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.
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SSC: The Bad Dog 9
(*****, M/f, Intense, spanking)
A girl is spanked by her neighbor. (Approximately 496 words. Originally published 2000-08.)
As summer drew to a close, my mood soured. School was approaching. Mom and I visited with Mr. Schnidler, my guidance counselor, and discussed my classes. I was nervous and frightened and depressed. Even shopping for new school clothes did little to improve my mood.
What I wanted was for Mr. Vidinsky to take me over his knee at least one last time, but he seemed to have disappeared. He drove off early in the mornings and didn't return until evening.
I tried to get his attention, to visit him in the evening and drop not-so-subtle hints of my desires, but nothing I said made any change. The start of school was less than a week away and he seemed to not be aware of the other side of our relationship. He treated me cordially, almost formally, but no matter how much I teased, flirted, or hinted, he didn't take the bait.
The last few days on the clock ran out. Friday came and went, and Black Monday loomed. I dreaded the new school, the unfamiliar place, the foreign routines, and strange faces. I wished summer could have lasted forever.
Saturday Mom and I went shopping. I saw Mr. Vidinsky briefly, but he only waved a greeting.
On Sunday, my last day to sleep in, I woke up before dawn. I was strangely alert and rested. I went to my window and peered out into gloom. Suddenly, I saw movement. Someone -- or something -- was out there!
Fear turned to astonishment which become laughter, and then joy. It was Mr. Vidinsky. He was in his garden, actively destroying his roses. I watched in disbelief as he uprooted the plants.
My heart racing, I threw on some jeans and a shirt and ran outside. Sambo followed me. I ran to Mr. Vidinsky's and rang the bell.
"Yes? Molly! What on earth--"
I held Sambo's collar tightly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Vidinsky, but Sambo was out early this morning. He had dirt on his paws and I was worried he might have gotten into your garden."
The man's face bore shock, then a flash of guilt, before being replaced by its usual unflappable demeanor. Except this time I noticed the twinkle in his eyes.
"As a matter of fact, I just came from the garden," he said, his voice going stern. "Your dog dug up my roses again."
"He did? I was afraid of that. What a bad dog!"
"Yes," Mr. Vidinsky said slowly, his eyes fully meeting mine. "He is a very bad dog."
"He should be punished."
A pause. "Yes."
"Punished right now, while everyone is asleep."
Mr. Vidinsky raised an eyebrow, then nodded.
I grinned, let Sambo go, and followed the man inside. My heart was thumping as fast as Sambo's tail was wagging. I knew this would be the last time, at least for a while, perhaps ever. I would enjoy it more than any other.