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.
Purchase this story in print form!
Don't like reading on screen? This story is available in print form in Erin's Adventures at the Flogmaster's Bookstore. Purchase your copy today to encourage the Flogmaster to write more cool stories.
My First Job
(***, F/F, Intense, College girl strapping)
Erin gets a job. (Approximately 1,720 words. Originally published 1998-02.)
As often happens with major changes in life, several came to me at once. Right after Heidi's proposal my first term ended with a series of dreadful final exams. As I was making arrangements to move in with Heidi and preparing for a new round of classes, I learned from a friend of an opening at a small beauty parlor. I needed the extra income and was determined to get the job.
Initially my job would be to assist the shop owner, Mrs. Dunst. She was a kindly woman in her late forties, large and blustery, given to gossip, and terrible at doing the accounts. But she was wonderful with problem hair. My duties would include washing the client's hair and answering the telephone and managing appointments, and eventually I'd learn to do simply trims and give permanents.
Mrs. Dunst seemed very pleased with me, especially with my instincts. I'd always enjoyed working with hair, giving haircuts to friends or experimenting with my own, and now I had a chance to learn to do it professionally. At the end of our conversation she announced the job was mine if I wanted it; I would begin a week from Monday, the start of the new term.
I worked in the afternoons, which fitted my new schedule, and I loved my new job. Mrs. Dunst quickly saw I had an eye for certain styles and in my second week actually let me help her with several clients, though I was terrified as I'd had no formal training whatsoever. She watched me constantly, however, and the ladies were very happy with my work.
My confidence and knowledge grew and during the third week I was ecstatic when Mrs. Dunst let me begin working with Mrs. Kabel, one of her oldest and most prominent clients. She emphasized to me how important and wealthy the lady was, despite her encentric manners, and I resolved to do a bang-up job on the woman.
I began with washing the woman's hair. Mrs. Kabel was an arrogant witch of a woman, tall and stretched out like taffy, who wore expensive designer outfits with the grace of a telephone pole. She had narrow black glasses and glared at everyone through the tiny windows. Her face was bitter and puckered like she'd sucked on a sour lemon all morning and nothing I did made her happy. She complained I kept pulling her hair while washing it, and of course I got soap in her eyes.
"Dottie! Dottie! Come here right this minute!" she cried when I'd finished with the wash. Mrs. Dunst bustled over.
"This servant girl of yours is worthless! She practically tore my hair out at the roots!"
"I'm sorry," murmured Mrs. Dunst, lowering her eyes briefly and flashing me a sharp scolding look. "She is very new. And very young, don't you think? We'll settle up before you leave, all right?"
Mrs. Kabel leered at me greedily with her tiny black pea eyes. "Yes, she is young," she said nodding slowly. Her head went up and down as she looked me over carefully. "All right, get it over with!" she snapped suddenly, waving Mrs. Dunst away and letting me begin with her hairdo.
It was a disaster from the word go. First of all, I was now so nervous that I triple-guessed decision I made, which left me with absolutely no confidence in my abilities. Mrs. Kabel made everything very difficult, berating me constantly, for no apparent reason, and she kept changing her mind, usually right after I'd made some dreadfully permanent snip with my scissors. Three times I fetched Mrs. Dunst for advice and consolation and got very little of either. I began to wonder why in the world I'd been allowed to cut hair so soon on the job as I obviously knew nothing.
I finally managed to end up with something that Mrs. Kabel seemed vaguely pleased with, grudgingly admitting I had some skill, though I was obviously a rude bore of a child who needed to learn some manners. I didn't say a word in response, but waited for the judgement of Mrs. Dunst. She appeared quite surprised and impressed by what I had done, remarking on several clever impromptu fixes I'd made because of Mrs. Kabel's const mind-changing.
"Not bad, not bad at all," she murmured, clicking her tongue quietly. "Very good, Erin. You have remarkable talent. But I'm afraid Mrs. Kabel is right -- you are awfully rude. She is a delicate, sensitive woman. You must have more care when working with her hair and show some respect for her desires."
"But Mrs. Dunst -- " I began, hot tears stinging my eyes at the unfairness of the accusations, ready to launch into a spirited defense.
She put up her hand firmly. "Not another word. Please assist Mrs. Kabel with amending matters." She turned and left, hurrying to another customer.
Frustrated and bewildered, I smiled at Mrs. Kabel the best I could. "I'm really sorry, Ma'am," I said.
"That remains to be seen, young lady. Come with me."
The tall woman spun around and trotted off with remarkable speed, heading for the rear of the store. She did not head for the lavatory as I expected, but went right to the storeroom marked "Employees Only." Her confidence and knowledge of the store confused me. What was she planning?
At the back of the storeroom was another door where I had not gone. Once when I had tried to door out of curiousity, it had been locked. But it opened easily for Mrs. Kabel and I disappeared inside, gnashing her teeth at my slowness.
"Move it child, we haven't all day!"
The room was small and clausterphobic with no windows. A long florescent tube on the ceiling illuminated the nearly empty room. When the door shut behind me it felt like we were in another world, for the room was deathly quiet. I could hear nothing from outside; no voices or vehicles passing.
The only furniture in the room was a small wooden desk with an integrated chair. It looked just like the kind used by very young children in school. As I watched, puzzled, Mrs. Kabel went to the desk and lifted the top, revealing a small storage area. She reached inside and took something out. Snapping her wrist, the wide leather strap unrolled. It was perhaps thirty inches long with the last ten inches split into three tails. My heart thumped wildly and I must have gasped out loud because she whirled to face me.
"All right, child, get over the desk! We shall see if you are truly sorry."
"M-Mrs. K-K-Kay-bulll..." I stammered, my voice turning into a plaintive whine.
"No backtalk or I shall add extra," she grunted, reaching out a gnarled hand to push me toward the desk. She was surprisingly strong. A tinge of worry began to quiver in my belly.
I bent over the small desk into the position so intimately familiar with me. Yet this time it felt different. A cold fear had settled over me and I shivered.
The woman wasted little time. She hustled up my skirt and pulled it well out of the way, and then wrestled my knickers down to my ankles. Nude from the waist down, I trembled as I felt her scrutinizing me, her eyes drinking in my bare arse and naked thighs. She ran her rough palm across my buttocks, pinching me cruelly.
"Ah, such a fine young lass," she whispered. "I shall make you pay for your mistakes!"
Then she began to whip me.
At first it wasn't too bad. The belt was wide and weighty and the strokes solid, imparting a good heavy wallop that felt appropriate. After about twenty or thirty strokes, however, my backside was screaming with agony and I began to fidget.
"Keep still!" snapped the woman, and she laid it on heavily, stroke after stroke after stroke. She caught me mostly across my bum, but occasionally she whipped my thighs for variety. I began to moan and wiggle, ahing with each cruel stroke.
"Ohhh, but it hurts!"
"Of course it does. This is punishment."
"Ouch! Oh, please, that's enough. Ooooh! Ahhh! No more!"
WAP! WAP! WAP!
"I'll tell you when it's enough! Now bend over more, arch that back! Show me that naughty bum! I'm going to stripe you raw!"
I gritted my teeth and rocked on the desk, the leather snapping and biting me like some wild animal. It felt like every blow took out chunks of my flesh. My tears flooded onto the little chair.
After an incredibly long lashing the woman finally stopped. She was panting like a marathon runner. "Sit -- in -- the -- desk!" she managed.
I sat. I didn't have to be told twice, not from her. The chair was far too small for my big bottom, and the last thing I felt like doing was sitting, but I didn't even hesitate. My tears had left a little puddle on the seat, and could feel the moisture soaking into the scorched, raised flesh of my arse. I wiggled slightly.
"Be -- still!" roared the woman, waving the strap at me. I froze.
The woman sighed, a long deep sigh of contentment.
"You weren't bad, little one," she said with a soft smile. Her hand touched my tear-stained cheek. "Oh, you suffer delightfully! It is so hard and yet so easy for you, isn't it? Ah, yes, that is the nature of things. Ease makes things difficult."
She took a white handkerchief out of a pocket and gently wiped my face. I didn't move, staring at her as though she was a space alien. She put the handkerchief away. "Let's go."
Back in the main store it was as though nothing had happened. Mrs. Dunst was working away and the telephone was ringing shrilly. I rushed to answer it, my buttocks throbbing at my movement. As I spoke vaguely with the woman on the phone I distantly heard Mrs. Kabel thanking Mrs. Dunst for an excellent shop and promising to return in a month for "more of the same."
Ah, my first job. I obviously had a lot to learn about the business world.
More to come next week!