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.
(***, M/f, Severe, paddling, whipping, caning)
Proof that routine punishments are never boring! (Approximately 1,178 words. Originally published 1997-06.)
Erica felt her stomach tighten as she rapped on the cellar door. There was a short pause and then the door opened. The familiar figure of Mr. Lynch, the school headmaster, loomed before her.
"Ah, it is you, Erica, sent to me once again. What is it this time?" The tall handsome man glared at the girl with a coldness that sent shivers down her back.
"Mrs. Cumchuck said I was whispering, sir," whispered Erica.
"Speak up, girl! If you are sent to me for talking in class you should at the very least speak clearly to me!"
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."
"Very well. Please come inside and shut the door behind you."
Erica entered. The cellar door was heavy and it took her a moment to maneuver it closed. It shut with a finality that frightened her. She turned and faced the man. She already knew what he was doing before she saw him, and she was right. He had opened a cupboard and was in the process of laying out several punishment implements onto his desk. There was the dreadful crock-handled cane, the heavy leather Scottish tawse, and the small but thick wooden paddle. Erica's hands went cold at the sight.
"All right, Erica. Step over to my desk. I'm certain you know the routine by now. This makes what, your tenth this month?"
"Twelveth, sir," said the girl, her voice quavering despite all her attempts at control.
"It seems you have not learned your lesson. I shall make this one exemplary."
"Now bend over the side of the chair, please. Keep those hips up. I want that bum properly arched for the paddle."
"Yes, sir." Erica bent over the left arm of the chair and gripped the other side with her hands. She felt the man lifting her petite schoolgirl skirt to expose her panties. She settled herself as best she could on the chair, arching her back and thrusting her buttocks outward for the punishment she knew would commence at any moment.
The paddle was loud and brutal, the stinging pain full and all-encompassing. In seconds Erica forgot her resolve to be still and obedient and began to wiggle and whimper. Mr. Lynch didn't hold back anything but gave the girl a thorough paddling. When he finished she stood shakily to her feet and wiped tears from her eyes.
"T-thank you for the s-s-spanking, sir."
"You took it well, my dear. Now please disrobe for tawse."
"I shall not repeat myself. I said I would make this punishment exemplary, and I shall. Remove your skirt immediately, or shall encourage you with the cane."
"Y-yes, sir." Erica slowly began to take off her skirt. It slid down her legs and gathered in a heap at her ankles, making her feel very naked and vulnerable. But what was to come was even worse.
"Panties, too. Hurry up!"
Erica didn't ague but slipped off her underwear, too, shuddering at the thought of the tawse striking her naked flesh. That leather stung like a horde of hornets.
When Erica was naked from the waist down, she bent over the back of the chair, actually lifting her feet off the ground she was so arched. Her bare legs and sore bottom were completely exposed for the sting of the lash. Mr. Lynch didn't hesitate, but proceeded to whip the girl soundly with the thick leather tawse. The end was split into several tails, and these spread themselves across a substantial area of Erica's rounded bottom. Several times the tails descended nastily into the cracks and crannies of Erica's ass, stinging her bared pussy between her legs and her petite pink arsehole. Erica howled and screamed in pain, and when Mr. Lynch began to flog the backs of her legs, Erica burst into uncontroled sobs.
"Oh, please, sir, that's enough! Please!"
"I do not think so, child. You have been most naughty. Now spread your legs a bit wider--I want to make certain I get the insides of your thighs."
Erica moaned loudly, but obeyed, sobbing as the headmaster gleefully walloped the tender insides of her thighs. She could not stop crying when he finally finished. "I'm surprised at you," he said. "You've been here so often I should think this would routine for you by now."
"Oh, no, sir. it's never routine."
"You aren't bored?"
"Absolutely not, sir!"
"Are you sure?" asked Mr. Lynch with a delicate twist of his lip. "Doesn't any of this become a little predictable?"
"I don't know why, sir, but the pain is never the same. It always seems like too much, even if I received more last week."
The man sighed. "Well, are you ready for your caning?"
"Oh, sir. Please. I haven't been that naughty, have I?"
"I'm sure you have," whispered the man with a wink. "Now strip everything off and grab your ankles."
With a deep sigh of self-pity, Erica wiped her teary face with her arm and slipped the dark blue blazer and white blouse off over her head. She was wearing no bra, though she obviously had need of one, and Mr. Lynch clicked his tongue in annoyance. He stood in front of her, bending the thin cane menacingly. Erica trembled as she watched him.
"I think a dozen should do it."
Erica gasped in horror but bent over fully and grabbed her ankles tightly. She prayed this would be over quickly, but she knew even if it was it would still feel like it lasted for hours. Such was the way of pain. Her arms were tense and her breathing shallow. Though she'd been in this position countless times, she could not push down the dread rising from her belly. She was anything but bored.
CRACK! came the cane, and for a single tantalizing second Erica was overwhelmed with sensations: a hot poker pressing into her ass... a dreadful gunshot echoing in her ears... cold shivers between her legs, awaking her body... hot blood rushing to her face and forehead, making her dizzy and confused. Then in a flash all she felt was blazing agony, pure pain. She howled and began to weep as her ass throbbed with deep, pulsing pinches.
Again the cane fell, and then again. Erica moaned and wiggled and wept. The cane did not stop but beat her soundly, thrashing her naked buttocks until she felt there could not possibly be any skin left to punish----her ass was one big welt.
Then it was over, and slowly Erica stood up. "Incredible, Harry, absolutely mind-fucking incredible!"
Her husband grinned at her and began to desperately undress. "I love it when you've been a naughty schoolgirl," he whispered, taking her in his arms from behind, his fingers finding her breasts and beginning the process of removing her blouse.
"The routine doesn't get old?" she giggled.
"Absolutely not!" he answered, shocked. "Not with you as the student, at any rate," he added, and was rewarded with her winning smile.
"Good," she said. "I'm not bored either!"