Jump Street

Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

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Jump Street

(***, M/Fff, Intense, Teen school discipline)

A young cop gets more than she bargained for when she goes undercover at a private school. (Approximately 2,787 words. Originally published 1996-05.)

*** Author's Note ***

This story has nothing to do with the TV series "21 Jump Street" other than the title.

The Flogmaster

Brenda stared at the man in astonishment. He was reaching for the paddle! It couldn't be! Her stomach twisted in knots and she resolved herself to be brave. After all, she had to set an example for the whole plan would come undone.

Behind her Bridget and Darcy wiggled nervously, their faces pale. Brenda grinned at them impudently to show she wasn't afraid and she faced Principal Skinner with a smirk on her face. He glared at her.

"I think Brenda might as well go first," he said sternly, "seeing how eager she seems to prove her toughness." He motioned her forward and helped her bend over with her hands on the desk and thrust her bottom out behind her. The principal carefully lifted her skirt and pinned it around her waist and then ordered her to pull down her panties.

"But sir--" began Brenda.

"Silence. Do as you are told!" The man stood tall and imposing, his former military training obvious. The knuckles of his hand were white he gripped the paddle so tightly. With a trembling sigh Brenda decided to obey. If the man only knew what he was about to do!

She carefully slipped her underwear down to her ankles and bend back forward. The paddling was quick and brutal, without any trace of humor. The paddle was made of heavy oak and each blow rocked Brenda's entire body forward. She shuddered as the pain began to reach it's peak. Her jaws were clenched, her hands steel grips, her eyes closed and head thrown back.

Brenda's proud bottom was a brilliant shade of scarlet, a hot, pulsing pink that terrified the two girls watching and waiting their turn. Again and again the paddle slammed into the girl until finally she lost it and began to sob. Her shoulders bent forward and she wept without shame or hesitation.

"Next," Mr. Skinner said calmly, motioning for Bridget. The pale-faced girl was rather pudgy. Her round bottom made a large target the paddle couldn't spank hard enough. Again and again the principal spanked her, until she was sobbing uncontrollably, howling and doing a little dance with her naked bottom.

Darcy was last but not least. A teary-eyed Brenda watched over her shoulder from her position facing the wall as Darcy took down her underpants to expose firm, shapely buttocks. The paddle began its duty again, punishing the smooth flesh until it gleamed like a red-hot ember in a dying fire. Darcy held out as long as she could but then she too began to cry, weeping as though her favorite puppy had been run over.

All three girls stood facing the wall then, red and bruised bottoms on display, as the principal studied them. "Now which of you was the leader in this little expedition?" he demanded fiercely. Bridget began to cry again, terrified that the punishment wasn't over.

Brenda saw her opportunity. "I hope Captain Jakeway realizes the sacrifice I am making," she thought with a curse at her situation. With a deep breath she turned around and face the tall man, her hands on her head.

"It was me, sir," she said simply. She ignored the slight gasp of astonished surprise from Darcy, the real leader. "It was all my idea."

Principal Skinner nodded. "All right. Darcy, Bridget, you two may go. I will deal with Brenda in private." The two girls didn't wait for a second chance to escape--they fled like startled birds, Darcy glancing back at Brenda with a look that told her that her plan had succeeded--she had earned Darcy's trust for life.

But there was still the matter of payment. Brenda faced the principal and waited, her heart dreading the news.

"Brenda, what I am going to do with you? This is your second week in school and I've already had to paddle you twice! This time, I'm afraid, a paddling will not suffice." He stood and walked to the cupboard in the far corner and took out a thin rod of about a yard in length. It bent easily in his hands and he swished it through the air a few times, sampling its flexibility.

"This is a cane, Brenda. It has been over a year since I have been required to use it. Most of our students find the paddle more than sufficient to teach them to mend their ways. You, however, persist in playing the rebel. I think a dose of the cane shall teach you some manners." He swished it once more. "Assume the position!"

Brenda could hardly breath as she bent over. She'd never felt the cane before but the speed at which that rod swished through the air terrified her. It had to hurt.


It was all Brenda could do not to scream. The red-hot line of fire bored into her ass and she wiggled her butt frantically.

"Be still!" scolded the principal, and Brenda tried to calm herself down. Tears flooded to her eyes. She couldn't believe that high school students were subjected to this much pain on a regular basis. It was inhuman.

Swish-crack! Swish-crack! Swish-crack!

The agony was too much. Brenda rose and grasped her ass in her hands and hopped around the room, her ankles tangled in her white panties. "Arrrghgh," she moaned miserably, weeping copiously and begging for mercy. She wanted to shout at the principal and tell him she wasn't a little girl at all but a twenty-year-old policewoman, rebellion part of her undercover mission to gain the trust of the students and ferret out the illegal drug source, but of course she couldn't do that: Captain Jakeway suspected the principal might be involved--certainly someone high up in the administration was, considering how the drugs were distributed. And so Brenda bit her lip and squealed quietly to herself and let her salty tears comfort her.

"Get back in position! You just earned yourself an extra one," growled Principal Skinner in annoyance and Brenda just nodded. She no longer cared. She just wanted the punishment over.

Swish-crack! Swish-crack! went the cane, and Brenda wept and moaned in misery. Swish-crack! Swish-crack!

"Ahhhh!" she howled. "Pleeeaaasee..."


"That was your extra one," said a thunderous voice from a million miles above and Brenda just sobbed. Lines of pain criss-crossed her rump and she could not stop weeping. She did not protest when Principal Skinner made her stand facing the wall again. She saw with surprise her panties were no longer around her ankles and dimly wondered where they were but she didn't really care.

* * * * *

The month passed like a dream. Darcy and Brenda became very close, and frequently met in Skinner's office, bending over for corporal discipline. After that first time Brenda wasn't nearly so frightened of it, and actually found the process to be quite exciting.

With such frequent visits to the principal's office she figured the spankings would soon become routine, but each session was unique. It wasn't the pain--the pain was always similar: intense, biting, and eventually overwhelming. But it was the way the process made her feel inside.

True, she feared it. That was part of the excitement. There was the unknown part of it--which instrument would he use? The paddle? The cane? The leather strap? How many strokes would she receive?

But Brenda was most astonished at how good it felt to release and simply cry, to sob like a baby. As the month went on she began to look forward to that feeling, to that moment when she could relax and be herself, to weep and let all her emotions drain from her.

She would never forget her sixth spanking. It came late in the month, and it was the first time she had specifically done something for no other purpose than to get spanked. She didn't exactly know why she threw the rock through the window--but she did it right in plain view of everyone, including several teachers, and she felt an immense satisfaction as she was marched toward Skinner's office.

She was afraid, very afraid, for after the last time Skinner had told her that he was growing tired of her antics and would be most severe with her if she was sent to him again, but a part of her felt elated. The second the rock had left her hand she had known her fate was sealed and there was nothing she could do to prevent her punishment. That feeling of helplessness, of the inevitable, filled her body with quivering and dread, her stomach in tiny knots as she waited to see Mr. Skinner.

He did not make her wait long but quickly ushered her into his office. He shook his head sadly when he saw her. "What I am going to do with you?" he moaned. He stared at her for a long time before nodding to himself. "Take off your jeans."

Brenda obeyed, her belly trembling. Standing only in skimpy panties and her short T-shirt Brenda felt exposed and vulnerable. This seemed to wake up her sex. She could feel a stirring between her legs, her sex growing damp with arousal. She did not say anything as the principal began to set out instruments of punishment on the table in front of her. She quailed at the sight of the thick black paddle, the heavy strip of leather she had felt last time, and the dreadful whippy cane which he had used on her twice, but something in her rebelled and she scoffed the weapons she was so familiar with.

"You cannot scare me," she whispered to herself. But she wondered if it were true.

Skinner picked up the cane. Brenda got in position without being told, bending over and grabbing her ankles. She was glad he was starting with the cane. The cane was the worst--anything that came afterward would be almost pleasant.

Swish-CRACK! Swish-CRACK! Swish-CRACK!

The first few blows took Brenda's breath away. Her thin cotton panties did nothing to deflect the sting. Lines of agony swelled across her ass. Tears sprang to her eyes and Brenda trembled.

Swish-CRACK! Swish-CRACK! Swish-CRACK!

Brenda was biting her lip to keep from screaming after the second set. She could feel bars of pain running down her backside--Skinner had spread the blows perfectly.

But Skinner was putting the cane down--after just six strokes! Brenda felt a delicious relief until she saw him approaching with the paddle. Over the cane welts this would not be easy.

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! The paddle walloped her hard, again and again. Brenda grunted and struggled to hold herself in position. Tears ran down her cheeks and tension filled her body. WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!

"Oooooch!" cried Brenda, gasping desperately. "Please, sir!"


Sobs began to jerk through Brenda's chest and she felt like screaming. Frantically she choked back the tears and grunted and moaned and shook her head violently. She was still dancing when Skinner put down the paddle.

"Drop your shorts."

The command sent ice down Brenda's back. She did not want to obey--it was the last thing in the world she wanted to do--yet she found herself reaching down and slipping off her thin panties. Though intellectually she knew they meant nothing--no protection at all--psychologically she now felt helpless and vulnerable.

Skinner took up the strap now. Splat! Splat! Splat! Splat! It was a long, thorough whipping, deep and cleansing, and it lasted for hours. It was slow but steady, each stroke deliberate and precisely placed. Brenda silently counted the strokes and when Skinner reached thirty he stopped.

Brenda started to rise but was cut off.

"Stay put, young lady. We are not finished yet. Not by a long shot."

Terror seized Brenda's soul and she bent back over. She saw the principal was lifting the cane again. She could not believe it. Was he serious?

Swish-CRACK! Apparently he was. Swish-CRACK! Definitely serious. Swish-CRACK! Swish-CRACK! Swish-CRACK! Swish-CRACK! Most serious. Swish-CRACK! Swish-CRACK! Swish-CRACK! Swish-CRACK!

If Brenda had thought she was crying before, she now learned what it felt like to really cry. The sizzling strokes of the cane hurt so bad she could not believe she was enduring such pain--in fact she refused to belief it, telling herself this couldn't be happening. It did not feel very real anyway; the whole world felt vague and distant.

When Skinner exchanged the cane for the strap it did not surprise Brenda in the least. She almost welcomed it. Its bite was a welcome change from the agony of the cane, and though Skinner brought it down hard and fast and dealt it freely across her tender thighs, she did not resent its touch. The pain was a different kind of pain, a fast slapping that left Brenda breathless but deep down something she felt she needed. It overwhelmed and flooded through her, and when Skinner began to paddle her, the hard wood slamming into her again and again, each blow jarring her entire body, Brenda felt an incredible loss of self that amazed her. She imagined that it was she doing the whipping, picturing her own naked buttocks blistered and red, every stroke delivered with every ounce of strength she could muster.

How long the paddling lasted she could never tell. It seemed to last for weeks, and when Skinner finally told her to get up and stand in the corner she did not understand his words though she saw his lips moving. She was lost, her soul consumed by uncontrollable emotions and sensations she could not name.

And late that night, at home, in her apartment, as she lay on her bed and fucked herself wildly, still reeling from the astonishing punishment of that afternoon, she could think of nothing more than how good she felt inside, how her body bubbled over with emotions and she could not stop weeping and giggling and sighing deeply.

Skinner had paddled her twice since then, minor spankings for minor offenses, but Brenda could do nothing to rid her mind of her intense feelings during her punishments. Every night she thought of the next day, of what would happen, of what could happen, and the possibility of another spanking filled her with fear and lust--she could scarcely wait to discover her fate.

It was during one of these fantasy imaginings that Captain Jakeway called. "Oh, hello, sir," she replied when she realized her boss was calling. "No, everything's going well."

"Then you've got some information for me? You know who the connection is?" The Captain's voice was filled with eager hope.

"No," said Brenda slowly, her heart pounding at her naughtiness. "I'm still working on it. It's a slow case--these kids do not trust anyone easily."

"You've had over a month!"

"Yes, sir. But this is a tough one. I may need to be here for a while longer. I'm making good progress. The kids are beginning to trust me but there is a ways to go."

"How much more time do you need?"

Brenda tried to sound casual. "Another month or two."


"Sir, this is a big one. I'm pretty sure the principal is involved. I have to be very careful. If I move too fast it will ruin everything."

The Captain sighed deeply. "You're right. We need this case--don't blow it. Take as much time as you need. I'll back you up to the Commissioner."

"Thank you, sir."

There was a pause and a clearing of throat. "Er, I hear you've been getting into frequent trouble over there."

"Yes, sir. I must gain the trust of those involved."

"Right. But, uh, in this case the principal doesn't know, I mean, he thinks you're just a student. The, er, consequences aren't too... awkward?"

"Uh, no, sir. I'm doing my job."

"And very well. You will receive a commendation for this, Sergeant!"

"Thank you, sir."

As Brenda put down the telephone a shiver went through her body and her bottom gave a little surge. "Oooh, I am so naughty!" she exclaimed out loud. "I really _do_ deserve a spanking. I will have to think of something evil to do tomorrow."

She sighed and shook her head in disbelief. "Lying to the Captain about my progress is a major No-No," she whispered. "I shall indeed be soundly punished--at least for the next couple months!"

After that, who knew? Perhaps this assignment could last a very, very long time.

The End