Fragment 01: The Agreement

Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1985-2020 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.
This is another of what I'm calling my "Fragment" series--these are incomplete, unfinished stories or scenes that frankly, I probably will never go back and finish. Some of them were written long ago, but while they often have some degree of merit, they can't be judged like a real story.

Anyway, I hope you them. I will be posting them occasionally when my supply of "real" stories runs low. Let me know if it's worth the bother!

(The Flogmaster)

The Agreement

(**, m/ff, Intense, cons whipping)

A girl remembers how she and her sister were routinely punished by a neighborhood boy. (Approximately 1,149 words. Originally published 1996-02.)

How my sister and I got into the situation I'll never know. I think it started with something we were going to get in trouble over, but I can't for the life of me remember what. I couldn't have been that significant since both of us were pretty good kids and I would have remembered it if it had been something really naughty.

At any rate we knew Mark since we were kids. He was our best friend. We all lived out in rural Oklahoma and we were the only kids around. He was a little older than us and we adored him. We were both rather tomboys then, and he was amazing with all the physical adjility he had.

We must have been around fourteen we it started. Again, I don't remember the specifics of what caused it. The first thing I remember is being in the woods with my sister and Mark, and him ordering us to drop our pants and bend over. I remember how strange that made me feel inside, sort of moist between my legs, and how Barbara and I had obeyed even though we felt rather ashamed.

Then we had to pull down our panties. That was difficult, but it was more difficult to wait there bent over with our pants and underwear around our ankles so we couldn't walk.

Then he showed us the belt. It was thick leather belt, very wide and heavy. It belonged to his dad. He said his dad always gave him twenty stroke with it when he needed it, and that's what he was going to do with us. I began to cry a little when he said that.

I heard the belt whistle through the air and slap against Barb's bare skin and I winced. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her struggling not to cry. Suddenly I felt a horrible stinging across my bottom and I realized I'd been whipped. Then Barb got another, then me.

In minutes I was crying, my buttocks stinging with pain. They felt swollen and hot but still Mark continued to whip us. Barb cried out at one point and he scolded her, warning us that if we cried out the stroke wouldn't count. When he had given us each the full twenty he stopped and let us pull our pants back on.

"That's good for today," Mark said galantly. "I'll see you both back here tomorrow."

That was the beginning. Every day that week we met Mark in the woods and let him whip us. At first I think there were reasons, little excuses for the punishment. But soon we were just whipped for no reason. Mark ordered us to bend over and we did. Almost every day that summer we got whipped, sometimes twice a day. I remember a couple of Saturdays we had to meet Mark early in the morning for our whipping, and after a long day of exploring and playing and some farm work, we met him in the evening for another.

This continued all during high school. Mark would see us at school and give us the signal and later than night we'd meet him and take our whipping.

He never tried anything sexual with us, though I think we would have been willing. He would just whip us and perhaps compliment us on how well we'd taken the whipping or how nice our asses were. For some reason these praises seemed to fill us with pride.

There were two weird things about this arrangement. One was that Barb and I never spoke about it. Never. Which is really unusual. Barb and I are twins, you see, identical twins. We share everything. But perhaps nothing needed to be said about Mark. I don't know. We both just cooperated silently and never spoke about it.

Another weird thing about this was that it never interfered with our other relationships. We both are attractive. (At least she tells me I'm pretty and I think she is!) We have both dated a lot. But no matter how sexually or romantically involved we were with other boys it did not change our relationship with Mark. When he called or snapped his fingers we bent over. Just like that. No hesitation. The only way I remember it making a difference was a couple of times guys went to squeeze my butt and it hurt me more than they suspected, since I was still sore from a recent whipping.

But don't think that we enjoyed these whippings. They hurt. Mark was strict with us. We often took extra strokes for being late or not stripping fast enough. Again there was nothing sexual about it. Everything was extremely formal.

And yet I often felt aroused. Just the thought of going into the woods for my whipping sent shivers through my sex and in my mind I could almost feel the harsh blows striking my tender naked flesh. Yet the pain of the whipping always cooled my passion and it was only later, alone in bed, that would touch myself and squeeze my bottom and come to tremendous orgasms remembering the whipping.

When Barb and I got accepted to Oklahoma State we were happy to discover that Mark had also been accepted. So all through college we kept our agreement, meeting Mark at his basement studio apartment and taking our punishment. Again there was no thought of disagreement or running away. Again there was no sex involved. It was just a pain ritual, one we went through a dozen or more times a month.

In college there were a couple of changes. One, we had to be completely naked. No more of this just dropping our pants thing. Mark gave us a key to his place and we had to let ourselves in at the time he specified and strip and wait for him. Sometimes he would be there shortly; other times he wouldn't get there for hours. We got in position and waited. It was frustrating, but neither of us complained.

It was always the two of us. When one of us couldn't make it we had to reschedule. (And we were punished extra for having to reschedule.) Any time one of us made a mistake or was late, it was both of us that were punished.

The End