SSC: Fate

Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

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I'm mostly proud of this story because I was able to get such a complicated plot down to a mere 500 words!!!


SSC: Fate

(*****, M/f, Severe, Youngster, schoolgirl discipline)

Set in the future, a young girl vainly attempts to manipulate her fate. A classic. (Approximately 527 words. Originally published 1997-07.)

"Fuck!" cried Elly loudly, slapping the device.

"What's up?" Howie whispered, for they were in the library.

The girl turned the Oracle screen. On it Elly was bent over a desk. Her naked bottom was adored with numerous red stripes.

"Crimey!" blurted Howie. "Looks like two dozen! When's that?"

Elly pointed to the dial settings. "Saturday. I wanted to see if I'd be going to the amusement park with everyone and shit! It looks like I'm in detention getting my ass whipped!"

Howie looked at his girlfriend sadly. "Do you know why? Maybe you could change the future."

"That never works," mumbled Elly. "Half the time it's your attempt at change that causes it to happen."

Still, the rest of that week Elly walked on eggshells. The image of her striped bottom filled her mind constantly.

By three o'clock Friday Elly was beginning to feel irrationally hopeful. She hadn't done anything to deserve detention. The Oracle had been wrong.

But her hope was dashed, for Mrs. Peabutt was waiting at her locker. (That's what everyone called her, uh, behind her back, so to speak.)

"Elly Davidson--to the headmaster's office."

In the office they played the library security tape. It showed Elly playing with the Oracle.

"Fuck!" screamed Elly loudly on the screen.

The Elly standing before the headmaster winced.

"Swearing is forbidden," he intoned dully. "Especially in the library. You will attend detention tomorrow."

With a resigned sigh, Elly went home cursing the stupid Oracle.

There were about thirty in detention. Elly sat and dutifully began to copy the dictionary. If she was careful, perhaps the predicted caning wouldn't occur. That was unlikely, however, as detention was nothing more than a thinly disguised day of whippings.

The paddlings began almost immediately, as two senior boys arrived late. Elly didn't watch the paddling, afraid she'd be caught smiling. She usually enjoyed watching boys get spanked. Instead she concentrated on her dictionary.

"Elly Davidson!" snapped the teacher. "Why aren't you watching these boys receive their proper reward? Can't you learn from their mistake?"

Of course there was no appropriate answer. Elly was bent over the teacher's desk, panties at half-mast, the paddle warming her hindquarters. The image of her striped bottom loomed brighter.

All day she nervously watched boys and girls go up for paddlings and canings, but she herself was only paddled twice more.

Could the Oracle be wrong? Not probable, since the manufacturer had a hundred million dollar prize for proof of error (ironically, they had used the device themselves to prove no one in the future claimed the prize, pointless if the thing made mistakes).

Dejected, she trembled as she handed in her copying, expecting Mr. James to declare it illegible and reach for the cane, but he sent her home with only two dozen paddle whacks.

In her room she desperately checked the Oracle log records.

"Fuck!!!" she screamed.

For her prediction she had mistakenly set the date for _next_ Saturday.

The End