Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

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

A girl anticipates her punishment. (Approximately 501 words. Originally published 2009-05.)

Carrie hesitated. The door loomed in front of her. It should have been painted an ominous black or evil blood-red, but instead it was plain institutional white, like all the other doors in the building. The only distinguishing feature was the nameplate at eye-level which read, "Mr. Tangelo, Disciplinarian."

It was this feature that unnerved her. What awaited her on the other side of the door was not pleasant. The pink envelope in her sweaty hand contained the details of her fate, but she knew, from unfortunate past experience, that regardless of the specifics, what awaited her was extreme discomfort, humiliation, and shame.

Once inside, she would no longer have any control over what would happen to her. Inside, she'd be forced to undress, to expose her slender teenage body for discipline. She'd have to offer up her bare bottom for the cane, and she'd have to stoically suffer the intense lashes across her bare posterior until Mr. Tangelo had decided she'd been sufficiently punished. For several agonizing minutes, it would be hell on earth.

Thoughtfully, Carrie rubbed her rump through her pleated schoolgirl skirt in grim anticipation of the horror to come. "Just a moment longer," she breathed softly, staring at the door but not knocking. She took slow deep breaths, her breasts heaving, and tried to calm her pounding heart.

Oh she did not want that door to open! She could envision Mr. Tangelo, tall and grim in his dark suit, achingly long yellow rod in hand by his side, an odd, sneering smile welcoming her into his torture chamber. Just thinking of him turned Carrie's insides to jelly and for thousandth time, she wiped her sweaty palms off on her skirt. The pink punishment envelope was wet and crumpled, but the teenager was much more worried about her bottom.

The last time she'd been here she'd left at a hobble, the flames across her butt so intense she could hardly walk. The streaks of ruby and purple across her cheeks had taken days to fade. She cringed at the memory.

Carrie reached out, her knuckles nearing the door. Then she stopped, hesitating. Surely it wasn't yet time. Surely she could stall for a minute more!

She put down her trembling hand. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest. Oh, this was grim, grim indeed. She didn't know how she'd manage it. All she could see was that awful rod slicing up her ass. How long had she been here? A minute? Ten? She had no idea; she only knew she wasn't ready yet.

Then there was an icy wind to her right and her arm was gripped in a steel claw.

"Dawdling, are you! Let's see what Mr. Tangelo thinks of that!"

Bony fingers rapped on the door and the dismal figure of the disciplinarian loomed in the opening. Words were exchanged, evil leers of delight. Carrie's belly sunk as her punishment was doubled, then tripled. A hand welcomed her inside.

It was time.

The End