though I was being thrashed again, the pain in my body tingling and throbbing in sympathy. When it was over, in just a few minutes, to my surprise -- I could have sworn mine took at least a half an hour -- Samuel was led away and I never saw him again.

I returned to my school and my studies, and in three weeks took my final exams and passed easily. My father was ecstatic, talking vividly of college. I wasn't much interested but it meant getting away from St. Esther's, and that sounded wonderful.

At eighteen, I was finally an adult. I put my childhood behind me, and headed home for the summer. In the fall college awaited me. It was going to be exciting.

More to come next week!

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