Why Jordan Stopped Smoking

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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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Why Jordan Stopped Smoking

(***, F/f, Intense, nc caning)

A girl remembers a childhood lesson. (Approximately 500 words. Originally published 2009-05.)

Okay, I guess I'm a weird guy, but I _like_ cuddling. Lying in bed with a lover, sighing with ecstasy, a girl will tell you anything. Anything.

Jordan had the best ass, full and round, with absurdly smooth skin. We'd lie in bed for hours and I'd just pet her. I loved the feel of her bottom.

One day, as I patted her butt and she purred happily, I jokingly asked, "Has this lovely bottom ever been spanked?"

To my surprise, Jordan giggled. "I'll say it's been spanked. That butt has taken more beating than a thousand rugs!"

I probed her for more, of course, and she willingly obliged. It seems she grew up overseas. Her father's business meant she spent time in India, Malaysia, and South Africa. She would attend exclusive, usually British-influenced private schools, and they were very strict and liberal with corporal punishment. She told me that nearly every week in her teen years she was being slippered or caned for something.

"I was wild. Nothing evil, just mischievous. Off with boys, smoking, etc."

"I didn't know you smoked," I said.

She gave me a weird look. "I don't. Do you want to hear why?"

I nodded.

"When I was sixteen, we lived in Cape Town. I attended a girls' school. The headmistress was Madame Forsberg, and she was fierce with the cane. One afternoon she caught me smoking in the toilets. This hadn't been the first time, but she was determined to make it the last.

"In her office she made me strip completely naked. Then she gave my bottom two dozen with her heavy leather strap. It was intense, but I'd had worse. I thought that was it, but no. She took me to a chair. It had on it one of those slanted podium stand things, and she'd covered it with a rough grain sandpaper. She made me sit on it. Since it was tilted, my weight made me want to slide off, and the sandpaper rubbed my blistered bottom raw.

"Then she opened a brand new package of cigarettes she'd found in my jacket pocket and made me smoke one. When I finished, she bent me over her desk for a stroke of the cane. Then it was back to the sandpaper for another cigarette. She made me smoke the entire pack. After each cigarette, I got a stroke of the cane.

"It was a miserable experience. I hated every minute of sitting on that sandpaper. Cigarettes grew disgusting. I wanted each to burn quickly, but of course I dreaded the cane.

"Finally, the entire pack was done. My butt was the reddest I'd ever seen it, and I'd seen it red a lot. I actually went to the nurse's station for ointment. And that was the last time I ever smoked."

"You were a naughty girl," I said, giving her butt a few gentle smacks.

"Oh yes," she giggled, and then I fucked her silly.

The End

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