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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(****, M/f, Severe, Teen caning)
An American teenager visits a British friend prior to her entrance to a strict London school and receives an unusual favor. (Approximately 4,530 words. Originally published 1996-02.)
Elizabeth looked at her American friend in surprise. "Why, Jessie! What a delight! Please come in." She pulled the blushing teenager into the house and in moments the two girls were giggling in the older girl's bedroom. They chatted for a bit about the latest from America, boyfriends, clothes, music, and hunky rock stars. Finally Elizabeth couldn't hold back her curiosity any longer.
"So, what brings you to London?"
Jessie flushed and looked embarrassed. Her eyes went to the window and she slowly told the story. "My Dad is sending me to boarding school here," she said with a deep sigh. "I was getting into a lot of trouble back home, hanging out with the wrong crowd and all. A bunch of us got busted for shoplifting and Dad said that was the last straw. He said my time with Aunt Meg and Uncle Henry last summer did me a world of good and he thought that some traditional British discipline was what I needed. I'm to start at St. Catherine's next week."
The tall redhead's eye's widened with astonishment. "He's sending you to St. Catherine's?"
The American girl nodded. "They're supposed to be really strict."
Elizabeth laughed uneasily. "Strict is putting it mildly. I've heard stories that would curl your hair. Are you sure you can handle it?"
"What do you mean?"
The older girl frowned. "Well, don't take this the wrong way but you American girls don't seem to be, er, well, very tough. I mean look how you reacted to that little slippering from your Aunt last summer!"
Jessica blushed crimson. Oh, if only she could wipe out that humiliating memory! Just thinking of when Aunt Meg had taken the slipper to her and Liz and a couple their friends right outside on the grassy front lawn in front of the entire neighborhood sent shivers down Jessie's spine. She shook her head valiantly and spoke with a bravery she didn't really feel. "That wasn't so bad. You have to remember it was my first experience with corporal punishment."
She thought of how she had blubbered and yelled at the slipper; it had hurt far more than she ever would have thought possible. The worst was how Liz and the other girls had reacted, calmly and with dignity, taking their spanking with the knowledge that they deserved it. They were embarrassed but they hadn't put up a fuss and screamed liked they were being cut into pieces. Jessie had never felt more ashamed. She'd acted like a baby.
"A slippering is nothing compared to a caning," sniffed the older girl with a pride that indicated she was obviously familiar with both methods of chastisement. "If you go to St. Catherine's you will no doubt experience plenty of both."
The young blonde girl nodded, her face pale and frightened. She swallowed with a great deal of difficulty and looked at her friend. "Y-you've had the cane then? I-I know they use it at St. Catherine's--my father told me so. Oh, please tell me it's not so bad! I'm so scared!" Jessica's eyes were wide with terror and she threw her arms around the startled redhead and hugged her tightly. "I don't know how I can take it," she wailed in despair and breaking into sudden sobbing. "I just know I will weep and make a fool out of myself."
"There, there," whispered Elizabeth gently, petting the long strands of blonde hair that trailed down her friend's narrow back. "It's all right. Everything will be fine. You're a tough girl--you can take it. It's the first time that's the worst. After that it's a piece of cake. For the first you imagine all sorts of horrible things of what it will be like and it's never quite that bad, though somehow that makes it worse."
The younger girl cried in her friend's arms for a long time before she sat up and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I am so afraid, Liz. What's it like? Is it really as bad as I've heard?"
Elizabeth smiled at her friend. Her eyes glazed as she thought back to the various times she'd tasted the cane. "It's an experience you will never forget, let me tell you that. It-It's intense, unbelievably intense. But the worst is the waiting, the preparation. Here, stand up, let me show you."
Liz helped the younger girl to her feet and guided her to the small writing desk in the corner. "Bend over the desk, like that. Perfect. Now you are wearing pants--that won't be permitted at St. Catherine's. Their uniform's a skirt and white stockings. Depending upon how badly you misbehaved you will take the cane skirt up, either across your panties or on your bare bum."
"Bare!" gasped Jessica in horror, wiggling as she tried maintain her uncomfortable position across the desk. Her breasts were pressed painfully against the hard surface and her bottom stuck out behind her in a manner that felt lewd and vulgar. "No one ever said that before!"
"It's standard. There's also a range of canes they use, from the small junior girl's cane to the senior boy's. I've only heard one case of a girl getting the boy's cane, but it does happen in cases of severe disobedience. My Dad uses a senior girl's cane. Here, let me show you."
The redhead walked to her closet and pulled out a long thin rattan cane. It was about three feet long and very thin and bendy. Elizabeth flexed it to show her friend how it bent. She swung it through the air a few times.
The hair on Jessie's neck rose at the whistling sound of the cane through the air. She shook her head frantically. "I'll never be able to do it, I just know I won't. I'll cry and grab my butt and run from the room!"
"Oh, _never_ do that!" said Elizabeth with a look of fear. "Never, never, *never* try to escape the punishment. Don't cover your bum or even stand up when being caned--they'll just bring in girls to hold you down and give you extra strokes for not cooperating. It's not worth it, believe me. And the girls who hold you will tell everyone about how well you took your caning. Your reputation would be destroyed!"
"Oh, but what I am to do? I can't help but try to get away. It hurts too much!"
"Crimmy, it's not that bad," scolded Elizabeth sternly. "It just hurts a lot right at first, when the stroke first lands. You will feel an overwhelming flood of pain go through you, more pain than you ever thought capable of enduring. That's when you have to hold on. It seems impossible, but if you just hold on it passes. During your first caning those few seconds seem to last forever, but trust me--it's only for a few seconds, perhaps ten or fifteen at the most. Then the real pain goes away and you are left with a throbbing bum and a painful memory. Each stroke is like that but soon it fades and you just have a sore bottom. It's not so bad. It's just each stroke that seems to kill you."
"I won't be able to hold on, I know it," blubbered the American girl, tears already forming in her eyes just thinking of the horrible punishments she would soon be forced to receive at her new school. She thought of having to bend over and present her bottom for punishment. She couldn't do it. Just the thought filled with such revulsion and terror she could not control herself. She knew she couldn't do it. They'd have to bring in some girls to hold her down and then everyone would know what a crybaby she was. Her cheeks reddened as she imagined the scene.
"You know," murmured Elizabeth suddenly, "if you'd like I could you a favor."
"Well, I could give you your first caning myself, right here, right now."
"Think about it. The first is always the worst because you don't really know what to expect. If I gave you a caning you wouldn't be so afraid of the ones you'll be sure to get in school."
"T-that's crazy," breathed Jessie, but inside she knew she liked the idea. She wasn't too excited about getting the cane right now but she knew it would make her first time at St. Catherine's more bearable.
"Come on. I'll give you 'six of the best,' as they say. Wouldn't you rather blubber and cry here in front of me than in front of all your friends at school? I won't tell anyone. I made a real scene my first time, but that was from my father, not at school. In fact, I was grateful he gave me the cane at home--I saw other girls who reacted badly to it because they never got it at home and didn't know what to expect."
Jessica could feel her resistance waning, but she was terribly frightened. "W-Won't your parents hear?" She desperately needed some excuse to get out of this.
"They aren't home. Dad's still at work and Mum's at the shop. She won't be back for an hour or so. Peter's out somewhere. We're alone and we've got the time if you've got the will."
Still Jessica felt afraid. "Can you do it gentle?" she asked, her heart pounding. She couldn't believe she was even considering this! But she was very curious about what the cane felt like. Was it really as awful as everyone said?
"What would be the point of me being gentle? You think the headmistress at St. Catherine's is going to be gentle?" Jessie shook her head. "Absolutely not. I'll give you my best strokes but even then I doubt they'll be as hard as what you'll get at school. Some of those teachers can really whack!"
Jessica felt her heart fluttering. "Alright," she whispered under her breath.
"Alright. I said, alright. Let's get it over with. Cane me." She gritted her teeth and resolved to take this as calmly as she could. Her palms were sweating and she felt her body begin to tremble in fear but she could not let Elizabeth see her cry. She would do her darnedest to keep her struggling to a minimum.
Elizabeth smiled. "Good. Now let's do this the real way. I'm going to be the headmistress and you will address me as 'Headmistress Heally' at all times. Now take off those pants. I've got a skirt you can put on for this scene."
"Because that's part of the punishment. There's nothing quite as embarrassing as being bent over and your skirt lifted--it's far worse than being naked. Come on."
The tall redhead dragged the smaller girl to her closet and selected a rather plain skirt of moderate length and helped the American girl put it on. Growing really nervous now, Jessica kicked off her shoes and pulled down her jeans. Her bare legs felt chilly and she shivered as she pulled the skirt over her panties. She was suddenly glad she was wearing thick cotton briefs instead of one of her daintier pairs.
"All right, now before we begin we must decide some things. What did you do?"
Jessica looked at her friend with a frown. "What are you talking about?"
"I mean for the _scene_. Why are you being punished? Did you steal something perhaps? No, I've got it--you cheated on an examine! That's certainly worth six-of-the-best!"
"But I'd never cheat--" began Jessica.
"You did this time. Now it's time to take your medicine. I want you to go outside and wait in the hall. Count to two hundred very slowly and then knock. I will tell you when to come in."
A shiver passed through Jessica. She nodded and went out. At the door she paused as Elizabeth spoke: "Now don't forget--I'm 'Headmistress' Heally. We are doing this _real_, Jessie, so you can get a feel of what it would be like. Any disobedience or complaints from you I will handle _exactly_ like the real Mrs. Heally. If you break character or act up I will cane you extra! Do you understand?"
The little girl at the door suddenly felt much smaller. She nodded softly and left, closing the door behind her. Outside, she leaned against the wall and began to count silently. She had trouble concentrating--her mind was too distracted by her knowledge of what was going to come. Was she insane? Why was she doing this? Could she really go through with it? Perhaps she should run away right now.
But then she shook her head with a fierce determination. No, she would be no chicken. She'd take whatever Liz gave with a smile! That would show her! Inside, Jessie didn't feel nearly so brave but she didn't care. She knew that running away would only increase her fear and hesitation. She needed to get this over with, to put it behind her (literally), so she could face herself in the future.
She sighed deeply. Two hundred. It was time. Slowly her hand went to the door and she knocked three times. Then she waited.
Elizabeth heard the knock and a shiver of excitement went through her body. Jessie was going to do it! She could hardly believe her good fortune. She did not move, however, but sat quietly at the desk and pretended to work.
The knock came again, louder and more insistent. Still she did not move. At the third knock she gave a deep sigh and leaned back in her chair and stared at the doorway.Ê"Come in," she said crisply.
Jessica entered. Her skirt made her look like a perfect little schoolgirl, prim and proper. She looked very nervous.
"Ah, Miss Jessica," said Elizabeth loudly, in her best critical, scolding tone. "So nice of you to visit me again. What have you done this time?"
"Yes, why were you sent here, child!"
"Oh." Suddenly the pieces leapt together and Jessie looked down at the ground. "I-I was cheating, Ma'am."
"Cheating! That's reprehensible! We do not permit cheating at this school young lady. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Headmistress Heally."
Elizabeth glared at the smaller girl who stood meekly before her with her hands folded in front of her skirt. "I am afraid, Miss Jessica, that I have no recourse but to punish you. Now I know you are new to this school but we have strict rules here. Cheating is quite serious. I have no alternative but to use the cane."
Jessie's vision blurred with tears and she stared up at her friend. Her heart was beating wildly and she felt as though the air around her was thick and unbreathable. She opened her mouth but no words escaped. She dropped her head and stared at the floor instead.
Elizabeth walked over to the girl. "You have never been caned before, Miss Jessica, so I will be lenient--only six strokes with the senior girl's cane. But if I see you in here again for cheating do not think that you will receive less than the full twelve for such an offense!"
"Yes, Headmistress Heally," gulped Jessica.
"Now. Fetch me the cane." Elizabeth pointed to the closet and Jessica quietly walked to the opening and found the cane hanging on a small hook near the back. Her hand was trembling as she took it out and carried it to her friend. The cane was heavier than she had expected and suddenly Jessica wasn't sure this was such a good idea. This was going to hurt.
"Step over here, young lady," commanded the older girl in an imperious tone. "Bend over the back of this chair and grasp the seat with your hands. Contrary to our normal rules, I shall grant you one instance of noncooperation--yelling, standing up, letting go of the chair, or trying to protect your buttocks with your hands--but no more than one. Any further noncooperation will result in extra strokes. Do you understand me, girl?"
The young American girl nodded, awkwardly getting herself into position. It was similar to the position she had taken earlier, but their was one painfully significant difference: this time Jessica knew that it wasn't just for show. In just a moment she would feel the sting of that cane. She didn't know how she could endure it.
She heard and felt the tall girl behind her. Liz was touching Jessie's hips, toying with her skirt. Then Jessie gasped as her friend lifted the skirt up to expose her bottom and folded the skirt across her lower back. A breeze drifted across Jessie's bare legs and suddenly she felt naked and exposed, her panties skimpy. She had never felt so vulnerable, so helpless. Tears filled her eyes and she felt an incredible pressure in her chest. A huge knot in her belly didn't help her comfort either. All this tension and terror and the caning hadn't even begun!
Then Jessica heard a sound that sent a chill down her spine and froze her heart in mid-beat. She gulped loudly and let out a slight whimper. Behind her Liz swooshed the cane through the air once more in a practice stroke, the noise petrifying. "I think we are ready now," said the tall girl finally. "Are you ready for your caning?"
"P-please, Headmistress!" gasped Jessie, her eyes burning. "I am so afraid!"
"Hush, child," snapped the older girl. "You are a big girl now. You have been naughty and must be punished so you will learn how to behave properly. Now be quiet and accept your punishment with the grace and dignity of all girls of St. Catherine!"
Jessica began to cry. She couldn't help it. Her fingers ached with tension and shooting pains were moving up her forearms. Her calves were growing sore from her stretched, tiptoed position, and her mouth felt dry and tasted like ashes. She felt sick as though she was going to vomit.
"Here we go," said Liz quietly, and Jessica felt the cold, hard wood of the cane press firmly against her thrust-out bottom. She couldn't believe she was doing this and yet she couldn't move. She felt helpless. She held her breath and waited, afraid to breathe, afraid to think, afraid of everything.
Whoosh! went the cane. Jessie heard it and winced and rose up as high as she could on her tiptoes, her terror so great she couldn't think. Then she felt the pressure. A dull pushing that suddenly blossomed into a furious stinging that grew and grew until the girl was positive it was nothing short of a red-hot branding iron being pressed against her ass.
"Ahhhhhggggggg," she gurgled, tears flooding to her eyes and she threw her head from side to side and struggled frantically to hold her position. The searing pain that engulfed her quivering ass cheeks was nothing short of phenomenal--even in her agony she found herself astonished that she could live through this, that everywhere, all over the world and all through history, girls and boys were routinely punished like this and lived to tell about it.
It was only then that the pain faded. It wasn't gone--not by a long shot. Her bottom throbbed and she could feel the thin line of angry pain across both cheeks, right at the center of her butt. But the pain had changed. It was no longer unbearable, a mind-blinding fuck-anything kind of pain. Now it was a dully throbbing, an almost pleasant ache, like muscles after exercise. Jessica began to pant and breath again.
"That was number one," said Elizabeth firmly. "Get ready for number two."
This time Jessie heard the crack. She was ready, or thought she was. But the line of blistering agony left by the cane overwhelmed her and she couldn't help but cry out, whimpering and beginning to sob. The pain stunned her. Her ass felt blistered and bruised and little Jessie did not see how she was going to take--let's see--_four_ more strokes? It was impossible. She couldn't do it.
But she _must_ do it. Somehow she must hold on. Desperately she clung to the chair and waggled her butt (as if that would actually help) and wept miserably.
Stroke three came and it was all Jessie could do not to scream. She felt like her ass was being cut in two. The cane seemed inhuman, impossible. She had to bleeding, cut. She could almost feel the blood dripping down the backs of her legs. Her ass felt scorched and toasted.
Wooosh-CRACK! This one was low, right at the base of her bottom where the cheeks joined the thighs. The flesh there was thin and tender, incredibly sensitive, and Jessica leaped to her feet and reached back and grabbed her bottom. She didn't think about it. She didn't even know that she'd done it. All she knew was red pain that filled her mind and the only thing that made sense was to reach back and try to protect her naked flesh.
"Woah, that's enough, girl! Get back over the chair, Miss Jessica. Now!"
The distant voice roared at her and slowly Jessica opened her eyes and became aware of where she was. Her friend Elizabeth stood glaring at her, the long cane in her right hand, stray curls of red hair curling in front of her angry face. A pit of fear began to form in Jessie's stomach and without a thought she quickly obeyed her friend and climbed back over the chair. Her bottom was on fire, lines of pain everywhere, dozens of stings and throbs and dull poundings. Jessica wept in dismay and prayed this would soon be over.
"That was only number four," said Elizabeth in her sternest voice. "We have two more to go. You just used your only safety, so don't you _dare_ get up again or I'll give two extra strokes!"
Jessica nodded and cried, her tears lessening and her heart calming slightly. "Just two more," she thought desperately. "Just two more. You can do it. Just two more!"
The cracking sound startled her. It took her a moment to realize it was the cane. And then the pain hit--a duller tidal wave of agony. Jessica broke out in a deep sweat, every part of her body tense and alert. She felt a tingling between her legs and groaned in dismay. She wished she could touch herself down there, just for a second. She wanted that more than anything else in the world, even more than she wanted the pain to stop.
It seemed like a long time later but it was only seconds before she heard the words. They didn't mean anything at first, but slowly she translated them into "Now this last stroke is going to be on your bare bottom. Take down your panties."
Jessica didn't move. She couldn't. Her ass throbbed and pulsed and her body convulsed with dry sobs. She couldn't think. Her hands gripped the chair seat with such force she worried she'd break it.
"Miss Jessica! Did you hear me? I said, take down your underwear!"
Jessica didn't move.
"Now, girl, or I'll start the caning over from the beginning!"
The young girl felt something snap. Suddenly she didn't care any more. She unlocked her hands from the chair, the muscles aching, and reached back to her panties. Taking the tiny elastic band in her fingers she dragged the cloth downward.
"Mmmnnn," she moaned as the smooth cloth rubbed like sandpaper across her welted and blistered bottom. She moved her hand inward and managed to rub her bottom slightly as she took down her panties and was amazed. The skin of her bottom felt like a moonscape, rocked and pitted with bumps and ridges. Tears stung her eyes as she tried to imagine what such punished flesh looked like, undoubtedly red and purplish. But then Jessie was filled with a sense of pride. She had almost done it! Just one more stroke and she would have taken her first caning!
With a heave she bent low and pushed her panties to her ankles. Then she bent back over the chair. "Do your worst," she thought. "I can take it."
Elizabeth eyed the naked and welted bottom before her. Jessie was young and pretty, her bottom firm and smooth. Well, at least her butt used to be smooth. But Liz knew the value of a good caning. Jessica would appreciate this in the long run. One more stroke. Just one, but it would be the best of all. She pulled the cane back as far as she could, way past her shoulder and up high. Then she swung it forward with all the strength of her seventeen years.
Jessica couldn't believe it. It was worse than all the others. Despite everything, despite all she had learned, all she had endured, all she had prepared, the pain was more than she had expected.
It blinded her. It filled her with revulsion, elation, terror, relief, exhaustion, excitement--an overwhelming flood of contradictory emotions that confused and bewildered her. She collapsed in a heap, sobbing.
Yet she felt good. She looked up into Elizabeth's smiling eyes and she smiled, relief mixing with pride. She wiped her eyes of the last of her tears and slowly stood up on shaky legs. She kicked off the panties, the cool cloth of the skirt falling back across her bottom.
"You weren't kidding, Liz. That was intense!"
Elizabeth giggled. "I told you. You feel better?"
Jessica nodded. "T-thanks, Liz. I feel much better."
"Think you can endure a real caning now?"
"I hope so. At least I know why it frightens me now. It won't destroy me it sure hurts!"
The two girls hugged and Elizabeth took the younger one into the bathroom and helped her out of her clothes and into the shower. The warm water felt cold across Jessica's burnt bottom and she thought she had never felt anything more soothing. She was filled with an incredible release of tension. She hadn't been this relaxed in weeks. Though she was still afraid of St. Catherine's, she now knew what to expect. She smiled at the redhead and accepted the towel from her.
"Thanks, Liz. You're a peach."
The girl grinned and flipped her hair back. "Well, any time you think you need a reminder, just ask and I can deliver."
"I doubt that will be necessary. I imagine I'll receive more than my share at school."
"Well I insist you come and tell me about them, every one. I want to know the whole story in detail, stroke by stroke. You can show me the stripes. You promise?"
Jessie shivered and blushed. Boy, that was going to be embarrassing. The thought filled her with excitement, however. She could hardly wait for her first caning so she could show her friend the marks. Slowly she nodded. "I promise."
Both girls grinned at each other.