Wicked Wednesday: Moral support

Sir’s cock was inside my mouth, but he wasn’t moving any more. His hands released my hair and stroked my head gently. At last he said, “Good girl, Maddie.”

I moved my lips along his shaft, and kissed the head, all velvet even when it was hard. He said, “Good girl,” again, so I was doing the right thing. “Suck me clean, girl.” I slid my tongue around his cock, to show I’d been reading, but mostly I used my lips. Eventually I nodded, mouth still on his cock, which wasn’t quite as hard as it had been.

He pulled out at last. He put his cock back into his underpants and zipped up his fly. “All right, little Maddie. You’ve been a very naughty, manipulative little brat, haven’t you?”

I should have been terrified, but he was smiling. I hung my head, pretending to be ashamed, and said, “Yes, Sir, I’ve been a very naughty and manipulative little brat. I bet I deserve… anything, Sir.”

“Ha. Well, I bet you deserve everything. But there’s plenty of time for that. Now, you heard me tell Lucy she’s going to get her first caning in this office at four o’clock.”

“Yes, Sir.” I was still on my knees.

“And you’re going to be here too. And I’ll either cane you both side by side, alternating strokes, or we’ll have it that you hold her down with her head between your thighs while I cane her, and then she holds you down. Lucy seemed to quite enjoy that. So did you, of course. Which would you prefer?”

“I don’t know, Sir. I suppose side by side. We could hold hands.”

He gave me the look that said, Maybe.

He wasn’t asking me what to do; he’d never do that. He was just getting my preference, for information. “Well, we’ll see. And after I’ve caned both of you, I’m going to take you home. To fuck you.”

“Oh yes, Sir.”

“You two seem to have become friends. I’m not going to fuck Lucy. Not tonight, anyway. Tonight is yours.”

“Yes, Sir. But I might like to have Lucy with me. She could watch me getting fucked?”

“Hmm. I don’t know. I suppose she could fetch things for us. Help out, do as she’s told, give you moral support. And yes, if she wanted she could be there when I fucked you. If that’s what you want. She’d have to want that too.”

I thought. In one way I wanted him all to myself. Especially tonight. But I was going to have exclusive use of his cock tonight, and that was the important thing. “This sounds weird, Sir, even to me. But yes, I’d like her to be with us.”

“All right. Then sound her out, without giving her too much information. Just to sat you’re getting special lessons, tonight. If she sounds positive about that, then you can see if she’s agreeable. But if you both want then she can come too. Except she won’t come. Well, not by my doing, anyway.”

“Does this mean, Sir, I can watch when you fuck her? Later?” I took it for granted that he would, not tonight but soon. It felt like forming a family, in a way. I felt that I was being warm and generous.

Though I wanted to hear Lucy’s orgasm cry. I really desired that.

I’d never felt anything for a girl before, but there was something about Lucy. I wanted to worship her body. And I wanted to cane her till she screamed, and to force her to lick my cunt while the tears ran down her face. It felt so strange wanting that. And it felt good knowing that it was now a real possibility.

Sir watched me, then nodded. He took a handful of my hair and pulled me to my feet. “Time you went to class, Maddie. I’ll give you a note saying you’re late because you’ve been caned. But…” He held out his hands, and I rushed forward, pressing my body against his. We cuddled, holding each other so tight. I kissed him, though my mouth still tasted of his come, to me, but he didn’t seem to mind.

At last he smacked my bottom. “Put your clothes on now, girl. And go to class. You’ll talk to Lucy at lunch. And you’ll see me after school. Now: Go!”

 

Maddie, consent, and throat-fucking

In the last episode of the Maddie saga the Wicked Headmaster character throat-fucked Maddie.

Oddly, that’s not a thing of mine, really. I do it if a submissive has told to me that that’s a turn-on for her. I don’t like to have to think of my cock as a choke hazard. 

Drop this, and it won’t break. Fact!

When I do want to deliver my best hard, fast and ruthless fuck, I prefer to be doing penis-in-vagina sex, because cunts are tough and evolved to take some fairly rough treatment. Much more so than the throat or the anus. I love having my cock sucked, and I’m charmed when a woman wants to show me clever things she can do. So I prefer having my cock sucked where my partner has some freedom of action. I also love anal sex, but there’s a definite limit to how rough you can be. 

So I didn’t want to write some throat-fucking erotica because that’s one of my key turn-ons. It came out of the characters. The Headmaster character was extremely turned on and wanted to come, quickly. That’s the reason that Maddie’s aware of, and she liked that sense of being used by him for his pleasure. 

I think that he also had a sense that Maddie would like that sensation of being helplessly taken. That’s already part of the vibe between them, so he stepped outside real-world bdsm rules but not the feelings and desires both characters have.

There’s a sense of care there, even when he’s apparently using her as a masturbation device. The way he pulls out after she gags and gives her time to catch her breath is a hint towards that. Though he doesn’t stop till a little bit after she gags, so she never has that unwelcome feeling that she’s in control.

So in their universe (which is absolutely not ours) he’s doing the right thing. There’s a kind of unspoken understanding between him and Maddie, and he keeps his end of the bargain.

I have a fairly 3-D sense of who Maddie is. She’s being very sexual and sexually driven, but she feels like a real person, to me. Partly because she’s based on real people, one in particular, who told me about acquiring an older Master when she was about Maddie’s age. (He wasn’t her Headmaster, though. No laws were broken, even in our world.) 

The headmaster at home, alone. relaxing In casual dress. Don’t panic!

The person who’s closer to a fantasy figure, I think, is her Headmaster, who has no doubts, is always sexy, and miraculously always knows just how cruel to be, in order to be kind.

Obviously, relying on “the vibe between us” wouldn’t be enough of a precaution, or enough consent, in the real world. I don’t think, in the real world, you get any points for introducing some new and challenging bdsm practice, and yelling, “Surprise!”

But fiction is a different thing. Characters can act on extreme emotional needs (as well as sexual needs) and we can enjoy their stories.

But we’re in our universe, which has all sorts of potential consequences, and they’re in their universe, which has fewer.

So long as we can tell their world from ours (and don’t do things like believing the Transformers movies are documentaries), I’m prepared, as Maddie’s narrator, to give them their heads and let them go where they like.

They just worry me sometimes, that’s all.

 

BTW: This post started as a response to a comment by Indigo Bird, here. Thanks for your comment! Indigo’s excellent blog on Art, Sexuality and Death, in later life, is here.

Maddie, consent and roller coasters

In the last episode of Maddie’s story, she expects and is keen to give a blow-job, and finds herself throat-fucked hard instead.

I had my doubts about writing it that way, because our Headmaster character hadn’t given warning, let alone asked for consent: “Now, girl, are you up for a nice hard throat-fucking?”

And leaving the action waiting while she considers her right to say, “No way, buster! I’m a fictional girl and I absolutely do not do that sort of thing.” Or, “Yes, please!”

But I decided not to include discussion between them on those lines because:

(1) it’s erotica. It’s meant to be sexy, and not necessarily to provide sensible, followable role models; 

(2) it’s understood by both of them that Maddie wants to learn and experience bdsm things, and in that sense she’s already shown her enthusiastic consent to anything short of damage/harm he does; and

(3) both characters, as well as most readers, would find it hotter with the consent conversation left out. 

 

The story itself is utterly implausible, in the sense that it couldn’t happen. No teacher could do that, even to willing age-of-consent girls, without getting caught. He’d be in court and in the front pages of newspapers in no time, and then he’d be in prison. Also, the only part of the world I know of where girls of 18 are subject to corporal punishment, which can be delivered by a male, is Texas.

And probably Alabama, come to think of it, though I’m not going to look it up in case I see a photo of Roy Moore. He brings me out in technicolour yawns, that hagfish. (Look them up.) Not even the Islamic states are as fucked up as some States in the good old US of A, y’all. 

Anyway, the way I see it is that the story takes place in a sort of alternate universe, one more ruled by sexual desire than ours is. Think of it as science fiction. 

 

That said, I think Maddie is perfectly psychologically plausible in our universe. She’s based on women I know, and things they’ve told me about their early bdsm experience. And shown me. (Those experiences didn’t involve headmasters, I should say.)

Maddie is excited by her submissive experiences because they’re coming at her like the loop the loops and hairpin turns of a roller coaster.

She hasn’t consented to each individual turn and loop, but she consented to getting on the roller coaster (she bought a ticket, even), and she’s on for the ride, letting it go where it wants: wheeeee!

Maddie’s a person, though she’s just a fictional one, and she is making choices.

Wicked Wednesday: The joy of being used

Sir pushed his cock into my mouth and put his hands on the back of my head, grabbing a handful of my hair in each hand so I couldn’t move my head back. I’d been reading up on techniques for driving a man crazy while I’m sucking his cock, but Sir wasn’t interested in me being clever.

His cock pushed into my mouth and into my throat, iron and insistent. He held me still while his hips pumped, driving into my mouth, into my throat. I’d read about this: he was fucking my throat, hard, for his own pleasure.

I felt utterly helpless, used, my mouth battered. It seemed to go well with the burning cane stripes across my bottom. I was still naked. He could see my stripes when he pulled me forward. The thought that I didn’t matter except to give him pleasure was so hot.

I gagged sometimes, when he went as deep as he could, cock down into my throat, but I couldn’t feel anything but the hotness of what he was doing to me.

I wasn’t doing anything: I was being done to, being fucked in the mouth. I liked that feeling. It said that I was his and it seemed so right.

It was only later that I realised that when I gagged he’d carry on pumping his cock into me, like a piston, for a few more strokes while I gasped for air.

But then he’d take his cock out a little further to let me catch my breath, and though he’d push back into my throat as deeply as ever, he’d be slower for one or two strokes before going back to his usual speed.

At last he smacked my face, once, twice, hard enough to echo in the room, and I felt his stomach muscles harden. Then his cock moved in me faster than I’d thought possible, and with one more smack – I was sure my right cheek must be as red as my bottom, or Lucy’s – he spurted a great gush of his come into me.

I swallowed as fast as I could because I already knew that’s what good girls do. He growled like an animal, and I was exhilarated by how happy and content with me he sounded.

His cock was still hard in my mouth, but no longer moving. His hands released my hair and stroked my head gently.

His cock felt so heavy in my mouth now he’d relaxed a bit. So fat, and happy. At last he whispered, “Good girl, Maddie. My good girl.”

 

Wicked Wednesday: Will Sir cane us together?

Sir looked at me, dancing about clutching my arse. He looked concerned for a second, Then he smiled, though that was gone before Lucy saw it. He understood. And I was sure he wanted Lucy to undress for him so he could cane her. 

I think both of us hoped he’d cane us together

I don’t understand why I wasn’t jealous of Lucy. But what she had from him wouldn’t take anything from me. They’d both have a wonderful time, and I liked both of them – maybe I loved Sir a little, or a lot – and I wanted them both to be happy.

Somehow I was sure that I’d still be Sir’s Number One. And maybe he’d let me play with Lucy too, while he was punishing her. Or he could cane both of us at once: all of that was up to him.

“Maddie girl, stop making an exhibition of yourself.” He sounded furious, but I wasn’t worried at all. I knew he was happy with me. “Be quiet, girl. Go to the corner, and put your nose to the wall. Kneel down, and stay there. And put your hands on your head!”

I said, “I’m so sorry, Sir!” He’d know I was lying about that, but he’d keep my secret. Then I added, “Yes, Sir,” and dropped to my knees in the corner. God, my bottom was burning.

There was silence. Sir and Lucy would be staring at each other. “All right, Lucy. I asked you to hold Maddie down. How do you think you did?”

She had to sniff and clear her throat before she could answer. “I – Uh. I failed, Sir. I’m sorry.”

Another pause. They’d be looking at each other. “I’m afraid you did, Lucy. What did I promise you, if Maddie got up?”

Or I could stand behind Sir and watch

“The same as her. Twelve strokes, sir?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know, Lucy girl. And what will you be wearing while I cane you?”

Kneeling naked in the corner, I felt their glances on me. I blushed. Lucy cleared her throat again. I imagined the tears running down her sweet face. “Nothing, Sir.”

“That’s right, Lucy. Then you’ll be a good girl again, once you’ve taken your punishment. I’m sure you’ll take your strokes well. You want me to be proud of you. And you want to be proud of yourself, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.” Lucy’s voice sounded stronger. “Should I… get ready now, Sir? Take my clothes off and bend over your desk?”

Sir let the silence stretch. He was enjoying himself, I knew. I wondered if his cock was hard. I wondered if I’d be able to suck him after Lucy left. He was going to fuck me for the first time, when I went back to his office after school, But I suspected he needed me now. “Come here, Lucy.”

There was a sudden happy sound from Lucy. So Sir had held out his arms, and Lucy had rushed into them. There was a light smack. Lucy was still bare-bottomed from her spanking. She squealed, but I recognised that sound, since I’d made it myself. She was happy to be turning him on.

“All right, Lucy.” Another smack, and another happy squeal. “I don’t have time to deliver two canings right now. Off to class, girl. But come back… after school. Four o’clock.”

Lucy almost sang her “Yes, Sir!” She’d reached the door before Sir coughed. “Sir? Oh!” She scrambled back to the desk to pick up her discarded panties and skirt, and hurriedly put them on. 

His cock would be Lucy’s soon, sometimes and in a way. But it would always be mine

I risked a glance as she skipped to the door again. Sir was beside me when the door shut after her, and he reached down to take a handful of my hair. I tried to get up, but he twisted my hair till it hurt.

“No, Maddie. Just turn around, on your knees. We’ve got some things to talk about, but you’re not going to be using your mouth for speaking. Not for a few minutes.”

I pressed my face against the front of his pants, then, hesitantly because he’d hadn’t told me what to do,

I pulled down his zip and reached inside his trousers. His cock jumped when my hand touched it. It was so hard.

Sir breathed, “Good girl.”

I opened my mouth.

 

 

Wicked Wednesday: Get up, stand up!

I kissed Lucy’s inner thighs one last time, bending over with my head between her legs while she held me down. Sir was tapping his cane on my bottom, letting me know the next stroke would be higher, on the fleshiest part of my bum. 

Then the cane was gone, and I braced myself as best I could. Poor Lucy would get the cane herself if she let me get up. She was my sister in trouble, and I was responsible for her.

Then the cane landed, hard and fiery, slashing a new line of pain across my bottom. I cried out while the pain built, and I knew there must be a welt rising there. Did Sir love my marks? I know I would if I were in his position. Perhaps he’d let me cane Lucy, one day, and I could find out.

Sir’s hand touched my bottom, gently, where the stroke had landed. “That’s lovely, Maddie. You’ll have that to look at for the next few days.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Now, stay down, girl. The next one’s going to be harder.”

I said, “Yes, Sir.” I could feel my own drool, running from my pussy, viscous at the tops of my inner thighs. When he touched me, I’d felt such a wave of wanting him. It got stronger when he told me he was going to go harder on me. I couldn’t understand myself.

But the next stroke bit into my ass, absolutely pitiless, a little higher than the last stroke. I kept still for a second and then I screamed. It hurt so much.

I waggled my bottom furiously, to release all that fiery pain while keeping my upper body under Lucy’s hands, and my head between her soft, sweet thighs.

Then the next landed with no warning, a little higher again. It was harder still.

And my mind sort of switched off. I just wanted the next stroke, and I felt sure that if he caned me for much longer I’d come. I felt so hot, but the heat was in my pussy as well as my bottom, and though Lucy would be shocked if I orgasmed, right there under her hands, I didn’t care about that at all. I didn’t care about anything.

I sighed, voluptuously though I didn’t know the word then, and hoped the next stroke would be soon. And hard. Sir noticed, and his voice was the gentlest I’d ever heard it. “Good girl,” he said. “You’re a good girl, Maddie, and you’ll be all right. Just three to go, if you stay down.”   

And then he swung the cane again, to land just below that pulsing, fiery line left by that first stroke.

I knew it was a hard stroke, but the pain seemed far away. I murmured, “ohhh….”

I could smell Lucy. She was so turned on too. I thought about how she’d be under the cane. Would she love it, like me? She’d been so sparkly-eyed after her spanking from Sir. And holding me for my caning was turning her on so much. I kissed her left thigh, and wished I could be kissing her pussy. 

The cane landed again, the hardest stroke so far. I knew what would please him most. I breathed, “Thank you, Sir.” And I arched my bottom to invite the next stroke. 

“Last stroke, Maddie. It’s always the hardest. But you’ve been a good girl so far, so don’t spoil it.” 

And the twelfth stroke landed, so hard and fast and burning. God, I wanted more. I’d had Sir’s cock in my mouth but now I wanted it properly in me. And I wanted him to cane me even longer first. No, I wanted everything at the same time. I felt Lucy’s hands relax after the stroke landed. She thought it was over.  

So I screamed again. I pushed my hands on Sir’s desk, and lifted my shoulders out of her grasp. And then I put my hands on my bottom – god, those welts were raised high – and danced, lifting my knees, joggling and jiggling on the spot.

Lucy looked at me, horrified. She’d failed to hold me down. She was going to get the cane too, now. I looked into her eyes.

What I wanted to say was too complicated, and anyway Sir hadn’t given me permission to speak. So I looked at her and, as if signalling that I’d done her a huge favour, I smiled. 

 

Wicked Wednesday: Very pretty stripes

The cane landed low across my bottom, and I yelped. It surprised me by hurting so much when Sir wielded it seriously. I tried to keep still, but of course I didn’t completely manage, and Lucy had to press hard on my shoulders. She opened her thighs a little, to push my head further down. 

It was the strangest sensation, with my face between Lucy’s lovely, softly plump thighs, and my bum out and arched up so Sir could hurt me. Lucy stroked my shoulder blades lightly with her fingertips, then resumed the downwards pressure. 

Sir said, “Good girl.” But then he swung the cane again. I heard it swish through the wind, a moment before it hit me. We were both silent and solemn, we two girls, so the crack of it landing on me seemed to fill the room. It might have echoed, but it hurt too much for me to notice. It was even lower, just above the crease of my thighs.

It cancelled out everything else in the world, and this time I cried out with the shock and pain of it. I kept myself still, so Lucy didn’t have to push too hard. After all, she’d get the same if she let me get up, so I was responsible for her. I said, “Oh, sirrrr…” 

“Quiet, Maddie. Keep that bottom up. Ten to go. If you’re good.”

The third and fourth strokes came quickly after that, each lower than the one before, so that the fourth caught me right in that sensitive junction just below my underbum. I was still yowling from the third stroke when the fourth landed, so that I screamed at the fourth, and my head ducked lower into Lucy’s softness while my bottom waggled from side to side. 

Lucy moaned slightly, and I could feel just a touch of wetness on my forehead. God! She was wet! My head had touched her cunt! Well, I couldn’t talk: I was wet too. We were both, in our different ways, loving this. I wanted to kiss that little cunt, but the angles were wrong. I couldn’t reach. I nuzzled her with my forehead again, though, and she moaned, leaning back, rocking a little, holding me tight.

 I had no idea what to do with a girl, and neither did she, I’m sure, but we both wanted to know. Maybe Sir might teach us, one day.

So I was smiling when the fifth and sixth strokes landed. Oh, I screamed and the tears ran down my face, and the stripes, all of them, hurt like fire, like being bitten by a snake, but I still smiled. 

Sir said, “That’s halfway, Maddie. Do you have any idea how beautiful you look? With your stripes?”

“I’ve never seen, Sir. I’ve never been caned, and I’ve only seen…”

“Don’t mention his name. Anyway, they’re very pretty on you.”

“I, uh, I’m glad you like them, Sir.” That sounds ridiculous now, when I say that’s what I said, but I meant it. I still do, whenever I get the cane.

There was a pause. With my head between Lucy’s thighs I had to imagine his smile, but I knew it was there. “Oh,” he said, “they’re something to be proud of, Maddie.”

“Yes. I think I will be. When I see them in the mirror.”

“Would you like a record? I mean a photo? Now and after the twelve?”

“Yes! I’d love to see. And …” I would have blushed, except that my face was already as red as a tomato. “Maybe it’s something to remember.”

“Good girl, Maddie. Lucy, it’ll be quite hard to take those shots without your thighs getting into the picture. Nothing else, just a pair of thighs. You can say no.”

I expected Lucy to say no, but she didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Of course. It’s an important moment.”

Sir said thank you. Sir faffed around with his phone for a while, and I said, “thank you,” too. I kissed Lucy on the inside of her thighs, twice on each side.

Then I felt the cane tapping against my bottom again.  

Wicked Wednesday: Do I smell like that?

So Lucy pulled her skirt up. She wasn’t wearing anything else, except a white, uniform bra. She sat on the edge of the desk. She looked at Sir, and then at me, and she opened her thighs. 

“A little bit further back, Lucy,” Sir said. “Just skootch your bottom back a bit, so Maddie’s got room to bent over and put her head between your thighs.” Lucy blushed – she was being so bold! – and moved back as she’d been told. 

“Good girl, Lucy. Maddie, you know what to do.” 

“Yes, Sir.” I stepped forward, and bent at the waist. It seemed a very formal thing to do, though I was naked and had six stripes blazing across my ass. And I was about to get six more. And another twelve if Sir could make me jump up without permission again. 

My face face pressed between Lucy’s plump thighs. She was such a sweet girl. I wasn’t into girls, but I liked her softness. As Sir liked mine.

Lucy put her hands on my head. She pressed me down so my face got closer to her pussy. 

“Lucy, you’d be safest if you pressed on her shoulders. Remember that I’ll cane you too, if she gets up. So I expect you to hold her tight. Firmly, girl.”

Lucy said, “Yes, Sir.” I felt her hands on my head one more time, pushing me lower so my cheeks pressed against the softness of her inner thighs. Her legs opened a little wider. She smelled like ice cream. Or maybe it was just that I liked the smell of ice cream. She smelled of sweat, really, and traces of piss, and something like almond. It was delicious.

Sir had taken me once already, with his mouth and his nose in my pussy, until I screamed. Did I smell like that? No wonder he liked it.

“Put your arms around her, Maddie. She’s looking after you. So hold her tight.”

“Yes, Sir.” I slipped my hands along her plump bare thighs, and clasped her bottom, one cheek in each hand. Her hands on my shoulders caressed me.

“Good girl. Good girls, both of you. Now, Maddie, be careful not to get up.” I felt the cane tap against my bottom. Once, twice. Lucy stopped carressing and pushed firmly down. I was helpless. But in such a beautiful, confusing, world.

Then the cane was gone. I braced myself.

Wicked Wednesday: Maddie earns extra strokes

So I stayed down, bent over his desk, not even wearing a wristwatch, waiting for the light touch of the cane across my bottom. There had been two taps of the cane against my bottom, to help him to aim, and that told me where Sir was going to put the next stroke. It told me where the next fiery line of pain would land.

The tap came, twice, against my lower bottom, just above the crease of my thighs. Where the skin was softest and most sensitive, and it would hurt me most when I sat down afterwards. Then the cane swept down, and the loud crack of the bamboo on my flesh, and that line of pure pain reached my brain at the same time.

I yowled, and my hands clenched and unclenched while the pain built up. I forced my body down, the desk so cold and hard under my belly and breasts.

Eventually, I could arch my bottom out and up, the way he’d told me, to present myself for his next stroke.

Lucy said, “Two, sir. And thank you for showing me what getting the cane looks like.”

I could hear the choke in her voice. She didn’t like herself for it, but watching me get humiliated and hurt was turning her on. I could have hated her for that, but I didn’t. She was obeying orders, as I was, and we can’t help what makes us aroused.

Eventually Sir said, “Good girls. Both of you. Keep that bottom up, Maddie.”

The next three strokes were delivered with the same delicious slowness and deliberation. I knew he was watching each stripe forming, and thinking about where to put the next. He was like an artist, not a disciplinarian. He was decorating me; my pain was real, but my stripes were beautiful, to him.

I felt proud, and incredibly needy. Cunt-greedy. All I wanted was for him to fill my cunt. I needed to be fucked so badly.

I wouldn’t even care, I’d decided, if Lucy watched that too. I imagined her saying, in that high, choked voice, “Good stroke, sir! And thank you for showing me what getting fucked looks like.”

I chuckled at that thought, and that sealed my fate, I think. Sir said, “Last stroke, Maddie. A nice, traditional six of the best.” 

And I spread for him, moving my feet further apart, when he tapped the cane again, still low on my bottom. I wanted him to see how greedy my cunt was. And, I suppose, Lucy. A second passed, while he held the cane above his shoulder. And then he swung it down, across my underbum, at least twice as hard as the other strokes. Then all I knew was fire and pain. 

I screamed, and my body rose from the desk. I howled and reached back to clutch my bottom. It hurt so much! I was standing up, hands across my ass for comfort and protection, while I hopped in place and swore and swore and swore. 

Sir said, “Hands away, Maddie! Put them on your head!”

When I’d obeyed – I knew I was in trouble, and I put my hands up as fast as I could – he strode forward and spanked me hard, several times, on my bottom, already sore and striped from the cane. I managed to take those in silence, though the tears of pain and shame streamed down my face. 

He turned my face towards him then, and we were close enough to kiss. I wanted to melt into his arms, but I knew I couldn’t. It wasn’t that Lucy was watching: she was already part of this strange intimacy between us. It was that I was in disgrace. 

Sir looked at Lucy then. “What do you think happens now, Lucy?”

She was so pale. She started to speak, and cut herself off. Finally she managed to say, “I– I don’t know, Sir.” 

“If you lie to me again, Lucy, you’ll get the same as Maddie. Do you understand?” 

Lucy’s little pink tongue passed around her lips. Eventually she said, “She’d get the same again, Sir.” 

“That’s right. And if she gets up again – you hear me, Maddie! – she’ll get another twelve. All right, Lucy. Maddie’s got six strokes coming. Do you want to watch her get another twelve on top of that?”

There was another silence. I watched Lucy. She was wearing only her shirt, and perhaps a bra. Her thighs and knees were trembling, and the tears in her eyes had spilled. She said, “No, Sir.”

Then another silence. Sir and I both knew Lucy was lying. Or part of her was. But Sir said, “Then you’re a kind girl, and I’m sure you’d like to held young Maddie, wouldn’t you?” 

Lucy frowned. “Yes, Sir?” 

“Good girl. I want you to pull your shirt up to your waist, and sit on the edge of my desk. Maddie’s going to put her head in your lap while I cane her. You’re going to hold her in place, Lucy, with your thighs and your hands holding her down. And if she takes her nose out of your … lap, just once, then she’ll get the extra twelve. And you’ll get them along with her. Do you understand?”

Lucy hesitated. 

 

 

Wicked Wednesday! Maddie, meet the cane!

I stepped forward, avoiding Lucy’s gaze, and bent over Sir’s desk. Lucy’s skirt lay folded on the desk beside me, where she’d taken it off to receive her spanking. I put my hands forward, and lowered the upper half of my body slowly down to the desktop. 

The desk was cold. I could feel my own goosebumps, then the cold, hard surface when my nipples touched the wood and I let myself all the way down.

I knew I was helpless now. I felt absolutely powerless. It was going to happen. 

I felt his hand pressing down on the small of my back. “Bottom up, Maddie. You know what presentation means.” So, under the force of his hand I arched my back, so that all of my body pressed tight on the desk, while my bottom jutted up. For him, and Lucy, to watch. 

“Good girl. Keep it up. Even when the cane’s hurting. You get one warning on that, Maddie, then I start issuing extra strokes.” 

There was a gasp from Lucy, a suppressed protest on my behalf. “Come here, Lucy.” I supposed she must have crossed the carpet behind me, because the next thing I heard was the the unmistakeable sound of Sir’s hand landing on Lucy’s bottom. She got a dozen, and she was wailing quietly for the last four of spanks.

He spoke quietly, so I guessed she was in his arms. “Maddie needs to learn discipline,” he said to her. “If she knows she gets extra strokes if she moves out of position, will that help her stay in position?” 

There was a silence. Lucy had to be thinking. To answer “Yes”, would be to approve of me getting extra strokes, and she didn’t want to say that. Then there was another loud smack. Lucy cried out, “Sir! Sorry, Sir! Yes, Sir, it’s kinder to warn her.” 

“Good. Now, Lucy, would you like to do Maddie a favour, while I cane her?” 

There was another silence, while Lucy considered what on earth that might mean. But finally she said, “Yes, Sir.” As I would have in her position. 

“Good girl. Sometimes when a girl is being caned, she has to count each stroke out loud, and thank me for each one. You know that, don’t you?” 

“Yes, Sir.” Her voice was breathy. I wondered, over his desk, eyes looking at at the dark teak below me, if he was doing something to her while they spoke. Or if she found the situation exciting. It was at that thought that I realised that I was getting wet. It was a turn-on, to know that watching me aroused her. And if Sir was stroking her while they talked, I wasn’t even jealous. 

“Good girl. I want you to count the strokes. In a loud, clear voice after each one. And then you can thank me for showing you what a caning looks like. Can you do that, Lucy?” 

“Yes.” She was barely whispering. “Sir.” 

“Then we begin.” And a few seconds later I felt a thin, hard pressure against the fullest part of my bottom. Then it tapped me once, and then it was gone.

I waited, wondering how much it was going to hurt. Then it landed, a straight line of fire across both cheeks of my bottom, exactly where he’d tapped me. It hurt instantly, and then a second later it hurt more than anything I’d felt before. Oh, it burned. 

I screamed, “Yaaaah!”, and my body rocked and writhed on his desk. “Oh! Ah Sir! Sir, that huuuurts!” 

A second later Lucy said, “One, Sir. Thank you for letting me watch, watch what getting caned looks like.” 

I struggled with myself. It took all of my will-power not to get up and run Though where I could have run, stark naked with a fresh cane-stripe across my ass, I’m not sure. Eventually I managed to get my bottom up, the way he’d told me, for the next stroke. 

“Good girl, Maddie. A little faster, next time. Can you manage that?” 

I thought about extra strokes. Then I thought about how much I wanted to please him. “Yes sir, I will stay in position. Or get myself back into position quickly. Sir.” 

“Good girl. But if I have to warn you again, you will get extra.” I nodded into his desk. Of course I was going to earn extra strokes. I was never going to get used to this. 

The cane returned, pressing against my bottom, just a little lower than that first stroke. Then a little tap, then the cane’s terrifying absence. I held my breath.