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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.


(*****, M/F, Intense, cons spanking)

A man develops RSI from spanking too much. (Approximately 497 words. Originally published 2010-03.)

Ridiculous! I was as fit as a tiger, but the pain in my shoulder was practically crippling. Reluctantly I submitted to the brain-dulling forms, the waiting room, and the humiliation of a nurse ordering me to undress. I waited, half-naked, in the chilly room.

When the door opened it wasn't Dr. Kildow but a nurse: brunette, hot as fresh pancakes, late twenties, with a sinful body under that plain white coat.

"So what's the problem, Mr. Tesue?"

She pronounced my name perfectly, which was almost as surprising as the "Dr. Kildow" label just above her prominent left breast.

"Dr. Kildow's a man, gray hair, balding, gruff bedside manner--"

Her smile was precious. "My father. I took over for him three years ago after I graduated."

I was stunned. I'd never have come if I'd known I'd have to see a female doc. But the girl was so gorgeous I was a humble puppy, eager to obey. I stripped off my gown and showed her my shoulder.

"Every movement's agony," I muttered.

Her hands manipulated my arm gently. "You fall or injure it?"

"No, I just woke up this way."

There was a pause. "What do you do for a living, Mr. Tesue?"

"I'm a Disciplinarian."

"What's that?"

"I punish naughty women and young ladies." The doc's ocean-blue eyes were wide with shock and confusion. "I spank them," I explained bluntly.

"You're paid for that?" she gasped.

"Definitely. I'm in high demand. That's why I need this fixed."

"What, er, exactly, uh, do you do?" The doc's cheeks were a pretty pink. "I mean, what motion? Can you show me?"

I stared dumbly as she whipped off her white coat. Underneath she wore black slacks and a tight navy vee-necked sweater that showed off the curved body I'd been dreaming about. Her smooth bum was high and arched, presented perfectly as she bent over the narrow paper-covered table.

"Spank me with your left hand, so I can see the range of motion your job requires."

"You mean pretend?"

"Oh no, they must be real! I need to know _exactly_ how you work."

"Then you must be bare." I'm not one to pass up opportunities, so I hauled down her pants and white silk undies, ignoring her hissed protest. "Shhhh! I'm a professional, like you."

I've seen a lot of bottoms but doc's was easily in the top three: tight waist, round hips, pronounced crack, with twin juddering cheeks of delicious femaleness. I gave that gorgeous ass a steady series of increasingly serious wallops. When I stopped she was red-faced and panting, professional dignity gone.

"Definitely RSI," she groaned. "Repetitive Stress Injury. You must change your technique." She winced, hands rubbing behind furiously. "I can show you some alternate methods."

"New techniques require hours of practice."

"I would hope so!" she grinned naughtily and wrote her home address on the back of a prescription form. "See you at eight?"

"You're the doctor. Prescription accepted."

The End

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