The Janitor

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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 Janitor

(***, M/f13, Severe, n/c schoolgirl)

A schoolgirl is selected to be one of the creepy janitor's nightly victims of discipline. (Approximately 3,169 words. Originally published 1997-08.)

As the clock struck ten, Sera felt her heart begin to thump. Who would it be tonight? Oh God, she hoped it wouldn't be her. She'd gotten the slipper twice today, and her ass was still sore from yesterday's six from Headmistress Molly's cane.

"Psst. Melissa!" she hissed.

The redhead in the bed next to her rolled over, glaring at her friend. "What is it? It's after lights out, you know."

"Yeah. Brutus will be here soon, won't he."

"I suppose," Melissa said with a deep sigh. She didn't appear interested in speculation.

"Aren't you worried you'll get picked?"

"Well, if I do, worrying about it beforehand's not going to do much good, is it?"

"I guess not." Sera frowned. Melissa was a strange girl. Punishment never seemed to bother her. She took it in stride, as though it was nothing more than an inconvenience like the kitchen being out of fresh milk.

"Didn't you get the stick just this morning?" asked Sera, trying to provoke a reaction from her roommate.

"Yeah. Eight good ones from Mr. Mallery. He said it was the third time he'd reprimanded me for not paying attention, but I know it was only the second. I think he just wanted to cane me."

"Why'd you get eight!"

"Oh, it was supposed to be six, of course, but when I complained that it was only my second notice he added two for cheek. Bastard."

"God, I hate the cane," whispered Sera.

"Oh, you'll get used to it. Didn't your parents cane you?"

"Never. My mother slippered me a few times, but that was it."

"You're lucky, I guess. Oh, shit, here comes Barbara!"

The tall prefect was just entering the room, tapping her palm with the large leather plimsoll in her hand. "It's after lights out, girls. Who's talking."

Melissa and Sera closed their eyes as the girl passed. Sera thought they'd escaped and was breathing a sigh of relief when she sensed a presence behind her. She turned and saw Barbara glaring at her from the far side of her bed.

"You were talking, weren't you!" she snapped.

"Uh, no," mumbled Sera desperately.

Barbara grinned and Sera knew instantly she'd made a serious mistake. "That will be an extra dozen for lying to me. Care to try again?"

Sera knew there was no hope. She bowed her head. "Yes, Prefect Barbara, I was talking."

"And you, too, Melissa."

"No!" cried Sera. "It was just me. I was talking to her but she wouldn't answer."

"Nice try, Sera, but it's not going to work. Now both of you, out of bed and over the post!"

Groaning, the two girls climbed out of bed. Clad only in nightshirts and panties, the room suddenly felt chilly. Sera went to the foot of her bed and bent herself over the footboard and waited. Melissa assumed the same position on her bed.

The blond prefect walked to behind Sera first. "A dozen for talking," she said firmly, flipping up Sera's thin nightshirt. The round cheeks of the girl's plump bottom protruded impertinently from beneath the skimpy covering of her panties. Sera wiggled slightly, dreading the inevitable.

WHACK! came the slipper, landing full on her left cheek. Sera winced but didn't make a sound. The room was as silent as a tomb--everyone would hear her if she cried out over a little slippering. Sera may not have been very tough, but she was determined to get through her school year with some dignity. She would not cry.

Again and again the heavy leather walloped her buttocks, bringing forth a rosy warmth and watery eyes. Barbara took her time, spanking the girl deliberately, timing each whack so as the pain from one blow faded the next one exploded on the other cheek.

Then it was Melissa's turn, and Sera had to stay in position, quietly waiting her extra punishment, as the redhead's rump was well-toasted.

"Now for your lying," said Barbara, returning to young Sera. The girl squirmed as she knew this spanking would be even worse. Before Sera could protest, Barbara stepped behind her and jerked down her panties.

Crimmy! she thought with a curse. This was going to really sting on the bare!

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! came the blows, hard and fast, full across both cheeks. Up and down her bottom they went, beating out a drum dance. Sera couldn't help but gasp and breath heavily, hissing at the pain. It was all she could do to stay in position.

"Very well. Now you two get in bed. If I have to come in here again I shall take you both to the Head for the cane!"

Barbara closed the door behind her as she went out.

"Shit that hurt!" hissed Sera as she hopped into bed, being careful to lie on her belly this time.

"Shut up!" growled Melissa. "Unless you _want_ the cane."

The room was quiet for a few minutes, and then Sera heard the thump. It was dull and sounded like it was far away, but she knew the sound well. It was Brutus. He was coming. Oh, shit, he loved nothing more than a freshly spanked bottom to practice on. And there was no doubt that Sera's was the reddest in the room at the moment.

The door slid open a crack and a man walked inside, thumping as he moved. The thump came from his right leg where from the knee down it was made of wood. He'd lost it in a mining accident thirty years ago, when a massive rock had pinned him down. Now he was nothing but the night janitor at a modest girl's school, struggling to make ends meet on his meager salary and the tiny pension he received for his injury.

There were other rewards, however. Seventeen years ago a snotty girl named Andrea Morgandorfer had made a dreadful mistake. Generations later, girls still suffered from her error. Her family had once been wealthy, but after her father's business failed, they become of common class. She refused to accept this, however, and was the most insufferable snob ever to attend the Academy. She treated Brutus worse than a stray dog, and he hated her. One day she'd gone too far, verbally abusing him within earshot of the Headmistress at that time. Brutus had been given the opportunity to cane the naughty wench, and a precedent had been set. From then on, all school personnel had the right to discipline students. There was no committee or referral process--just a stout cane hanging in the main hall that anyone could borrow for any need.

Over the years Brutus took greater and greater advantage of his power, and now, to the dismay of hundreds of schoolgirls, he used his privilege nightly. In six years only one girl had protested his treatment--her refusal had led Brutus to report her to the Head. The story of her terrible punishment was legendary. The current incarnation suggested she'd gotten two dozen of the strap from the Head, caned a dozen on the bare by Brutus in front of all the girls in her dormitory room, and the next morning received three dozen fresh birch weals from the Head. Most likely the story was exaggerated, but who wanted to take the chance that it was not?

So every night after ten, Brutus would stop by each dorm room and select one lucky girl. The chosen girls would assemble in the basement in the workroom next to the boiler. The ancient heating system made far too much noise for any of the administration to hear the discipline, and of course the prefects didn't mind--they were exempt from Brutus' selections.

As Brutus approached, each girl quickly knelt on their covers, pulled down their panties, baring their bottoms for his inspection. The reddest bottom won. This was his favorite method of selection--hot bottoms were his favorite. If there was any question in the choice, Brutus made his decision based upon criteria unknown to the girls.

Tonight it was a tough call between Sera James and Donna Whitehall. Sera's bottom was vividly red, but Donna's was covered with a series of choice weals. "Sergeant Milton?" asked Brutus.

The girl nodded sadly, regretting antagonizing the fierce history teacher and former military man.

"I thought I recognized his stripes," grunted Brutus. He stared longingly at Donna's butt for a few more seconds and then picked Sera. She was fresher and would react more. Donna would scarcely notice another caning on top of those weals. Well, perhaps not scarcely. Brutus had learned a lot about discipline in the last fifteen years.

Sera, eyes already filling with tears, gingerly took off her nightshirt and panties, folding them carefully and laying them on the bed. Brutus was already gone, thumping down the hall to the next room. Naked, she slipped out and headed for the basement. This part was always touchy--technically she was up after lights out, and being caught by a prefect would mean more of the slipper. Most prefects ignored Brutus' girls, but not always. If you caught one in a bad mood....

But Sera made it safely to the workroom. It was a large room, twenty by thirty feet, with supply shelves along all the sides and numerous wooden workbenches and tables in the open area. Seven or eight other girls were nervously waiting inside. They nodded sympathetically at her when she entered, but there was no talking. All the girls were naked, and Sera noticed several bottoms glistening with fresh cane marks.

Over the next few minutes several more girls joined the bunch, and finally Brutus arrived, hobbling through the door with a smirk on his face. He studied the girls, pleased with his choices. A splendid variety. One girl from each of the twelve dorm rooms was represented.

Brutus stomped over to the workbench above which hung a number of slender canes, paddles, and leather straps. "Who wants to go first?" he asked, rubbing his hands together.

None of the girls moved. Going first meant you got it over with and didn't have to wait half the night for your flogging, but it didn't make the punishment any less severe.

"All right, then. We'll go by birthdays. Anyone have a birthday this month?"

Alison Wortle went slightly pale. Several girls glanced at her expectantly. They'd had a party for her just last week. She had turned seventeen. She gulped and stepped forward. Her bottom was pale and unpunished. An excellent student, she rarely required discipline.

Brutus leered at her. "Excellent. I haven't seen you down here in months, dear Alison. Now which shall it be? The cane? The strap? Or do you want the paddle?"

Alison sighed and pointed at the cane. Brutus seemed pleased. "To the bench," he ordered. He did practice swings in the air as the girl stretched out lengthwise on a wooden bench. Her long arms grasped the far end and held tight. Her feet were on the floor on either side of the narrow bench, keeping her legs spread and her bottom vulnerable.

Sera nudged the girl near her. "How bad is the paddle?" she whispered.

The girl shrugged. "Try it and find out. I always take the six."

Sera grimaced. The choice was always a torment for her. She hated the cane, but it was only six. The strap was twelve and the paddle eighteen. It didn't seem like it would hurt as much as the cane--nothing seemed to hurt as much as the cane--but Sera wasn't sure. She'd gotten the strap once, and that hadn't been pleasant at all.

Meanwhile, Alison was ready for the cane. Brutus stood next to her, lifting the thin rod above his head. The stout cane was enormous--nearly four feet long--and made of bamboo. Sera jumped when it snapped down. It happened so fast she hadn't even seen it. Like magic there appeared a finger-wide stripe across Alison's bare cheeks.

Alison moaned and kicked her legs, wiggling her bottom. Her breasts pressed into the bench as she struggled. Again the cane flashed, the dreadful crack echoing throughout the room. This blow was very low, almost across her thighs. Sera didn't see how the girl could take it. Brutus wasn't holding back at all, caning the girl like the senior she was.

Two more stripes left Alison weeping. Her buttocks were marking beautifully, with four vivid lines running across her bum. For the last two, Brutus stood near the girl's head and brought the cane down the length of her body so it struck vertically across just one cheek, the tip plowing into the base of her ass and top of her thigh. Alison's moans were frightening to hear, but to her credit, she did not open her mouth. Crying out would have merited extra strokes.

"Anyone else born this month?" asked Brutus. He stood panting, holding the cane in both hands, bending it slightly. "Next month?"

Two girls had birthdays in the next month. Erica's was first, so she got to come forward. After seeing Alison's caning, she chose the strap. When her back was to Sera, she saw the girl's buttocks were covered with what appeared to be a dozen stripes. Vaguely Sera remembered hearing that someone had gotten a dozen from the Head for being caught off grounds--it must have been Erica. No wonder she didn't want the cane.

Perhaps the strap wasn't a much better choice, however. Brutus had the girl kneel on a table with her face pressed against the surface. This left her entire backside exposed for his leather strap.

"Don't get up," he warned, "or I'll give you extra."

The whipping that followed made Sera pick the paddle. There was no question. She couldn't take a caning like Alison, nor a leathering like Erica. Brutus literally painted the girl's thighs and buttocks with the wide belt, taking advantage of the increased number of strokes to catch every inch of exposed flesh. Erica was sobbing when it was over.

Monica was next, and she chose the cane. Her bottom was already a deep pink, most likely from the slipper. Brutus had her stand flat against the wall with her arms spread. He stood to her left and whipped her mercilessly. She cried out on the fourth stroke, so Brutus added two to her punishment, giving her eight memories.

One by one girls came forward and took their spanking. The cane and strap were chosen almost equally, but no one chose the paddle. Sera grew more and more nervous as her turn approached. There were only four girls left including her.

"Next!" cried Brutus, allowing a well-caned blond girl to release her ankles and rise.

Jane and Sera stepped forward together.

"Ah, so you both have birthdays? When's yours?" Brutus stared at Sera.

She sighed. "The fifth."

Jane swallowed. "The eleventh."

Brutus grinned. "All right, Sera, which shall it be?"

For a second Sera wondered if she was making the right choice. Perhaps no one chose the paddle because it was worse than anything else. Perhaps...

"The paddle," she said, her voice so weak it was barely audible.

"The paddle!" echoed Brutus. "Excellent choice. Haven't used it in a while. Since you're the first tonight, I'm going to give you a choice: 18 with the big one or 30 with the small one. The small one I'll give you across my lap, just like Mummy used to do, so it will be one-handed. The big one I'll swing two-handed, with quite a bit more force. Which shall it be?"

Sera gulped and her bottom trembled. More choices! Which was better? More lighter strokes or less harder strokes? Oh God, she hated these kind of decisions. Licking her dry lips Sera whispered, "The small one, I guess."

Brutus took down a small round paddle from the wall. It reminded Sera of an extra-large table tennis bat. He sat on a bench and ordered Sera across his lap. Blushing sheepishly, for it felt incredibly childish, Sera obeyed. Brutus tugged and pulled on her hips until she was in just the right position, with her bum right above his crotch. Sera couldn't believe how embarrassing this was. I hope it doesn't hurt much, she thought.

The first blow was loud and frightened her, but when the second smack landed, she realized it wasn't so bad. It stung, but the bat was thin and light. Unfortunately, the spanking didn't stop at two swats. Brutus walloped her again and again and by the time she'd received eight, Sera was beginning to feel the burn.

The paddling continued, whap! whap! whap!, and soon Sera had tears in her eyes. Her bottom was aching miserably, and a fresh salvo of blows made her suck in her breath and bit her lip not to scream.

How many was that? She couldn't remember. It seemed like more than enough, but Sera knew that it couldn't have been more than about twenty. She gritted her teeth as the paddle spanked her again, and then again. There was no pause, no letup. Just constant rising pain. Every wallop increased the burning. The spanks weren't as sharp as the cane, but there was no break, no chance to catch your breath and ready yourself for the next stroke.

Sera fidgeted, wiggling her bum in despair, praying this torment would soon be over. Suddenly an extra-hard blow caught the side of her right cheek sending spasms of stinging agony through her. She squealed in surprise.

"That will cost you extra," growled Brutus.

"No, please," begged Sera.

"Talking is also extra." And Brutus laid into her ass with a frenzy of hard blows that had Sera sobbing. She didn't care any more. She kicked and struggled and yelled and the paddle just whacked and whacked and hurt and hurt and she wept and wept.

Brutus must have given her an extra two dozen before he finally stopped. Sera lay sobbing over his lap, helpless as a newborn kitten. Her buttocks were scarlet and spotted with a number of blisters. A couple friends came forward and helped Sera to the side, where she stood awkwardly and watched as Jane took six strokes of the cane without a tear.

Perhaps I should have chosen the cane, she thought miserably. That little paddle is deceiving.

A tall redhead was caned next, followed by pretty Jennifer, who chose the strap as her bottom was already adorned with stripes. Perhaps, like Sera, she wondered at her choice, because she cried out twice and earned an extra four strokes.

Back under the safety of her covers, Sera prayed it would be a long time before Brutus picked her again. She knew it wouldn't be too long--there were only a dozen girls in the room. Still, some visited him more than once a week. If Sera was lucky, it'd be a whole month before she was downstairs again.

The End

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