While Lynette fiddled with the camera I swished the bamboo cane a couple of times, letting it speed past Raylene’s ass. The sound and then the wind of it unnerved her, and she flinched, buttocks clenching. Then, knowing that was wrong and possibly punishable, she arched her ass up again.
“Ready.” Lynette had the camera pointed at me, rather than Raylene. Then she moved it, presumably to frame Raylene’s ass and catch the reaction when the cane actually landed.
I said, “Good girl.”
Lynette frowned. I said, “You know what ‘good girl’ means, don’t you?”
“I know what it means when you say it to Raylene. And I know why it makes Dorabella uncomfortable when you say it to her.”
I glanced at Dorabella, who had her arms pressing down on Raylene’s shoulders. “Dorabella, I say it to you because you’re being good. I mean, helpful. And I mean it as praise.”
Dorabella tightened her robe, so her breasts and a long sliver of her tummy disappeared. “Maybe,”
“And it’s true, a couple of times I’ve been teasing you, because I keep getting the feeling that you’d like – Never mind. That’s probably wishful thinking.”
Dorabella’s face gave nothing away.
“Though I’m not completely sure I’m wrong, either. Regardless, I shouldn’t tease you, and I’m sorry. I won’t say it again without your permission.”
Dorabella smiled at me. I might have been being over-cautious. But she said, “Thank you. Actually, I quite like hearing you say it. Doesn’t give you the right to cane me, though.”
“Raylene, would I start with a caning?”
Raylene raised her head as far as she could, which wasn’t far. “You spanked me, master. To begin with. And I guarantee that Bellie would -“
“Rayyyy-lene.” Raylene’s head dropped again. I couldn’t see her face, but I could imagine her smirk. I kept my face straight. “Anyway, Dorabella, I wouldn’t do anything without your consent. And you’re still a good girl.”
She smiled, with dimples. “Thank you. On both counts.”
So I looked back at Lynette, patiently waiting through this comedy. She said, “Oh, you can call me ‘good girl’ too. It’s meant to be patronising. But I take it as a kind of parody.”
“Yeah, it is parody.” I was going to go on and say that even so, part of the way in which it felt good, below the layers of irony, was in submission responding to dominance. Safe, approving, warm dominance, but dominance just the same.
But I stopped in time. Better to let her feel she’d won a point than put her on her guard.
“But you’re still a good girl, too. Thanks for doing the filming.”
Lynette smiled. She liked praise. And, more dangerously for her, she was starting to like my approval.
I pulled her closer, this time, rather than step towards her, and kissed her, gently, one hand on her ass. No smacks. I whispered, “Good girl.”
She closed her eyes, then said, “I know what you’re doing.”
But she was smiling. I said, “Does it make any difference?”
She didn’t answer. I kissed her again.
But it was time. I stepped back and raised the cane. “Raylene.”
“Yes, master.” In high, sing-song soprano. She was making her voice sound as cherubic as she could.
The stripe flared across that soft skin, just above the crease of her buttocks and thighs.
“A very bad girl.”
Raylene’s hair flew, and the desk rocked under her attempts to move, thwarted by Dorabella’s arms.
I nodded, waiting for her to get herself still, and her ass up and offered to the cane again.
“Bad girl,” I said again, and lashed the cane down directly onto that delicate crease. Raylene was silent for a second, shocked by the pain.
Then, as the welt bloomed redly, there were sobs.