SSC: Oops 08

Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

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SSC: Oops 08

(****, M/ff, Severe, nc caning)

Two girls dressed as men pay for their crime. (Approximately 489 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

"Do I look like a man?" asked the pretty girl, posing by the window. Like her compatriot, she was dressed in gray trousers and a blue tunic. Underneath, severals turns of cloth around her midsection concealed the substantial mounds of her feminine chest.

Miss Jenny smiled. "You'll pass. What about me?"

"I want to marry you myself," giggled Miss Claudia.

The two quickly slipped out the window and down the ivy ladder. Then it was off to the forbidden pub, to carouse with the rough men. Though tentative at first, after consuming several pints of dark ale, the girls joined in with abandon. Such was their enthusiasm that they cheered and mocked with the best when the fight broke out, but failed to run when the soldiers appeared.

In prison with the other revelers, two sobered girls moaned at their misfortune.

"What will happen to us?" Miss Claudia asked an old man in a nearby cell.

"First time, eh?" he cackled. "Don't worry -- for you drunks it's nothing but a few strokes of the rod on the morrow."

"The cane?" gasped Jenny. "Surely not!"

"Tis standard," murmured the man.

"But we're--"

Jenny's response was cut by Miss Claudia, who clamped a hand over the mouth of her friend.

"Idiot!" she hissed in Jenny's ear. "Do you want to lose your honor in this place? We daren't expose our sex amongst these brutes!"

Glancing at the sleeping, drunken forms of the rough men in their cell, Jenny conceded the wisdom of her friend. Secrecy was essential.

The guards roused them at daybreak. In the courtyard just outside the iron bars, a large man wielding a rattan rod over a yard long stood before a wooden frame. A man was released from the cell, guided to the frame, his trousers lowered, and he was beaten hard across the naked buttocks by the whipmaster.

The two girls shuddered in terror. "They can't do that," Miss Jenny hissed to her friend. "If they take down our trousers..."

"...we shall be discovered and our fathers notified," wept Miss Claudia.

"Father will have me whipped."

"Mine, too. What fools we are!"

Before each beating, the man was asked if he wanted six or twelve strokes. Every man chose six. Jenny couldn't comprehend it. "Why go to the trouble of asking?" she whispered to the old man. "Who would be daft enough to pick twelve?"

"With twelve you get to keep your trousers up," responded the old man.

A glimmer of hope shown in the girl's face. She looked at her friend. Claudia nodded. "It's the only way to preserve our modesty -- we must bear it."

Miss Claudia went first, asking for the twelve. With a cursory bum feel to make certain she wore no padding, the whipmaster obliged, delivering twelve of his cruelest cuts. Jenny followed suit, and the two were soon limping home, vowing off adventures forever.

The End