SSC: Catch-22

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Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

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SSC: Catch-22

(*****, M/F, Severe, Arousal, mast, strapping)

A girl who keeps disobeying is severely punished. (Approximately 493 words. Originally published 1998-07.)

Katia carefully disrobed. She folded her clothes neatly and left them on a chair. Just being naked was arousing her. She sternly reminded herself that she was here for punishment, not pleasure.

He was waiting in the living room, the dreadful black leather strap dangling from his right hand. He pointed to the footstool before the davenport. Obediently Katia knelt. She placed her arms on the sofa cushions and arched her back, thrusting out the bare cheeks of her bottom. She shivered in anticipation, electricity tingling between her legs.

"Do you know why you are here?" boomed the stern voice.

"I'm here for punishment, sir."

"Why are you being punished?"

Katia's face flushed. "For... sinful thoughts."

"Be specific."

"I am being punished for having lustful, sexually explicit fantasies, and for masturbating to satisfy my passions."

"What is the punishment for such sins?"

"A thorough whipping," gasped the girl. She shivered, an electric charge igniting her sex. "Ten strokes for each incident."

"And how many times did you orgasm in the past week?"

"S-s-seven, sir."

"That's seventy strokes!"

Katia flinched. "Yes, sir."

"This is going to hurt."

Katia shivered at the cold tone. "I expect so, sir."

Without further ado, the leather began to rise and fall like a piston. Every crack of heavy leather sent waves of pain through Katia's hindquarters. Tears stung her eyes. Her flesh burned. She whined and wiggled in misery, gasping at each terrible blow.

But slowly, the heat across her haunches began to warm her insides. She noticed the tingling between her legs first. Then it became an itch, and soon an insatiable burn. She spread her legs, allowing the strap to reach the hypersensitive flesh between her cheeks. The pain was excruciating, but the momentary relief of sexual hunger was wonderful.

Soon even that wasn't enough, however. She arched her back higher, silently begging for even fiercer punishment. Her buttocks and thighs became scarlet, covered with thick, pulsing welts. The heat flooding her body was like a balm to her, spreading comforting pain throughout her loins.

Then that was no longer enough. Her desire was worse than the pain -- she wept helplessly. Her body was a living sex organ. She was conscious of nothing but her desire, her fantastic, insatiable hunger. Moisture from her sex trickled down the insides of her thighs. The faint tickling broke her: she bucked and writhed, crying out in relief as her mind lost itself in her body's passion.

Later, seemingly decades later, she heard the deep voice: "Did you come, little one?"

"Oh yes!" she wept. "Better than ever before!"

The man sighed. "Foolish child. You have sinned again. I will see you next Saturday to chastise you for your sin."

Katia swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yes, sir," she whispered. The thought of waiting for Saturday sent electricity through her body. "How am I going to restrain myself?" she thought, knowing already she'd fail.

The End

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