SSC: Transformation

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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: Transformation

(***, M/f, Intense, nc discipline)

A headmaster reminisces. (Approximately 344 words. Originally published 2006-01.)

Isn't transformation magical?

White becomes red. Pale becomes dark. Recalcitrant becomes cooperative, rebelliousness obedience.

Imagine arrogance transformed into humility. Is there anything sweeter?

Laziness becomes dedication, greed turns into generosity.

Amazing, isn't it? And it's all genuine. There's no room for fraud here.

How are these miracles possible?

All it takes is a little force, a little effort in the right place, a nudge in the correct direction, so to speak.

Take a room full of silly, giggling schoolgirls. A swish of a thin stick of rattan and suddenly the room's a morgue. Gone are the giggles, forgotten is the gossip. Suddenly everyone's frowning in concentration and schoolwork, actual schoolwork, is the focus.

Amazing!

Some transformation happen quickly. A pale white bottom becomes hot pink with just a few slaps. Several slams with a broad hardwood paddle can render it crimson. A handful of slashes with a slender cane can line a rump with scarlet. It's a beautiful thing.

Yet other transformations, like those of character, can take a long time.

I remember little Rebecca White. Twelve when she arrived, as snotty as a spoiled poodle, and ten times as bratty. I began her transformation almost immediately with a lesson over my knee. Later we migrated to hairbrush and paddle, and when she turned fourteen, I introduced her to the cane. By sixteen she was a different girl: respectful of authority, friendly with her peers, generosity defined. A true beauty, inside and out. Oh sure, she still needed her bottom transformed by the cane a few more times before she left at age eighteen, but her attitude on those occasions was one of acceptance and gratitude for my sacrifice, even when I insisted on some serious transformations of unblemished to heavily welted. I gave her a sound two dozen the day of her eighteenth birthday (for nothing more than her edification), and she thanked me for it sincerely, and kissed the rod still hot from its application!

It's remarkable what can be accomplished with a little effort and discipline.

The End

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