Chapter 60

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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 60
Home at Last

(*****, M/F, Intense, Caning)

Erin finds her destiny and her wild adventures come to an end. (Approximately 946 words. Originally published 1998-02.)

With so much happening, summer past quickly for me. Soon it was regular school, with many more students, and much more work. To my surprise I felt into it with a contentment that astonished me. Teaching was enjoyable. I delighted in explaining things to my students, seeing their eyes open wide with excitement at some new philosophical concept.

I was at home in the small village, too. I joined the local church, bought my groceries at the little market where everyone knew my name and waved at me when I approached, and began to investigate plans to purchase a small house. I felt loved and accepted by everyone in town, and the students liked me, though they knew and respected that I was a tough disciplinarian. I slippered regularly, and caned occasionally, and that was enough to keep the wildness under control.

Every few weeks I met privately with Mr Morgan -- he insisted I call him Ron -- to discuss my "progress," and he refreshed my memory as to the particulars of a good caning. Our sessions lasted longer and longer, spending much more time talking and laughing than caning. Just being with the man calmed and refreshed me, and I delighted at his stern wielding of the rod. His beatings were always thorough and strict, but he never caned me out of anger -- it was always because he saw I wanted it. How he could tell I never understood, but he always knew.

Several times he didn't even bother to cane me, but we just sat and chatted, he letting me tell him of my crazy dreams and ideas, and I listening as he told me about his family and past.

One day in the spring, as I sat grading papers on a Saturday afternoon, Ron knocked on the door to my classroom.

"It's a beautiful day," he said. "Why are you working?"

"Essays take forever to mark," I said with a shrug. "I made the mistake of promising to assign one every week, and now I'm stuck reading them every week."

He laughed, seating himself on the edge of my desk.

"You haven't been to my study in a while," he whispered, his voice suddenly deep and stern. There was no questioning his meaning.

My heart bounced about crazily in my chest. I looked away, blushing.

"I- I think I am happy," I said at last. "I think for the first time in my life, I am truly happy."

"Are you saying you don't need it?"

I shook my head. "No, not that at all. Just not as often. I think it is sweeter when I wait, build up the anticipation, the desire."

He smiled, nodding pleasantly. "All the same, I think you should come down there now."

My knees felt weak. "Now?"


There was no way I could refuse. I stood awkwardly and followed him down the corridor. We did not speak. In his office I stripped naked while he fetched the cane. It had been over a month since my last dose, and the pain was sharper than I remembered. I struggled to keep still and obey him, but it was very hard. Every blow seemed to shatter something inside me. I wept uncontrollably from the first strike, and by the end I was lying in a puddle on his desk.

"That's good for now," he murmured after a dozen.

I remained in position while he talked to me. He spoke in vague, abstract terms of dreams and futures and desires and reality and life and death and I just lay there and sobbed, comforted only by his hand on my back, caressing me constantly, giving me strength and courage.

"There, now," he said after a long period of silence. He stroked my hair, petting me. "I think we should finish this, don't you?"

I didn't know what to say. More caning was not what I wanted at all, not then, not to spoil that delicate moment. But I nodded, too weak to resist.

He got behind me then, raising the cane high. It touched my bottom, then tapped me on the shoulder. I turned slightly, staring at him in confusion through my tears. The cane tip of the cane was pointed at my face. I tried to pull away but it followed me, insistent. Slowly I focused.

After a pause in which the universe seemed to halt, my heart flipped over and slowly died. It was too much. I grabbed the cane, slipping the tiny golden ring off the end. I knew what it was. There was no question in my mind. I looked at Ron and his smile melted away all my tears and all my fears.

"Is that a yes?" he asked.

He had known my answer long before I had. I saw that now, during all those long talks and sweet punishments he had known. I bet the rat had known from the first moment I'd walked into his office. But he'd waited for me to see it.

"What was the question?" I said impertinently.

He didn't even blink. "Will you be my wife?"

I pretended to think about it. "Will I be subject to your discipline?"

"That goes without saying."

"Then in that case, I accept!"

"Good. Now turn around. We need to finish this."

With a sigh of relief I bent over, thrusting out my bum for further punishment. For the first time in years I felt relaxed and confident. I deserved whatever he gave me, that was true. It was also true I didn't deserve him. I suppose the two together canceled each other out.


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