Hi everybody, I am an 18yr old girl, Jennifer from Cochin in kerala, but now doing higher secondary college in HIMACHAL PRADESH. I’ve a great pair of boobs and protruding buttocks is submitting my true experiences I had a few months back. I don’t know whether to call this an erotic story but I am sure you all will enjoy my story. Please forgive me for the slow pace of the story, spelling and grammar mistakes etc.
I lost my parents early and now live with my uncle whom I call father. All the names in the story except my name are changed for obvious reasons. This happened when I was in the X1 std.
I’ve been caned at college by the Headmaster for continually misbehaving and’ve been instructed by the Headmaster to write to him and let him know what happened when I got home. He asks for my father’s reaction to my college beating and what further action was taken back at home. Here is a copy of what I wrote…
Please Sir, I am sorry you had to see fit to cane me yesterday.
I am now following your instructions and having woken early I am writing to you to tell you of events after I left college yesterday. I am writing this from my bed Sir lying on my tummy as sitting on the chair would be uncomfortable at the moment! Dressed in my college uniform I arrived back at home and let myself in the front door to hear the sounds of my father and some of his business colleagues chatting in the front room. I peeked around the door and greeted them and then my father told me he had just taken a phone call from you Sir telling him what had happened this afternoon at college. I stood there in front of my father and felt ashamed as he lectured me. My eyes welled-up with tears as he scolded me. I also felt the eyes of his four business colleagues dressed in their pin-stripe suits all looking down at me as I stood in my college uniform and felt my skirt’s shortness. I just knew how they must have been wondering about how my caned bottom must have looked like as I felt their eyes focused on my short skirt. My father instructed me to go to my bedroom and change into my PE Shorts and then go to his Study and fetch the cane.
Oh my, Sir. This made me shivers as I had only experienced my father’s slipper before and only a couple of times recently he has taken a strap to me. So I knew nothing of him having a cane. I obeyed him quickly, curtseyed to all in the room then made my way up the stairs to my bedroom. I couldn’t stop thinking about my father mentioning “fetching a cane”. I wondered how long it had been there and how and when he had acquired it.
I quickly undressed in my bedroom and then squeezed into my tight white gym shorts and a T-shirt. I wore nothing else and composed myself to leave my bedroom and enter my father’s Study across the landing. It was a cold austere room and as I entered and shut the door behind me I didn’t have to search too far for my father’s new instrument of correction. For there before me on his nicely polished mahogany desk was this long thin college cane looking firm and menacing. I shivered as my eyes set upon it. I was frightened but also excited.
Now I have to tell you a confession Sir which my father doesn’t know about and I hope you will not be too hard on me for telling you this Sir. I picked up the cane and gently felt its strength and the smoothness of the rattan. I felt my nipples become more and more erect Sir as I fingered the cane. Here was I totally alone in my father’s Study stripped half naked with this powerful administer of corporal punishment in my hands. Please forgive me Sir for reporting that my sexual desires got the better of me and I ran the cane over the front of my shorts Sir. Rhythmically I slid the cane up and down in front of me pressing onto my tight shorts. This was not enough Sir. I intensified the stroking of my father’s new cane inside my shorts so I was actually riding the cane. My pussy was becoming soaking wet as I was driving myself mad with this harsh instrument. I couldn’t stop Sir until I had actually had an orgasm through riding the cane. I was now on the floor Sir exhausted but so satisfied nonetheless.
I guessed by now my father would be getting impatient downstairs, so quickly I cleaned up the cane and then took it back into my bedroom where I cleaned myself up and changed into another pair of gym shorts. These new gym shorts felt cold against my skin and even tighter than the other pair. They were shorter too and showed me off now as a very naughty girl. I adjusted myself, then picked up the cane and went back downstairs.
There was silence as I entered the room. My father’s friends looked stunned as they saw me enter in my small brief shorts, carrying a cane. My breasts felt firm and nipples erect as I caught sight of each of my fathers friends. I couldn’t help but notice each of them had an increasingly hard erection between their legs. I smiled and handed the cane to my father who told me to assume the position Jenny over his desk. I passed my fathers colleagues and went over to his desk where I draped myself across it. My buttocks were firm and bursting out of the tight white skimpy shorts.
The businessmen were silent as my father scolded me further, lecturing me about my behavior at college at my age. He then stood back, tapped the cane a few times over my shorts and I was clinging on to the other side of the desk pushing my bottom out as far as it would go craving for him to punish me quickly and get it over with. I felt him stroke the cane up and down my thighs as he explained to his friends how he believed naughty girls should be dealt with.
I knew they would all be close to exploding themselves by now as my father seemed to talk for ages on discipline and the proper correction of daughters still living at home and all they could see was my bottom gently bent over and thrust out hard ready for the taste of the cane. Then I felt the cane was no longer there. There was a silence which seemed like an eternity. Until down came the cane swishing through the air and landing fully over my shorts and bottom.
Twelve times my father lashed the cane down hard and relentlessly. I was careful to stay in position Sir as I knew that moving an inch would only earn me extra strokes. The first few strokes landed directly on the seat of my bottom over my shorts, and then there were a couple of strokes on my thighs and below the hem of my shorts. The final stroke was cut across the back of my legs as my father would guess I would need something to show off below my short skirt tomorrow at college. Sir, please don’t make me stand in assembly. I’d hate for the whole college to see evidence of my punishment Sir.
The caning eventually stopped. My father then tugged down my shorts to half mast. My legs were apart a little and then my father took the cane and rested it vertically within the crease of my punished buttocks. So there was I bent over with my caned bottom now bared on full display Sir with the cane itself placed between my bum cheeks.
I have to confess how this did excite me a little Sir and my father’s colleagues were obviously excited by it too. A couple of them had to leave the room Sir. The two remaining were invited by my father to feel the heat on my bottom. It was a nice relief Sir to feel the cold firm hands of a stranger on my caned bottom rubbing it better. I was then left lying over my father’s desk with his cane between my cheeks whilst my father concluded his business with his colleagues and then escorted them off the premises.
He then returned to the front room Sir and saw I had been fidgeting.
Tut! Tut!! Tut!!! Jennifer he sighed. How are we going to get you to behave girl? I was silent and he removed the cane from my cheeks and stood me up. He went over to the armchair and sat on its edge. Come along girl he instructed. I shuffled over to him with my shorts at half-mast and stood by his side as he gently guided me over his knee where he positioned me accordingly and placed his large firm hand onto my bare bottom.
He spanked me long and hard Sir. For ages his large firm hand methodically beat down on my poor caned bare bottom. Occasionally he would stop and rub for a while. Then he would lecture me again and continue the spanking until the whole area around the tops of my legs, my thighs and my bottom were a deep crimson red and stinging like mad.
I cried gently as I felt his parental hand beating disciplining me so good and so thorough Sir. I knew this was right and what I needed from him. What seemed like an hour later my father lifted me to my feet and took me between his legs and gave me a big hug? That felt good Sir, even at 16 years of age a bad girl needs a good hug Sir.
I was then sent to my bedroom where I slipped my shorts off, my bottom now throbbing with the pain. I looked in the mirror Sir and I wished I could wear my trousers to college today as my short skirt was sure to tell a tale or two. But I knew that would not be possible.
I laid across the pillows plumped up over the bed completely naked with a hot stinging spanked, caned and punished bottom facing up Sir. I let my hands relax in front of me onto my sex and gently I pleasured myself to sleep.
I await your further instruction Sir.
Mr. Roby, the Headmaster didn’t open his post until after morning assembly, so I was spared any public humiliation on that particular stage. He read my letter twice, his normally austere features softening into a smile and something stirring in his loins. He didn’t often have to cane high college but, when he did, he suspected that some of them displayed mixed emotions to his punishing strokes. But none had brazenly admitted to be being sexually stimulated like this. It was unprecedented. And with this letter, I was taunting him, challenging his authority. She deserved more punishment, he thought, a very special punishment. He sent a message via another teacher for me to report to his study after morning lessons.
At lunchtime, Mr. Roby approached his study and was pleased to see from afar a familiar female student figure. I was standing in the compliant pose expected of pupils awaiting an appointment with his cane, facing the wall with my hands on my head. My blond pony tail hung down the back and my short college skirt rode high to reveal a single purple weal across the backs of my smooth bare thighs, the results of the stroke deliberately placed there by my father. I looked round anxiously as I heard Mr. Roby’s footsteps, sounding distinctly different from those of the hordes of fellow pupils who trooped past on their way to the dinner hall. This was a busy corridor and the younger girls gasped and tittered at the strange sight of an X1 stder in a position more usually confined to the younger and more fractious elements in the college.
Half an hour later, he called me in. I stood before him, apparently genuinely contrite and embarrassed, looking down at the floor to avoid his stare. I was already beginning to think that perhaps this wasn’t so smart after all. He picked up my letter. When I asked you to send me a report on your father’s response to the caning I gave you yesterday, I didn’t expect any thing like this, girl! I am pleased that your father approved of my actions to the extent of adding to them but THIS??? The Headmaster waved the letter in front of my face, forcing me to look up. He saw tears welling in my pale blue eyes. This…? the Head hesitated. He had been wrestling mot of the morning to find a decent way to express his feelings? In truth, he was not really sure what his feelings were on this matter. This is a disgrace, He eventually continued. It is bad enough that you took pleasure in something that was supposed to teach you a painful lesson. But to write to me about it in such a lewd way is simply…simply disgusting! What would your father have to say if I showed him this letter??
My face went ashen. Oh no, please Sir!? I cried. ?Please don?T tell him about this? I knew my father would not understand ? He still thought of myself as a little girl, not a young woman of 18 with powerful and confusing urges. Well, I shall have to think about that,? Mr. Roby replied, seeing the anguish in my face. ?But I shall have to punish you most severely for this act of gross insubordination, you realise that, don?T you?? Yes, Sir? I said quietly. ?I will accept what ever punishment you think fit.?
?Bend over and touch your toes, girl!? I bit my lip. I was truly dreading any further chastisement on my ravaged bottom but I knew I had engineered this situation and now I had to take the consequences.. Just bending over hurt so much, making the swollen weals throb anew. He turned my college skirt back, although it was so short that he hardly needed to. The navy blue knickers had clearly been bought some years ago and now strained to contain my well-developed round cheeks. Several angry purple stripes showed below my knickers across the tops of my thighs. My goodness,? He mused out loud. ?I don?T suppose you have enjoyed sitting in your desk this morning? No, Sir. I?Ve already got one warning in Hindi for shuffling about.? Jenny replied. No more than you deserve, I suppose.? The Head responded, trying to disguise the sympathy he could not help feeling for my plight. He gently peeled down my knickers to inspect the full extent of the damage. There were the six tramlines from the caning he had given me yesterday afternoon, straight and evenly spaced as one might expect from an experienced professional. Then there was a mass of longer deeply ridged weals crossing in all directions My father clearly made up in enthusiasm for what he lacked in accuracy. My whole bottom, and the tops of thighs as well, were deep crimson crossed with dark purple lines. There was nowhere he could add any further chastising blows at present. Get up, Jennifer,? He said, after he had enjoyed the spectacle for long enough.
I complied, looking confused.
I don?T think it would be fair to punish you now on top of what you have already received in the past 24 hours. You will report to me in your gym kit every day at the start of the lunch break. I will inspect the marks on your bottom and I shall thrash you when I decide that you are ready to take some more. Do you understand??
I nodded silently and left the Headmaster?S study, trying to work out the implications of this unexpected development. . As long as the Head didn’t show that letter to my father…At break, My friends all rallied round, wanting to know what had happened. I had explained that the Head wasn?T satisfied with my response to the caning yesterday.
Friends responded by calling the Headmaster cruel, sadistic and worse.
Arriving home that evening, I went to her room and got out gym kit, which was going to get a lot of use over the next week. One pair of gym shorts, the newer ones, were in the wash but, anyway, I wanted old pair, the ones that were now really too short and too tight to wear for gym lessons. If my bum was going to be only daily display for the whole college to see, I might as well make sure it looked its best! I stripped off the college uniform and underwear and pulled on the tiny white shorts. They felt even tighter than yesterday as I eased them over tender backside.I studied herself in the full length mirror, naked apart from the gym shorts. . I ran My hands over the cheeks & felt the hot ridges through the cool cotton, thinking about the caning yesterday and the caning that was to come. The warm juices were tingling between my thighs. Quickly,Ieeled off my shorts, laid back on the bed and gently massaged myself to a shuddering climax.
The following lunchtime, Again I was in position outside the Headmaster?S study, facing the wall with hands on my head, looking and feeling like a little girl. If people had been surprised to see me there yesterday in college uniform, they were amazed to see me there again today, dressed in gym kit. My skimpy white shorts clung to the firm round buttocks like a second skin and they were so brief that the cane weals on the tops of my thighs, as well as the single one lower down, were on display. Of course, this was embarrassing for me, but I felt pride, too, in showing off the marks of my courage. The Head called me in and gently pulled down my shorts to inspect the marks. He knew these would take many days to fade but felt that this daily humiliating ritual would help reinforce his message. Right, Jennifer, come back at the same time tomorrow,? Was all he said. This pattern continued for the rest of the week. Each morning and evening, I would inspect myself in my bedroom mirror, seeing ridged bottom gradually turn smooth again, the redness fade and the bruising shrink and become tinged with yellow. Each day brought the prospect of the Headmasters caning closer and caused the mixture of anxiety and excitement to grow inside me. How much longer will he want to wait?? I wondered. And will he tell my Dad? And so it carried on into the following week, until Thursday, ten days after the Headmaster and my father had caned me. That lunchtime, as usual, after an agonising wait in the corridor, the Head peeled down my gym shorts but this time he pronounced my bottom fit to receive further chastisement. Jennifer, you will report to the gymnasium at 4.30 this evening, dressed as you are now, when I will punish you severely for writing such a lewd and depraved letter. Is that clear, girl??
Yes, Sir? I said softly. An icy chill coursed through my veins. Even though I had been preparing myself for this moment for over a week, it was still hard to take. There was no way I could concentrate on work during the afternoon and I was lucky not to get into more trouble as a consequence. By the last lesson of the day, I told friends I was unwell and went to sit in the cloakroom to brood on my fate. I tried to remember the precise details of the Headmaster?S last caning ? Six of the best on the knickers. That truly hurt; could this one really be worse? The memory added a warm glow to the knot of fear in my stomach. At 4 pm, the college buses took the other girls to their homes, where they would soon be enjoying tea and television. I walked uncertainly, to the changing rooms and the fate that awaited beyond. Slowly, I took off college uniform, gave my bottom one last reassuring rub and put on the gym kit. Since I wasn?T going to be exercising, I decided against wearing a bra beneath the tight white gym vest. At 4.28, I had left the changing room and entered the gymnasium. I was shocked and disappointed to see Miss Sheela, the Senior Gym Mistress, waiting for me. .I bet she?S going to enjoy this, the bitch,? I said to myself.
Come and stand here, girl? She commanded, pointing to a spot in front of a low vaulting horse which had been moved to the centre of the gym. I complied and saw, lying on the suede leather top of the horse, a yellow crook handled cane and a shiny brown leather strap. I could not stop myself studying the implements before me with morbid fascination. The cane was longer and thicker than my father?S, the one that had got me into this trouble in the first place. The strap also looked much more wicked than the one , father had used in the past, with its end split into two long tails. Time seemed to stand still. As always, the gym was cold and yet trickles of perspiration ran down inside my tee-shirt. At long last, Head appeared and strode purposefully across the floor, his gown billowing out behind him. He looked hard into my eyes for signs of arousal . He picked up the cane and handed it to the gym mistress. He picked up the tawse and fingered its flexible tails with reverence. After then, he spoke.
Well, Jennifer, you understand that I must punish you severely for writing me such an indecent letter ? A letter which challenges my authority as your Headmaster? My heart was racing now; nipples stood out hard through the tight tee-shirt, experiencing the same mixed emotions as on my first lunchtime visit to the Head?S study last week, and the day before in my father?S front room. Yes, Sir,? I said meekly. Your actions also showed a lack of respect to your father as well, didn’t they?? I suppose so, Sir,? I admitted, reluctantly. Head sead “Normally, I would have no hesitation in informing your father about this. However, in the circumstances, I am prepared to let the matter end here and now if you accept an additional punishment from me. Is that what you want??” I thought However much the Head?S punishments hurt, they could not be as bad as the embarrassment of having my father see that letter. Yes, Sir,? I replied. ?I will accept what ever punishments you think appropriate? Good. You will receive nine strokes with the tawse, followed by nine strokes of the senior cane on your bare bottom. Is that understood?? I nodded. ?Bend over the end of the horse with your feet far apart.?
I moved into position. Even though I was totally at Head’s mercy, I felt strangely calm, detached almost. He watched with some satisfaction as I bent over and spread the legs. My short gym vest rode up to reveal pale flesh above the waistband of the shorts, which stretched smooth and tight over my peach-like bottom.
He raised the tawse high above his shoulder and crashed it down hard on middle of the my up-turned bottom. The effects instantly coursed through my body and made me to buck involuntarily.
“Keep still, girl, or i’ll start again!” he said sternly.
It was as if I was woken from a dream by a bucket of cold water. This was real! It wasn’t happening to someone else! The tawse lashed down again on the same area. “God!”, I thought desperately. “How can it hurt that much?” And there are another six – or is it seven ? To go”
Mr. Roby switched sides, allowing the tawse to curl twice around my left cheek. Then, back on my left, he aimed the tawse across the lowest reaches of my bottom, which elicited a sharp intake of breath from me. He cupped his left hand gently to each cheek in turn, feeling the heat through the thin cotton shorts. Sadly, even this scant protection was little use for the next stroke, which he deliberately aimed diagonally, so the ends of the tails dug hard into the tender flesh at the very top of my right thigh, below the tiny shorts. I howled and clasped my hand to the injured spot.
“Take you hands away! If you do that again, i’ll have to ask Miss to hold your arms.”
I resumed my position and held tightly to the horse. The Headmaster inspected the reddening imprint below the hem of my shorts with some pride. It was low enough to be very painful but would not be visible. After all, he didn’t want to risk my father finding out about his daughter’s latest punishment. The Head repeated the pattern of the previous strokes from the other side; I sobbed involuntarily as the tawse lashed into my bare thigh.
“One more stoke of the tawse to go, Jennifer,” he announced.
This would be the hardest and most painful of all, as he stepped back slightly and slashed the strap down at an angle, allowing the ends of the tails to reach the insides of my widely spread bum cheeks. I cried out loudly, twisted and kicked my legs in a vain attempt to shake away the agonising pain between thelegs but gamely clung on to the horse. The Head told me to get up and, with some effort, I pushed myself off the gym horse and stood before him, gently massaging my ass. My cheeks were red, eyes tearful.
“You have taken the first part of your punishment very well, Jennifer, but now I must cane you hard, to ensure that you will always remember the consequences of your disgraceful behavior. Take off your shorts! And, since you seem to delight in showing off your body, you can remove your gym vest as well.”
I flushed with shame at this final reminder of My foolishness in front of my father’s colleagues. And anyway, it was my fascination for the cane that put me here and this was the moment for which I had been preparing for ten days…Slowly and carefully,I pulled down tight gym shorts, easing the waistband over the throbbing weals on the bottom. Then I peeled off my tee-shirt and stood before HM in only plimsolls and white ankle socks, doing my best to cover breasts with one arm and my vagina with the other.
“Bend over the end of the horse again with your feet only slightly apart.” Hm instructed. I was glad to be spared the humiliation of having to spread my legs.
“You will receive nine strokes, which you will count out loud. If you move or fail to count the stroke, you will receive it again. Is that clear, Jennifer?”
“Yes, Sir” came my soft reply.
Miss handed the cane to the Headmaster, who whistled it through the air a few times to loosen his arm. The sound made me flinch but, as soon I had relaxed again, the cane crashed down firmly, high up on the my defenceless rear. HM had aimed a little higher than usual to allow room for nine strokes instead of the usual six. I gasped loudly; this was my first experience of a bare bottom caning and it hurt a lot more than I had expected. Just in time, I remembered to count: “One, Sir”. I was slightly better prepared for the second, which landed just below the first.”Two, Sir”
The Headmaster’s deadly accurate strokes worked their way downwards; each one seemed to hurt more than the last, as they reached areas already sore and swollen from the tawse. I wriggled my bottom in an attempt to relieve the fire that seemed to be burning deep to my bones. The direct effect on my bottom was minimal but I was surprised to find that friction with the leather vaulting horse was making my nipples stand out firm and erect and creating a warmth in my pussy that distracted her mind a little from the hot throbbing ache in my bum. I must concentrate and not lose count of the strokes – this was the sixth one coming up, wasn’t it?
I held on tight and thrust out my bottom ready to receive it. The impact as the heavy cane bit deep into the under-curves of my cheeks forced me back against the horse. . HM had now reached his favourite spot – the crease where a girl’s bottom meets her thighs, where a girl feels the sting most at the time and goes on feeling the effects for longest afterwards when she walks or sits down. The last three strokes were directed cruelly in quick succession at this target. After each stroke, my body bucked and reared, I howled out loud but somehow, with supreme effort, managed to choke out the number of the stroke. After the last stroke, I thrust out her bottom again, as if I hadn’t realised the ordeal was ever.
After a long pause, he told me to get up. Headmaster gently helped to my feet. I stood unsteadily, clasping my flaming rear and not bothering to protect my modesty. My face was flushed , streaked with tears.
“Well done, Jennifer, you have taken your punishment very bravely,” he said softly. “I hope I never have to cane you again like that. You may go now.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I said. With great difficulty, managed to bend enough to pick up my shorts and vest from the gymnasium floor and then walked stiffly towards the door. Miss, who had remained a close and silent observer of the proceedings until now, called after me:
“I think you should have a shower to help you cool down, Jennifer.”
In the changing rooms, my agony increased; it felt as if the swollen stripes across my bum would split open as I bent to remove my plimsolls and socks. However, the shower soon washed the salty tears from my face and the spray soothed my ravaged bottom, making it easier for me to massage the lumpy weals. The jets felt good on the hardening nipples too and soon I was gyrating under the stream of warm water, legs wide apart, feeling the fire in my bottom spreading to pussy and fingering myself to a gasping, shattering orgasm.
Slowly, I changed back into college uniform. With small painful steps I walked to the bus stop. It was gone 5 o’clock now and people were coming home from work. I was relieved that the bus was full so I could stand up without it looking odd. The prospect was making her feel wet and warm inside again already…I reached home.
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