The Example

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Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1985-2016 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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The Example

(****, M/F, Intense, college girl caning)

A college professor disciplines a young lady on the first day of class as an extreme example. (Approximately 1,587 words. Originally published 1999-10.)

"Is this seat taken?" asked the young man, and the girl shook her head. "Name's Matt," he said, seating himself. "You majoring in sociology, too?"

"Minor. Music's my major."

"Ah. Nice." He glances around the large room, which is packed with several hundred coeds. There was hardly an empty seat. "Looks like a big crowd. Henderson's supposed to be a good teacher, I hear. A bit unconventional, but good."

"The best," said the girl. "My sister took his courses and said she learned more his class than all her other classes put together. My name's Sarah, by the way."

"Well, for a good teacher, he's taking his time showing up." Matt glanced at his watch and glared at the deserted lectern at the front of the room.

"He'll be worth it."

"He'd better be."

There was a sudden disturbance near the front row. A young blonde girl was standing, glaring at the guy next to her. "Well, fuck you!" she screamed. "I told you I was saving that seat for my friend!"

"What the-- you said no such thing!" gasped the young man. "You said I could sit here!"

"Fuckin' liar!" screamed the woman. "I suppose you're gonna say you didn't try to feel my ass, too?"

The young man was flaberghasted. "You're nuts, lady! I didn't touch you!"

"What the HELL is going on here?" roared a new voice, and everyone in the room froze. At the door stood a large man with a heavy beard. His dark eyes roamed the crowd, finally settling on the squabbling couple near the front.

"Young lady, explain yourself and your use of obscene language in my classroom!"

The girl appeared to be startled. "Oh, sorry, sir. It was nothing." She tried to sit back down, but the teacher would have nothing of it.

"Come to the front of the room."

The girl blushed furiously, glancing behind her at the other students, then reluctantly made her way to the front of the room. Matt made the quick assessment that she was stunningly gorgeous. Even from his seat near the top row he could admire the girl's youthful face and hourglass figure. Her tight jeans left little to the imagination.

"What's your name?" asked Professor Henderson.

The girl scowled. "Jessie."

"Well, Jessie, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"He took the seat I was saving!" She pointed at the young man in the front row who was shaking his head in protest.

"So that gave you the right to use obscene language and upset my class?"

"Well, yeah, I guess."

"You guess wrong," said the professor dryly. "There are no saving seats in my classes, and there's also no cause for improper language."

The girl glared at the man. "Well fuck you!" she said. "I don't need this shit!"

Not a person breathed in the room. Everyone could almost see the smoke rising from Professor Henderson's ears. His face was dark with barely controlled anger. Without saying a word he walked to his desk and opened a wide drawer. He reached inside and withdrew a long white wooden rod with a curled handle.

"This," said the professor, "is an English school cane. It's a junior version, hence its short length, but I suspect it will prove more than sufficient for a spoiled American girl like yourself."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I am going to cane you."

"Are you fucking nuts? I'm leaving. I quit!"

"Not so fast, young lady. In my class you will show respect to me and to your fellow students. I run a tight ship, and you're a perfect first-day example. So I will cane you. After that you may withdraw from my class if you wish."

The girl couldn't believe the man. She stared at him as though he was an alien being who'd just swapped heads or something equally impossible.

"If you chose not to cooperate, I'm sure Dean Miller will have no problem signing your dismissal papers."

"What? You can't do that!"

"I can and I will. Now, take my punishment or leave campus permanently."

No one in the room was breathing yet, waiting for the girl's response. She glared at the teacher, but it was obvious the fight was leaving her. Finally she nodded and said, "Fine. Let's get it over with," and everyone cheered.

"Shut the fuck up!" she shouted at the audience, then turned to the professor. "So, how do we do this?"

"Well, first, you must take down those jeans. As fashionable as they are, they provide too much protection for your skin."

"No way!" gasped the girl. "I'm not taking down my jeans."

"Either that or I'll double the number of strokes."

"Fine," said the girl. "I'm not taking down my jeans."

"Then it will be two dozen."

"Two dozen? Are you fucking crazy?"

"It's only a dozen if you take down your jeans."

Suddenly the girl blushed, her cheeks going crimson. She shuffled her feet and looked awkwardly at the floor. "I can't." She hesitated, then shrugged. "I'm not wearing underwear," she hissed.

"That is not my problem," said the professor. "But since the embarrassment of a bare-bottom caning amounts to something, I'll reduce your caning to eight strokes if you remove your jeans."

"Go for it!" screamed a man's voice, and instantly the professor's head whirled toward the crowd.

"Enough of that!" he cried, "or you'll join her!" There was instant, utter silence.

"Okay," said the girl. "What the hell. It's not like no one's seen my bare ass before."

Matt couldn't believe his eyes as the stunning girl unbuttoned her jeans and slowly drew them down. True to her word, she wore no panties. Her bare bottom was lusciously smooth and creamy, full and round without a defect. Half the audience shifted uncomfortably in their seats, awkwardly adjusting their pants.

"Bend over the desk," ordered the professor, and the girl reluctantly obeyed. She stretched her arms out in front of her, holding on to the other side of the desk. Her legs were held tightly together, her bare buttocks pointing at the crowd.

Stepping up behind her, the professor held the cane level with the middle of her bottom. Slowly he drew it back and then, with a sudden movement, lashed it forward.

There was a loud "whooosh" as the cane whipped through the air followed by a dull "thwack!" The stunned silence of the room was broken by a shriek from the girl.

"Seven more to come," muttered the professor. "Stay down or I'll start the caning over from the beginning."

Moaning, the girl stayed in position as the cane whipped across her butt again. Two parallel lines, like a set of red railroad tracks, glistened across the perfect globes.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! came the cane. The girl writhed and moaned loudly.


"FUCK!" screamed the girl, arching her back and writhing vigorously.

"Be still," growled the professor, and he swung the cane again.

"Oh God!" howled the girl. "I'm sorry! I fucking sorry!"

"One more... here it comes!"


"Eeeek!" screamed the girl. Slowly she rose, wiping tears from her eyes. "May I go now?"

"If you wish."

"Hell yes!" said the girl with a scowl. She bent and pulled her jeans up over her streak-marked ass. "I wouldn't take this class if you fucking paid me!"

"Good," remarked Professor Henderson. He turned to the rest of the class. "Anyone else wish to leave? Like I said, I run a tight ship: I only want serious students in my courses."

There was a short pause, then a young woman stood and practically ran for the door. Two others quickly followed, and then it was a swarm. When the rout was over, half the class was gone.

"Hmmm. Bigger crowd than last year," murmured the professor. "I hope the rest of you are serious."

Matt grinned at Sarah, who was fidgeting in her seat but hadn't left. "I guess we're staying."

Sarah, somehow pale and blushing at the same time, grins back shyly.


The blue Toyota pulls into the driveway of a modest two-story home in a secluded neighborhood and a heavyset man with a full beard climbs out. He retrieves a briefcase from the trunk of his car and heads up the walkway.

Inside the house, a young blonde girl awaits. She's naked, lying on the sofa, and her bottom is a maze of finger-thick red welts.

"Come fuck me, you monster," she moans.

"Oh? Are you needy?" muses the man as he calmly shuts the door and begins to undo his tie.

"Hell, I haven't been this horny since last semester's first class!" giggled the girl.

"It is your favorite day of the year, isn't it," sighed the professor.

"Don't you think you overdid it a bit this time?"

"Never. The class needed a good example." The man eased himself onto the sofa and kissed the woman for several breaths. "In fact, I may have to take the strap to you -- you enjoyed yourself a bit too much, all those gawking college boys..."

"Mmmmmmm, yes," whispered the girl. "And I suppose you didn't enjoy being the man in authority for all those father-figure-seeking college girls? They'll be drooling for you all semester!"


"Of course. But I trust you."

"You'd better, or I'd never have married you."

"Enough talk," growled the girl.

The professor, being an intelligent man, knew exactly what she meant, and complied with vigor and authority, exactly as she liked it.

The End

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