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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(****, M/f, Intense, Teen caning)
Erin has a bittersweet homecoming and grows up quick. (Approximately 1,548 words. Originally published 1998-02.)
My parents had a little party after I returned home. On my insistence, it was a modest affair, but my father couldn't hide how proud he was of his daughter. During the party I saw many neighborhood friends I hadn't seen in years, and was introduced to a number of young men by couples my parents had invited. It was all very artificial and I wasn't much in the mood, though I tried to smile and play along.
As the party faded, and most of the guests congratulated me one last time and vanished, I felt tremendous relief. I had wanted to escape school and feel like an adult, but my sour mood left me feeling childish and immature.
There was a soft touch on my arm. I turned and saw my father. He led me away from the dwindling party, down the hall and out the back door of the house.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"I wanted to talk to you alone," he said. His expression was strange to me. It was a mixture of happiness and saddness, as though he couldn't make up his mind which emotion was the strongest. I saw pride there, and fear and concern. To my shock I also saw tears in his eyes, and when he hugged me suddenly, I realized how very much he loved me.
Some tiny thing inside me began to crack at that moment, and I too began to weep. We wept together for what seemed like a long time, but I imagine was really only a few minutes, and when we pulled apart and looked at each other, we were smiling.
"Oh, I love you so very much!" I cried out.
"I know, dear. I'll love you forever, you know that, don't you?"
"Yes, Daddy," I said, nodding and sniffling.
"You're going to be leaving me, soon. You are going to be an adult and go off on your own. I am so proud of you, but I want you never to forget that I am your father, and if you ever need anything, I am here for you. Do you understand that? No matter what happens in your life, what troubles you run into, or get yourself buried it, you can come home to Daddy and I'll be here for you."
I couldn't speak I felt so much happiness. I hugged him instead, and for a long while we just stood there embracing in the moonlight. Finally we broke apart and walked through the garden and out to the little shed near the back fence. I thought we'd just wandered there, but reaching the shed my father opened the door, flipped on the light, and motioned for me to go inside.
Puzzled, I obeyed. The shed wasn't more than an eight by ten, and the walls were covered with shelves of tools and woodworking equipment. (Daddy fancies himself a carpenter of late, though truth be told he needs a great deal more practice.)
My eyes went right to the long rattan cane on the workbench. Fear clenched my belly and somehow I knew it was more than coincidence that it was lying there, and that my father was closing the door behind us.
"Daddy?" I said. My voice was hesitant with fear.
"Yes, dear," he whispered. "That's why we're here."
"But what did I dooo?" I wailed, feeling more and more like a child. Tears welled up in my eyes. This wasn't fair! I was to be done with canes and childish spankings! I was eighteen years old, goddamn it!
"Nothing, Peaches," he whispered. "You haven't done anything. Now you know the routine. Hand me the cane and bend over the work. I'll take care of your dress."
It was like someone else was inside me, controlling my limbs. I felt myself walking, taking the enormously long cane and passing it to my father, and shuddering as I bent forward. I grasped the other side of the bench with my hands, holding on tightly as I feared this was going to hurt.
My father wasted no time but quickly lifted my long dress up until it cleared my bottom. My panties were sexy lacey ones I'd bought as soon as I'd gotten away from school. No more regulation knickers for me! But they came down to my ankles as quickly as any other, and I was left standing there, bare bottomed, waiting for the cane. I shivered and held my breath. Nothing happened.
"Erin? Aren't you forgetting something?"
"Oh. Yes, sir. Please, may I have the first stroke?"
It came then, deceitfully quiet until it struck with blinding agony. The line of fire was outrageous and I howled in frustration. Somehow I managed to ask for the second and third strikes, tears stinging my eyes.
It was astonishing. My bottom already felt like it had been thoroughly beaten after just three strokes. Perhaps it had been the surprise of the caning. I certainly had not been expecting a caning tonight!
"Please, sir, number four?"
As the number of strokes slowly climbed, I realized that I was feeling this punishment in ways I hadn't felt in a very long time. The intensity was astonishing. My body felt alive and vigorous. I was crying, yes, but crying half out of joy and delight. I hadn't felt this much emotion in months, years, perhaps. That something inside me that had cracked earlier, suddenly broke away completely, and I began to sob.
It wasn't that the strokes were harder or more vicious than I'd ever felt -- in fact, they were mild compared to Thornley's two dozen. It was something else. During the next two strokes I thought about it as hard as I could, trying to decipher what made this caning so special.
Then it hit me -- I loved my father for what he was doing!
I hadn't loved Thornley when she'd beaten me before the entire school, or Sari and the girls when they'd taken turns whacking my arse. No, this was different. I loved my father and loved that he was punishing me. I knew he loved me and every sizzling stroke was given in love. I didn't resent the punishment, or fear it. I knew it was just, somehow. He loved me and if he felt I needed punishment, that was enough justification for me.
"Please, may I have eleven?" I whispered, my voice singing with joy. I wished this could last forever.
As the rod wealed me yet again and I writhed in delicious agony, I realized something else: I'd never loved those I'd punished. Except for Jessie, at least for a little while. No wonder I'd been such a dismal failure as a prefect! No wonder my charges had resented me so much. I had thought to gain pleasure from beating them, but now I saw clearly that pleasure comes from love. I'd glimpsed it with Samuel, delighting in how he accepted my whippings in exchange for sex, but of course we had not been truly in love.
"Number twelve, please."
The cane cracked down hard, low, and brought forth a yelp of alarm from me. My bottom was well-healed from Thornley's administrations, but I was still sensitive. Waves of pain washed through me, cleansing me. My weeping drained me, and I felt my guilt and confusion fade. When the sixteenth blow fell and I heard my father telling me to rise I felt powerfully disappointed.
I stood, my dress falling down over my bottom, and hugged my father for a long time, weeping onto his shoulder. He patted my back and whispered soothing things into my ear.
"That's it, Peaches. That's all there is. It's all over, now. You're a grown up now. A college girl. Shhh, don't cry. It's all over. I'll never strike you again. Oh, there now, don't cry. It's okay. I know it hurts, dear, but I felt you needed one last reminder before I let you go."
"Oh, Daddy, I'll always be your girl!" I howled, burying my face in his collar.
"I know you will, dear. But you're an adult now. You'll have no more need of my discipline. You're on your own, now. I'll be here to guide you and instruct you, but you have to make your own decisions now."
He hugged me until I stopped crying and then he used his handkerchief to wipe away my tears. "Come on, girl. We'd better get back to the party before someone comes looking for us."
A stab of fright hit me. I'd forgotten all about the party. Perhaps there were guests outside right now, listening! My face went crimson as Daddy opened the door, but there was no one there, only the quiet cool night.
I walked back with him, abandoning my knickers in the shed, and feeling deliciously naughty for doing so. I composed my face the best I could, figuring if someone saw I'd been crying they'd surely think it was due to emotion, not a bout with a cane!
It was the beginning of a new era for me. Childish things were far behind me, and only adulthood lay ahead. I wondered what sort of pleasure and pain it would bring.
More to come next week!