Chapter 42

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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 42
The Shopping Trip

(****, M/FF, Severe, Caning)

Erin gets her first taste of discipline from Rob. (Approximately 2,650 words. Originally published 1998-02.)

Life with Rob changed everything. I was suddenly a giddy schoolgirl, silly and mindless as a teenager. I thought of little except for my weekly dates with him, and delighted in teasing him into taking me over his knee. A spanking from him inevitably concluded with both of us naked and wet and panting, precisely the result I intended all along.

Rob never spanked me as hard as that initial whipping at the salon, though his enthusiasm was just as intense. He joked that milder spankings meant he could spank me more often, but he also warned me that any serious misbehavior on my part would find me unable to sit comfortably for a week or more.

This delightful game continued for several months until I made my first real mistake. Heidi had been doing her best to make sure I didn't neglect my schoolwork, but with Rob on the brain, I was an even poorer student than usual. Even Heidi's cane did little to motivate me -- it only reminded me of my previous session with Rob and got me eager for the next.

After several particularly bad marks in history, however, followed by several particularly bad marks from Heidi's cane, I had come to a point where only an excellent score on a research paper would amend my grade to an acceptable level. Thus my Saturday was spent in the library, browsing through dusty tomes and dreaming of Rob. Because I needed to finish my schoolwork we couldn't meet that evening, so instead we'd made arrangements to meet briefly for tea at four o'clock.

Somehow my dreaming and my history paper addled my poor brain to such a point that I forgot the time, and it was past six when I realized I'd missed my appointment. I hastily rang him up at home and made my apologies, my heart trembling as I tried to imagine what fearful punishment Rob would devise for me.

But to my astonishment, Rob did not seem upset. He said he understood completely, and urged me to finish my paper . We would meet Sunday afternoon instead. In fact, if I finished my paper he had a shopping trip planned for me: something very special.

I was thrilled at the prospect of a special gift from Rob. I worked very hard that evening and finished my paper. Heidi galantly offered to proofread the masterpiece for me, with a penalty of only one stroke of the cane for every error she found, and after one more hasty rewrite, I agreed.

Seventeen sore marks later I wished I'd reread the paper better, but at least it was finished and the errors corrected. I went to sleep that night warm and contented, my mind whirling with excitement at the prospect of shopping with Rob. He'd never taken me shopping before -- my heart caught at the thought of expensive jewelry or perhaps a new dress.

Rob came by the apartment promptly at one o'clock. I was dressed casually in a slender dark green pantsuit. I always enjoyed the way the fit enhanced my figure and attracted Rob's eyes. He seemed quite pleased to see me, and excited about our plans for the day.

"Where are we going?" I asked, as the car zoomed up the road.

Rob just grinned. "You'll see," he said mysteriously. "But I'm sure you'll find it enlightening."

I didn't know what to make of that cryptic remark, and I burned with curiousity. But nothing I said revealed anything more than a sly smile from Rob, and I finally relaxed and resolved to simply wait and see.

We drove into a section of town that was unfamiliar to me. It was a very posh area of private homes and tiny exclusive shops. If Rob had not taken me there I should never have imagined that shops like that existed. Most were extremely elaborate with gold mouldings around the doorframes and fancy lace curtains in the windows. We parked and began to walk.

We passed a petite jewelry store that took my breath away twice -- once when I saw the magnificant merchandise in the window, and once again when I caught sight of the prices! There was a gold watch that cost more than my father earned in a year!

Still dizzy from such a sight, I nearly swooned when we passed a beautiful storefront that demonstrated elaborate examples of the store's exclusive designs of wedding gowns. They were surely the most magnificent dresses I'd ever seen.

But Rob did not stop. He marched on, finally arriving at a tiny, nearly insignificant door that bore the name "T.J. Hookam" in elegant gold script. There was nothing else to indicate what sort of place this was, and I was shocked when Rob opened the door and led me inside.

A butler met us immediately, leading us through the narrow corridor into a brightly lit room that was elegantly furnished with 18th century furniture and paintings. I felt as though I'd walked into a scene from a movie. Everything was gold and velvet and highly polished wood. The davenport was plush and comfortable, but I was nervous. My looks of puzzlement to Rob were ignored. I would have to wait. I sat miserably, feeling underdressed and far too modern.

Suddenly a gentleman appeared in the doorway. He was tall, very thin, and dressed in formal clothes. His hair was straight and very black. He and Rob immediately grinned and shook hands, and the man was introduced to me as "T. J. Hookam."

"So this is the lady," he said to me, bowing and kissing my hand. "You did not exaggerate, Mr. Allen. She is exquisite."

I blushed and looked away. The man's blue eyes were strange in contrast with his black hair. I felt something shiver inside me as I looked at him. It was though he saw me naked when he looked at me. My mouth suddenly seemed very dry.

"So, shall we get down to business?" said Rob, clapping his hands together.

"Certainly. Shall I bring you out a selection?" The man turned from me and focused on Rob.

"That would be fine. Remember, we are looking for the longest and the best."

"Of course."

The man snapped his fingers and the butler slipped away, only to return a moment later carrying a long wooden case. At first I thought it might be a musical instrument, but it was far too large for a flute, and as the case was narrow and flat, it couldn't hold a violin or horn.

T. J. placed the case on the long mahogony table and unsnapped the twin latches. "Here you are, Mr. Allen. The best money can buy." He flipped open the box.

My heart constricted so intensely I thought I'd collapse. My eyes flashed to Rob's and somehow, staring into those intense orbs, I gathered strength and managed not to fall.

Inside the case were three long ivory canes in velvet padding. These were like no canes I'd ever seen. They were polished smooth as glass and yet hard as steel. As Rob lifted one from the box and bent it, it bent easily, implying a whippiness that made my bottom tingle. I could not breathe as I watched the two men.

"Not bad," murmured Rob. "But something heavier might be more appropriate."

"There are three weights here. The one in your hand is called Stinger, and it is the lightest of these three. This one is named Burn and that one Fire. Of course there are others if these don't meet your needs. Would you care to test them?"

"That would be ideal."

T. J. nodded to the butler who pressed a small button on the wall. Scarcely ten seconds later a young girl in a maid's uniform appeared. She was slender and attractive, with dark red hair and fair skin. She blushed prettily and smiled at Rob. "At your service, sir."

Rob grinned and held up the cane. "I believe you know what this is designed for," he said softly.

The girl didn't hesitate. "Yes, sir. For my naughty bum, sir. How would you like me?"

Rob considered the matter. "Over the chair," he said finally, motioning to a large wooden armchair with plush velvet padding. The girl obeyed immediately, draping herself over the back so her legs weren't touching the ground. Her hands grasped the armrest as the butler came forward and calmly lifted her petite black skirt over her bum. He patted her rear and smoothed down her knickers.

"Many guests prefer to do the honors themselves," murmured T. J. with a restrained smile.

Rob nodded, laughing, and with a great deal more fuss than necessary, he managed to tug the girl's underwear to her ankles. I felt a hot flush of envy as I saw the girl's gorgeous backside. Her arse was a flawless ivory, creamy and deliciously plump. She'd obviously been selected for employment based upon her posterior assets and not her skills as a chambermaid. I could see the lust in the three men's eyes as they focused on that girl's bare bum. Suddenly I was violently jealous, wishing I was in the girl's place, waiting for a thrashing, despite the glum certainty that my own bum would be thrashed soon enough.

Each of the three canes was tested in turn, Rob employing all his considerable wiry strength to make certain the girl's porcelain bottom was left with deep crimson stripes. Stinger was disgarded immediately as being too light, and the last two were tested a second time. Not satisfied, Rob had the butler fetch another case with a selection of two slender brown canes, which were subsequently tested upon the poor chambermaid's upturned arse.

Rob didn't like either of the brown canes, so they were removed and three more were brought and tested. The maid's quivering bottom was now so well-striped it was difficult to tell one mark from the next, so Rob retried Fire and the brown named Striper across the back of the girl's thighs. During this entire process the girl had remained steadfast and quiet, but now she trembled as she waited Rob's verdict. He placed his face about two inches from her arse and studied the marks intently.

"Not bad," he said finally. "I think Fire is slightly more rigid and has a better bite. I just wish it were a little longer."

"We have two longer models of that one," said T. J.

The girl caught her breath in fear.

"Yes, let me try them," said Rob excitedly. "I want all the leverage I can get. Erin needs to really feel the thrashing she has coming."

I blushed violently as everyone, the girl included, glanced in my direction. The butler vanished again, but returned far too quickly with yet another case. This one was over four feet long. Inside were two enormously long white canes, very thick and sturdy. I shuddered as I Rob lifted one out.

"That is Agony," said T.J. "The other is Torture."

The girl was breathing softly and I saw a great deal of emotion in her eyes. She struggled far more than she let on. A bead of sweat clung to her forehead. She tensed as Rob approached with the new, even more wicked cane.

"This girl is well-marked," said T. J. to Rob. "You cannot see your fresh marks. I'll get you a new target." The girl's eyes went wide with hope at her master's words.

"Don't bother," Ron said, and the girl's face fell. I nearly smiled at her forlorn expression. But Rob's next words made my heart turn to ice.

"I've got my own girl," he said. "Erin, get over the chair next to this naughty maid. Since this is a gift for you, you might as well give me the benefit of your judgement."

With everyone looking at me, I couldn't disobey. I moved like a robot. The maid scooted to one side of the large chair, and I climbed up next to her. Our smiles of mutual suffering were brief but passionate. There was an instant kinship between us.

It was quickly discovered that my pantsuit created an awkward problem: my bottom could not be bared easily. I was forced to climb down off the chair and strip completely, standing naked before three men, before remounting the chair to receive my whipping. T.J. seemed to find this intensely amusing, but he had some degree of mercy. He promptly ordered the maid -- whom he called Sherry -- to strip to keep me company.

Thus it was two naked girls who dangled over the large stuffed chair, our twin bare bums waiting the terrible sting of the four-footer named Agony. The velvet cushion beneath me rubbed my nipples, driving me mad. Next to me I could feel Sherry's warm and quivering body, her nakedness and mine arousing me painfully. I could smell her arousal, too, and I longed to suck her large breasts.

But there would be no such relief for me. Instead my bare bum was met by the agony of a slender rod of wood swung through the air with astonishing power. It felt like a hot poker pressing into my tender flesh and it was all I could do not to sceam. But I had Sherry's calm example to follow and somehow swallowed and absorbed the pain, tears leaking out the corners of my eyes. It was far worse because of my humiliating situation. I would have taken a dozen strokes like it from Rob in private, but here, exposed in front of strangers, I felt nothing but bitter horror.

Strangely, Sherry's subsequent stroke brought me comfort. Her agony had to be more acute than mine, for her arse was already well-striped, but she did not make a sound. Still, I knew she was enduring agony, and we clung together, sisters in suffering.

After testing Agony and Torture on the both of us, Rob proceeded to compare those marks with those of Fire and Striper which he tested on me. He finally settled on Torture as his choice, but to be certain, he announced, he'd give me "six-of-the-best" and see what I thought of the cane.

"How's that, Erin?" he cried after several terrible cuts. "Will this cane suffice?"

"Yes, sir!" I sobbed, shivering in terror at the knowledge that more strokes remained. Sherry moved her head and kissed my cheek softly, her voice soothing.

"Just hold on," she whispered. "It will be over quickly."

To someone who isn't frequently caned it is impossible to understand the gradations of pain possible from such a slender instrument of punishment. During those six from Rob I grew to a vivid comprehension that Heidi's frequent canings, which were often a dozen strokes or more, as being nothing but a sexy game. This was _punishment_.

My misery was compounded by Rob's casual comment that I'd receive my "real" six at his home that evening. I lay over the chair and wept softly as Rob discussed payment with T. J. I wasn't privy to the results of the transaction, but I gathered it was a considerable sum. Sherry, still clinging to the chair next to me, gave me a gentle kiss and told me that I looked beautiful when I cried, and I nodded bitterly, whispering that Rob had told me that many times, and most likely that was why I was in the position I was in now.

"Don't knock it," Sherry hissed back at me. "Not many girls are lucky enough to have a man with a hand like his. God, that man can cane!"

I grinned despite myself, for I knew that there was something Rob did even better than caning -- and tonight, after my six strokes, I'd experience it until we both passed out!

More to come next week!

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