Wicked Wednesday: Maddie’s tale

The previous episode is here

Sir had said I was going to enjoy helping him to give Lucy her first caning. I felt a little guilty about that because Lucy was only going to get the cane because she’d been told to hold me down, and I’d deliberately got up, just to get her into trouble. I planned to start disciplining Lucy myself, soon, but I didn’t want to hurt her just now. So I said, “Sir?”  

“Maddie, I want you to sit on my desk.”

“Yes, Sir.” I rested my bottom on his desk and swung my legs. “No, not perch on my desk. I want you to get right up on top. And right over to the other side of the desk.” 

“Ok, sir.”

And I clambered up, aware of both Lucy and Sir watching me. So I sat in the middle, my knees up, arms over my knees, looking at them. 

“Good girl. Now skootch a little further back. So you’re on the far side of the desk. When my chair is.” 

I skootched. His desk was oak. The wood was so hard and cold, under my bottom and thighs. “Sir?” 

“Good girl. Now spread your knees, wide apart as you can. Good. What do you think, Lucy?”

Lucy stood beside Sir. Her thighs were trembling. She said, “She – Mistress. She looks very hot, Sir.”

Sir put his arms round Lucy and turned hewr to face him. He cuddled her, and whispered, “Don’t be afraid, Lucy. The cane hurts, but you’ve known it was going to be part of your life since this morning, haven’t you?”

“Y-yes, Sir. I have. But I’m still afraid.” She leaned in against him, put her arms round him. I knew how lovely and luscious Lucy felt. I wished it was me, in her arms. 

“Lucy, what you’re afraid of, lovely little one, is mostly the unknown. All the terrors of your imagination. You’ll find this is going to sting, and it’ll mark for you a few days. But it’s not as terrifying as you think. You’ve got Maddie to thank, for you being just about to get your first caning. You know that, don’t you.”

“Sir! I let her get up when you told me to hold her down. I failed, Sir.”

Sir smiled and smacked Lucy’s bottom lightly, then let his hand stay there, squeezing. Lucy wriggled.

“Yes, but she got up, Lucy, darling. She wanted you to get the cane today. She was turned on and she wanted to watch you be punished too. But she also did you a good turn. It’s better to get the cane early, than to fear it and let the fear build up until it becomes something terrible. So I want you to turn now, and thank your Mistress for getting you caned.”

“Sir!?” Lucy sounded shocked. Then she thought, and nodded. She looked at me. Her tongue came out and wet her lips. I felt it in my cunt, when she did that.

Lucy swallowed, then spoke firmly. “Maddie. Mistress, thank you for making sure I got the cane today. It is better if I don’t have to wait. So thank you.”

Sir smacked Lucy’s bottom again. A little harder, leaving a pink print this time. But he said, “That’s good, Lucy. Well done.”

Lucy smiled and cuddled in again, her breasts heavy and so pale, crushed against his jacket. Sir kissed her forehead, then looked at me. “Good girl, Maddie. Now lean back. Put your hands on the edge of the desk, behind you. And push your pussy forward a little. No, more. That’s good. Don’t move out of that position until I say.”

He stepped back from Lucy, then picked up the cane again. She was being brave, but now her caning was about to happen I could see tears glistening in her eyes. He whispered something to her. I couldn’t catch it but it was loving, encouraging.

He held the cane under her chin, to lift her head. Then he touched it to her mouth, and she kissed it. Slowly, almost reverently.

Wicked Wednesday: Maddie’s elegant caning

The previous episode is here

 

I don’t mean that last cane stroke didn’t hurt. It burned like fire. I felt like I was being branded. It was just that… that felt right. There was something sweet there. Something deeply sexual, like it was below my human brain. Something atavistic, like an animal. An animal in love and lust. 

The next two strokes climbed up my thighs. “Nine, Sir. Ten, Sir,” counted Lucy.

I squealed and sobbed again, continuously, no longer trying to control it. But now the sobs celebrated what was happening as much as they protested it. The tenth stroke burned just under the crease of my bottom. I dreaded the moment the cane would land directly of my crease. I knew it would be too much for me.

And I yearned for it, for exactly the same reason.

The next two strokes whipped across my bottom, as low as they could go, just above the crease. I moaned. How could this feel good? How could I take the fear of what was coming? I was learning something, something that changed my life, but I didn’t understand it yet. That need for discipline in my life, to give myself and lower myself to a Master. And to the pain he might give me: I needed that too. But I hadn’t processed that, just yet. It was my first inkling.

“Eleven, Sir. Twelve, Sir.” Was there discomfort in Lucy’s voice now? She knew she was next. She was a softer girl than me. 

“Good girl, Maddie. Now, I want you to keep your legs straight. And bend a littlke tighter for these last two strokes”

“Yes, Sir.”I obeyed, quickly.

“Good girl.You look so neat, so very elegant, my darling.”

“Oh, Sir.” I felt so exposed, so completely his. 

“Good girl. You always look perfect for me, my little one.”

I wanted to break and cover him with kisses. I turned my toes inwards, just to expose myself a little more.

I hope he thought my pussy was elegant, too. There was silence, while he looked at me.

At last he said, “Brace yourself, Maddie. I want you to take these two in silence, because they’re not part of the twelve strokes. You know where they’re going, and you know they’ll hurt you. So be a good, brave girl for me. I rely on you, to show Lucy an example, You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes Sir. I’ll be…” I was going to say ‘good’. I said, “quiet.”

“Good girl.” I smiled, despite myself. The next two strokes came hard and fast, only about five seconds between them. That crease is some of my softest skin. I wanted to wail, and jump across the floor holding my arse. But somehow I could stand it, though part of me knew they were the worst strokes of all. Another part of me felt so good, that I was so strong, so controlled and so much his. 

“Thirteen, Sir. Forteen, Sir.” 

“Good girl, Lucy. And Maddie, you’ve been a brave, beautiful good girl. I’m very proud of you. But don’t move, little Maddie.” 

I said, “Ohh, Sir.” It wasn’t a protest. I felt so His. I was His property. And that made me feel so floaty. 

“Lucy, put two fingers in your Mistress’s pussy, girl.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

A moment later I felt her touch me, then enter and explore. This was more intimate touch that we’d ever had. But we both wanted it; Sir had made it happen. I sighed as Lucy probed and stroked inside me, and my whole body shook a little, with the emotion of it.

“Now withdraw, Lucy. Hold your hand up.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

There was a pause. Sir said, “Nicely sopping. Good girl, Maddie.” He sounded so happy with me. “Lucy, clean your fingers now. With your mouth, girl. It’s time you tasted your Mistress.”

“Yes, Sir.”

A second later Sir was holding me by my shoulders. He helped me up. I turned and embraced him. God, I wanted him to fuck me then and there. But he just cuddled me.

He kissed my forehead, and when I dared look at him, my mouth. I was held in his arms, my ass burning, I heard him say, “Good girl. My girl. You deserved that, but you were very brave, and the slate’s wiped clean. You’re my very good girl again.”

There were tears streaming down my cheeks, now I was upright. I didn’t ask for his permission; I kissed him, and I looked at Lucy, warning her to stay back, and I took his cock in my hand. He kissed me back, and we rocked together for a while. 

But at last Sir put his hands on my shoulders and set me back a pace. “Now, I’m going to need your help, Maddie, while I give Lucy her first caning. I think you’re going to enjoy the way you help.”  

 

The next episode is here

Wicked Wednesday: Maddie learns a lesson about pain

The previous episode is here

Even while my pain was building, I could hear Sir’s breathing, with his mouth open, responding to Lucy’s hand on his cock.

“That’s lovely, Lucy,” Sir said. “Keep that up.” Lucy giggled, and there was a slap. Sir’s hand on her bottom.

“The next time we find ourselves doing this, Lucy, you’ll be using your mouth. Would you like to be taught how to please me best, when you’re sucking my cock?”

Lucy said, “Oh god yes, Sir. Sir–” She stopped, uncertain.

“Yes, Lucy?”

“I want you to teach me everything. All the things there are. Please Sir.”

“Ahhh, Lucy.” I didn’t dare look, but I knew he’d drawn her in close, holding her. They were kissing. Another time I might have wondered whether I felt jealous, but the burning pain iacross my bottom still held all of my attention. Lucy gasped: he must have touched her pussy, and then she made a little moan. He was stroking her. 

Then I heard Lucy stumble. He’d broken the cuddle and set her back in place. I imagined her hand, stroking the length of Sir’s cock. I’d sucked Sir off, but I hadn’t done that with my hands. Lucy got to do that first.

“Maddie.” That was all the warning I got. Then the cane landed, hard, across my thighs. Usually I minded that my thighs still held a little puppy-fat, though I did my best to work it off, But in that second I thanked the gods that tiny bit of extra padding was there. I screamed again. I couldn’t help myself.

Lucy said, “Two, Sir.” She must have done something with her hand, because I heard Sir gasp.

“Oh Sir,” I said. “It hurts soooo much.”

“Don’t speak again, Maddie. Now, I’ve marked out the top line and the bottom line of this caning. The rest of your strokes are going in between. It’s going to hurt.”

“Going to? Sir…”

“But I need you to be a good girl, Maddie. You’ve got an example to set for Lucy here. And I know you can do it. Bravely. Obediently. Like the best of good girls.”

I smiled and sniffed. He cared for me. I knew that, but that reached me through all the pain. A second later the third stroke landed, a little lower on my underbum, perhaps half an inch below the first stroke. God, it burned.

I screamed, and my hands left the floor. I wanted so strongly to clutch my arse, and rub it. But I managed to stay down, and I returned the palms of my hands to the floor.

Lucy said, “Three, Sir.”

Sir said, “I’ll pretend I didn’t see that, Maddie.”

I’d thought I was in trouble. I gasped, “Thank you, Sir.”

“But if you were to rub your bottom without permission, or even take your hands off the floor again, you know you’ll get extra. So,” and his voice was icy now, “be more careful, girl.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He wasn’t warning me any more. The next stroke was a little higher on my thighs. I screamed again, as the pain built, and then started to sob. I couldn’t stop. Sir was punishing me, mercilessly. I also felt that he was making me his, when he marked me and hurt me, and some of the sobs were from that. It was emotion more than pain.

“Four, Sir.”

Two more strokes whipped in, hard and fast on my thighs, each line a little higher than the one before. I was in agony, all through my body, and we weren’t even halfway yet!

“Five, Sir. Six, Sir.” Lucy was a little short-breathed. She was turned on, watching her Mistress getting punished. 

Then, with two hard strokes across my bottom, working their way lower, I was past the halfway point.

“Seven, Sir. Eight, Sir.”

Just six strokes to go. But something had changed in me. I didn’t scream for that last stroke.

I felt as if that girl getting the cane, Maddie, was very small and far away. In one way I was in the worst pain I’d ever been in in my life. At another level, I was only aware of how completely I’d given myself to him, and how entirely he’d taken me. I belonged to him, for him to do with as he wanted.

There was a kind of sweetness with the pain, all the way through my body and my mind, that I hadn’t experienced before.And I knew we were going to continue, as my caning would continue, until I found my way entirely into that sweetness.

The next episode is here

Wicked Wednesday: The Cocky Caning

The previous episode is here.

 

Lucy was stroking Sir’s penis,that I was still getting used to thinking of as my Sir’s  cock. He’d ordered Lucy to do that because he was determined not to take any of her virginities tonight. But her hand was fine.

He’d said that the more turned on he was, the harder he’d cane.

I don’t think Lucy wanted me to be hurt, or not too much, but I knew her: it was her nature to do her utmost to please him.

So I waited, bent over with my fingers touching my toes, and that cane having touched my lower bottom, which I’d already learned hurt the worst, I knew I was in for a very hard, painful caning indeed. 

Sir said, “I want you bent tighter than that, Maddie. Palms flat on the floor.” 

I said, “Yes, Sir,” and moved my hands lower, then let my palms rest on the floor. Fortunately I was a supple girl; I still am. Yoga students and girls who get the cane regularly need to be supple. 

I could feel the way my body tightened. I was presented perfectly, from his point of view. My pussy felt terribly exposed, not just to his gaze, though I knew it was that, but also, in that position, to the cane. A really hard stroke could easily reach my pussylips.

I wondered if I’d be able to take that without getting up.

Sir said, “All right, Maddie. You know you’re generally expected to take a caning in silence. If I tell you to, you can count the strokes aloud and thanks me for each one. I’m not expecting you to do that. Lucy’s going to do the counting for you. So what does that mean, Maddie?”

My heart sank. “I’m not to make any sound at all, Sir.”

“That’s right, girl. Those are the rules. Do you think you’ll be able to manage that?” 

“I… I don’t know, Sir.” 

“I have my doubts too. There’s a choice for you, Maddie. If you accept two extra strokes, making fourteen, then I’ll allow you to scream and squeal and carry on, so long as you keep still. If you don’t take the two extra strokes, and you scream, then you get the stroke over. So, what’s it to be?” 

I felt the cane touch me again, this time on my legs, about four inches below the crease of my bum. Oh god. I whimpered. I knew that I’d get more than two extra strokes if the rule of silence applied to this caning. “I’ll take the two strokes. The extra strokes, Sir.” 

“I think that’s a sensible choice. So that makes how many strokes of the cane you’re due for?”

I felt tears slip from my eyes, down into my eyebrows, to get lost in my hair. I sniffed. “Fourteen strokes, Sir.” 

“Good girl, Maddie. I still expect you to stay in place. Get up, and you’ll get another twelve. Understood.” 

I wanted to sob already. “Y-yes, Sir.” 

“All right Lucy, A little bit slower, now. I don’t want to come until I’ve got you two home with me. Now, Maddie.” 

“Yes Sir?”

But he was warning me. I must have heard the cane swishing through the air, but I don’t remember that. I only remember the pain and heat when it landed across my underbum.

It was so hard. I couldn’t help it. I screamed on the very first stroke, though I’d sworn to myself I wouldn’t, and my hips and bottom jerked convulsively. I only just managed to stop myself from getting up.

Lucy said, “One, Sir.” There was awe in her voice.

 

The next episode is here.

Lest we forget the dead donkey

My great-grandfather was at Gallipoli. Gallipoli was an attempt to get a land pathway into Europe which British troops could follow, and attack the Germans closer to Germany than the stagnant lands created by trench warfare.

The road through Turkey would be opened by non-British troops, mainly New Zealanders and Australians, whose deaths in a futile and poorly planned operation wouldn’t be making headlines in England. There was a beach selected for this task, and naturally the British navy sailed straight past it and dumped the “colonial” troops into a beach where conditions would be intolerable if you lived, and where the Turks could sit up in the hills safely pouring lead onto the poor bastards on the beachhead. 

Anyway, my great-grandfather was stuck on the killing beach. He did what you do under the circumstances. You try to go forward, you try to kill people wearing the other clothing style, you try to keep your head down and stay alive, and sometimes you do crazy brave things because the men you’re with are doing them too. 

He came back from the meat-grinder alive but fucked. He couldn’t re-settle, he couldn’t be with his family, and he spent the rest of his life, except his last two years, trying to drink himself to death. Unluckily for him, the Mortimers have weird genes, and though he spent nearly eighty years consuming pretty much nothing but gin when he could afford it and sherry when times were worse, smoking when he could and sleeping rough, he lived until his late nineties. 

In the last eighteen month of his life, when he was ninety-six, he became the live-in handyman at a block of apartments in Nelson, chopping wood (I told you we’re genetically weird), fixing fuses and hinges and water piping for the young couples living around him. He was proud of himself for the first time since 1915.

He died in the 1990s. Someone managed to locate his family and contacted my father, who wasn’t actually a relation except by marriage, and he went down and cleared up . 

Anyway, my great-grandfather wouldn’t talk about Gallipoli, or Chunuk Bair. There wasn’t much to say. Except one thing. He said he was on the slopes with a donkey carrying water. The donkey got hit smack in the stomach by a cannon shell. It whipped its head around in time to see the middle of its body gone and its hind legs falling. Then the front of the donkey fell too, head facing my great-grandfather.

My great-grandfather used to say that the expression on the donkey’s face, when it realised it was fucked (grotesquely destroyed, if you prefer), was something he’d never forget as long as he lived. 

I never met my great-grandfather. The only time I ever saw him was when I was nine. I was at a family wedding that he, pointedly, hadn’t been invited to. He turned up drunk, with a drunk friend, and got turned away. I missed that, but saw him later at a kid’s play area with a helter skelter. He and his friend decided to walk up the spiral of the slide, and come down the ladder.

It took them a long time but they made it, with assorted family members standing a distance away making disgusted comments. I knew nothing, understood nothing, but I did feel a kind of sympathy with him. Not “that poor man”. More like, “that’s odd but kind of cool”. 

It was my mother who told me the only thing he’d ever said about his experience at Gallipoli. So I don’t know how he told that story: was it a parable about the way the New Zealand and Australian men were treated when the British decided to throw their lives onto a choppingboard? I don’t know: but my guess is that, yeah, it was that, but above all, he thought it was funny.

The people in my country have the blackest sense of humour I’ve encountered anywhere in the world. Throw in having lived through Gallipoli, and I’d say my great-grandfather would have had get a sense of humour so dark it had infinite gravity.

Anyway, I’ve never given a fuck about ANZAC Day. Nor, I understand, did he.

When I see it being used by politicians to defend more stupid military deployments, for the sake of someone else’s empire, I get really, deeply disgusted and angry. And it’s nearly impossible to make me angry.  

So, I think the poor sods in the army, navy or air force who get sent where their country tells them to go deserve sympathy, and most importantly they deserve real help while they’re alive.

But fuck ANZAC Day. It was bullshit in the first place, and it’s now been securely seized by right-wing, race-baiting arseholes. Fuck them, fuck the politicians, fuck the snivelling scumlicking bullies in the Murdoch press, fuck all that bullshit. Fuck, as I said, ANZAC Day. 

I remember the mess it made of my great-grandfather, sometimes, in bugle-free private, and I remember that poor bloody donkey. 

Wicked Wednesday: I perform for Lucy

The previous episode is here.

 

So I went to the cupboard in his office. I saw more than I’d expected or even imagined, when I opened it. He had three canes of varying sizes,  including one comically short one that I expected was for use on girls who were over his knee. I imagined what that would be like, and then I felt that vision in my cunt. I hoped he’d do that to me.

There were strips of leather in varying thickness and widths, straps and hawses, and paddles, two leather and one thick wooden one with holes drilled in it. I thought I’d try to avoid the wooden one. Once he knew me, he’d know that was the only implement that would really punish me.

There were leather strips, with buckles, for securing a boy or girl who wouldn’t stay in place for punishment, and there were other things whose use I couldn’t even guess.

But Sir was a man to obey exactly and quickly, so I selected the longest and thickest cane and turned to hold it out to him, offering it out to him with my arms outstretched in front of me, and my palms open.

He looked at me, letting me know I had to do more, so I lowered myself as elegantly as I could, without dropping the cane, to one knee, then the other.

Kneeling naked in front of him, stripes from my caning this morning still warm across my arse, I didn’t think I could feel any more lowered, more submissive to him. I was wrong.

He stepped forward, so his feet were between my spread knees, unzipped quickly and took out his cock. He was hard. I opened my mouth quickly, and he thrust into me, not gently, as far as he could. I choked and fought back the urge to cough. It was easier when I made myself relax, his cock thrusting into me. I kept still, allowing him to fuck me. My drool ran down to my chin while he used me. If he’d touched my cunt with his shoe he’d find the leather gleaming with my juices. I could feel I was about to leak onto the upper slopes of my inner thighs.

Without breaking his stroke, fucking my mouth, he said, “Come here, Lucy.”

“Yes, Sir.” She stepped forward. I was focussed on Sir, but I could see her cunt and thighs. She was standing beside Sir and me.

“Are you good at this, Lucy?” His cock in and out of my mouth, fucking me casually while talking to my girl.

“I don’t know, Sir. I’ve never–“

“Never? You’re a virgin? I mean, your mouth?”

“Yes, Sir. My everything. But I know I’d be good. For you.”

“You would be, little Lucy. I wouldn’t even have to cane you, I don’t think. And Maddie can help teach you. She’s good.”

Still working on his cock I made a little pleased throaty noise, so he knew I’d heard and liked that. I still had the cane in my hands, pressed lightly against his shins. “The cane, Maddie.” I reached up and he took it from me. He pressed his left hand firmly against the back of my head, so his cock was deep in my throat. Then he raised the cane over his shoulder and whipped it down my back, catching my right cheek. “If I want to hear from you, girl, I’ll ask you.”

I would have cried in pain, but his cock gagged me. A few seconds later, his cock still moving in my throat, he whipped the cane down my left buttock. I wanted to moan. But somehow that second stroke felt good. And the third, and then the fourth, one side then the other while he fucked my mouth, deep, unhurried. It balanced the hurt, and I knew it was right that I hurt.

I could see Lucy watching, her mouth open too.

The next episode is here.

Wicked Wednesday: Lucy changes hands

The previous episode is here.

I turned and approached Sir. I wanted to explain, but also to show him I was good, by saying nothing without his permission. 

Sir said, “So, Maddie. Who gave you permission to spank little Lucy here?” 

I didn’t want to get Lucy into more trouble with Sr, so I said, “No one, Sir.”

But Sir smacked Lucy’s bottom again, still holding her across his knee. She really was quite red with his slaps, even though her formal spanking hadn’t begun yet. “No one, hmm? I’m thinking it might have been Lucy here.”

I said, “No Sir, she didn’t– It was my doing, Sir.” 

Lucy interrupted. “I gave her permission! I want to be under her control, the same way she is with you. Sir.” 

Sir spanked her again, but it was almost gentle. And his, “Speak when you’re spoken to, Lucy,” had no anger in it. Lucy looked at me, helplessly. She had some message for me, but I couldn’t read it.

I said, “Sir? Please Sir. I meant to tell you what we’d done, but I didn’t get time before Lucy arrived. I don’t think it’s bad, but… Well, you’re the judge of that, of course, Sir. But may I explain, Sir?”

Sir looked at me. I could see that he was trying not to smile, and I felt a wave of feeling: it wasn’t relief but lust.

I wanted to be fucked, as soon as possible. Not even the thought of being caned first worried me. I was still in his good books, whatever he pretended. That meant so much.

“All right, Maddie. I think you’d better explain, too. Begin.”

“Sir, it was at lunchtime. We were talking about coming here after school. And then to your place. And when Lucy wanted to watch me getting fucked, that turned me on so much. And, well, you know what Lucy’s like.” Sir put his hand on Lucy’s bottom and stroked her, dipping his finger between her buttocks. Lucy sighed and wriggled. Sir knew what she was like, all right. 

“And I couldn’t help myself. I told her she belonged to me. As my property, to command and reward and punish as I like. And to pleasure me whenever I tell her. But I also said that I belong to you, and that means that she belongs to you, too. In the same way.”

“So. So you bought me a gift? Are you happy with being a gift, little Lucy?” His finger delved deeper, and Lucy’s face suddenly burned red. I knew where he had her.  

Lucy writhed a little. She was showing off, but she was also enjoying his attentions. “Yes, Sir. With your permission, Sir. If you want me, then I belong to you too. I’d love to be your gift. From my Mistress.” 

Sir laughed. “Open your thighs, Lucy.”

When Lucy obeyed, he put three fingers into her little pussy, and pressed his thumb against that tighter hole, her little bud. She sighed while he stroked her. “All right, Lucy, You belong to me.”

“Th-thank you, Sir1” Lucy’s voice quavered on “Sir”. She was finding it hard to talk. 

Sir said, “Just one thing. You have a Master and a Mistress. So you’re a lucky girl. We’re all lucky, I think. Including you, Maddie.”

I swallowed. I was being allowed to keep my girl. I said, “Yes, Sir. I know I am.” I watched Lucy’s wriggles and little struggles. She was going to come soon. 

“But, Lucy, if your Mistress tells you to stand, and your Master tells you to sit, what do you do?” 

“Uh! I– I sit, Sir! Uh! You’re in charge, I know that!” Then her head dropped and her bottom rose. Rose-coloured it was, too. She closed her eyes and writhed against Sir’s hand, hands on the carpet and feet in the air, groaning and wailing.

At last she said, “Oh, oh god. Thank you, Sir. Thank you!”

Sir smacked her bottom, hard. “Good girl. Now we begin. Maddie?” 

“Yes, Sir?” 

“You know where I keep the canes.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Fetch the senior cane. Now.”

 

The next episode is here.

Wicked Wednesday: Maddie and Lucy, in Sir’s office

The previous episode is here.

After school I raced to Sir’s office, hoping to meet Lucy before she arrived. But she’d already knocked on the door, and Sir had called, “Come”, so we went in together.

Sir was sitting behind his desk. I’d expected to see the cane there,like a badge of office and as a warning to us. But the desk was bare.

Sir smiled. “Good afternoon, Maddie. Hello, Lucy.”

So we chorused, “Good afternoon, Sir.” I looked at Lucy. She wouldn’t look at me. I hoped she wasn’t feeling feeling guilty, or silly, for giving herself to me.

I hoped she was just afraid of what Sir would think. I was about to tell him. “Sir-“

“I didn’t ask for you to speak, Maddie. Take your clothes off, and go and stand and face the wall. Lucy, you stay where you are.”

Lucy said, “Yes, Sir.”

So I swallowed the “But Sir” that I wanted to say, and started to undo the buttons of my shirt. Sir had never specified, but I expected that when he said, “take off your clothes”, I had about three minutes, maximum, before painful penalties applied. I took off the bra, and then pushed my little tartan skirt and panties down together. I stepped out of them, leaving them on the floor, and took off my socks and shoes. Then I turned to face the wall, letting my nose and nipples touch the cool woodl.

“All right, Lucy. you haven’t had the cane before, have you?”

Lucy’s voice was a little high, and shaky. “No, Sir. Never.” I wanted to turn and watch them, but I knew he’d be angry with me if I disobeyed. So I had to imagine Lucy’s squirming.

“Well, you’re about to, little Lucy. Do you think it’ll hurt?”

“Sir! Oh, yes. I’ve heard it hurts terribly.” I imagined her glancing at me when she said that.

“I intend that it will hurt you, Lucy. You didn’t hold young Maddie down when I told you to. Did you?”

“No. Sir, I know I deserve the cane.”

There was silence, while Sir looked at her. Sir would be surprised by that answer. Was Lucy teasing him? He didn’t know. Neither did I.

He said, “Take your dress off, Lucy. Now, girl.”

There was rustling beside me, just out of sight. Eventually Lucy said, “Sir.”

“Now take your panties off, put them in your mouth, and come here.”

Lucy said, “Yes, Sir.” No hesitation. She must have obeyed, because a few seconds later I heard the crisp sound of Sir’s hand landing on her bottom. Then another smack, even louder. Lucy made a small nasal noise, but couldn’t speak.

“Good. Shirt and bra off now, girl.” Mote rustling of cotton. Lucy would be naked, now. “I’m going to give you a spanking first, Lucy. Before I cane you. Do you understand why?”

I heard Lucy try to speak. So did Sir. There was another ringing smack, the hardest yet.

“Do not speak, Lucy. Honestly, I wonder sometimes if you’re as stupid as Maddie here. Just nod your head, or shake it.”

Lucy must have shaken her head, because Sir said, “You might think it’s extra punishment to get a spanking before you get the cane, but it isn’t. It helps to warm you up, and it increases blood circulation in the skin of your bottom. That means it won’t hurt you quite as much, and you don’t mark quite so severely. I’m giving you a warm-up because you were at least trying to be a good girl. Now Maddie, here, she’s just going to get her caning cold. Do you understand?”

Lucy would have nodded, her mouth still full. Then there was another sound: Lucy’s sudden hissing in of breath, and a faint moan. Had Sir touched her? Then there was silence for a few seconds, and another moan. Sir had to be stroking Lucy’s cunt. When he spoke, at last, he sounded a little out of breath, “Good girl, Lucy. One warm-up spanking for you. Now,” I heard him sit in the office chair. “Get over my knee.” 

I imagined his view, Lucy’s lovely waist and delectable little bottom under his gaze. His hand resting on her softness. I waited for the spanking to begin, but there was silence. Then Sir said, “What’s this mark on the side of your thigh? I didn’t spank you there this morning. Lucy? Where did you get extra spanks from, since this morning?” 

Lucy stayed silent. It wasn’t just that her mouth was full. She didn’t want to tell on me. I said, “Sir~”

“Ah. Maddie. Of course. Come here, girl. I think you two girls have some explaining to do.”

The next episode is here.

Wicked Wednesday: Worried thoughts, and the shadow of the slipper

Note

The previous episode of Maddie’s steamy saga is here. 

 

Worried thoughts, and the shadow of the slipper

Maddie sat, trying to concentrate on French. But she thought about Lucy, her girl. And Sir, who was going to cane her after school that afternoon. And cane Lucy, too. Naked, the both of them. 

She knew he’d be happy with that thought. He’d already shown her what he thought of her body, and she knew Lucy, naked, would delight him too. When she faced him, and when she turned her back to assume the position.

But should she have claimed ownership of Lucy? She’d had his permission to see if Lucy wanted to be there when Sir took Maddie at last, for the first time, at his home after he’d caned both of them in his office. She hadn’t had his permission to claim Lucy as her… what? Her slave, really. So it seemed.

She hoped Sir would let her keep Lucy. She hoped that so hard. And she didn’t want him to be angry with her. She knew that if she owned Lucy, and he owned her, Maddie, then Sir owned Lucy anyway. And Lucy had seemed to find that was an exciting idea: being owned by both Sir and Maddie. She was happily exploring, too. 

Maddie frowned. She’d have to find some way of showing Sir that she’d done something good, even gracious. She hoped he’d see that she’d brought him a gift. Taking Lucy in her hands had been a presumptuous thing to do, but the moment had swept them along. She’d acted for the best, for all three of them.

Mlle Dupaurais said sharply, “Maddie! Faites attention!” Maddie started. The French mistress had a cutting tongue, and when she punished she used a rubber-soled slipper. It left severe marks, and Sir would not be pleased to find she hadn’t kept out of trouble.

Maddie looked at her, beseeching. “Je suis désolé, Mam’selle. J’ai eu une crampe. Je vais faire attention.” 

Mlle Dupaurias looked at Maddie. Her slipper was in the top drawer of her desk. “Assurez-vous de la faire. Or le directeur vous donnera des coups supplémentaires cet après-midi.”

Maddie blushed furiously. Did all her teachers know she was getting the cane this afternoon? Yes, she decided; yes, they would. She said, again, “Je suis désolé, Mam’selle.” 

Mlle Dupaurais gestured with one hand towards her desk drawer. Then she smiled ironically, and nodded, releasing Maddie from her gaze. The lesson continued. 

But now Maddie was focussed on more physical concerns. Her bottom still hurt from that morning’s caning. How would her second dozen feel? Could she take it? God, she hoped so. 

Note

I think I’ve run other pics from this caning, but not this one. The strokes really were for repeated academic essay-lateness, but that was at university level, and in a consenting bdsm context. Still, it’s exactly the sort of thing that was at the forefront of Maddie’s mind, by the end of her French class. 

The next episode is here.

Wicked Wednesday: A servant of two…

The previous episode is here.

 

My hand rested on Lucy’s cunt. [Said Maddie.] Then I did what Sir did to me; I slipped my finger inside her. She was so wet. And so slippery and tight; I’d never felt a girl’s cunt before, except for my own. Lucy’s head jerked back when I entered her, like she’d had an electric shock. 

She said, “Ohhh, god. Are you going to do me? Please do me.” She squirmed up against me.

I took a handful of her hair and pulled her head back, so she had to look at me. And slipped two more fingers inside her. She was looking down, but when she realised I wasn’t going to take my hand away till she came, she looked up into my eyes. She was begging: she wanted this as much as I did.

I said, “Yes, Lucy, I’m going to do you. But you have to be quiet when you come. Is that understood?”

“Oh! Yes, of course.” She looked at the door behind me. We didn’t know if anyone had walked into the library since we’d come into the storeroom. “I’ll be quiet.” 

“You’re not going to do me, today. I belong to Sir today. Only he gets to do me.” 

“Mmm.” 

“But afterwards, you’re going to do me whenever I tell you to, aren’t you?” Lucy blushed, and she looked down again. I could see she was smiling a little. I pushed all of my fingers into her, and drew them out slowly, while she shuddered, leaning against me. I said, “Aren’t you?” 

“Please. Please.”

I didn’t know what she meant. But I kissed her. I said, “Yes. You belong to me, now, Lucy.”

“Oh god.” She’d arched her ass out, and her breasts pressed against me, as I stroked her cunt. From the inside. Faster and faster.

“So, will you do me whenever I say?”

Lucy body shook. Her pretty face flamed red. “Yes, god yes, I will. Whenever.”

I felt so happy. Sir must feel the same way when I obey him. I stroked her cunt, faster still. Lucy couldn’t speak any more. I told her, “You belong to me. I own you. Like Sir owns me.”

Lucy’s raised her head, though I was sure she couldn’t see anything. Her whole body shook, as if she was having spasms. I thought she was going to scream, but she managed to remember my order to be silent. She bit the lapel of my blazer, and made a soft, crying noise through her nose. Her cunt squeezed on my fingers. Hard, then she relaxed and squeezed again. Then she sighed, my lapel falling, soppy, out of her mouth. I had to hold her up. My floppy dolly.

She lifted her face, to be kissed. That was going to be how it was, between us. I kissed my girl. My property. She put her arms around me. I put my hands, one still wet with her fluids, on her bare ass. Lucy looked at me. She whispered, “So. I belong to you. Are you mine?” 

I smiled at her. “No. You’re my property. I’m not yours. I tell you what to do. If you tried that on me, I’d…” I looked around the room, to see if there was something I could show her, that I could punish her with. “I’d spank you with that ruler, Lucy. Till you couldn’t sit down. Understood?” 

She smiled. That was the answer she’d hoped for. “Of course. Of course you would. I mean, you can.”

There was one more thing. I guessed she’d like this thought too. “I belong to Sir. You know that.”

“Of course.”

“Everything I own belongs to Sir.”

“Oh!” 

“Yes. That includes you. Sir will take you for his anyway. But if he doesn’t, then I’m going to give you to him.” 

“Maddie!” She was shocked. Not by being owned by Sir. It was that she thought I was rejecting her. Silly girl. I wanted to spank her then and there, for being so silly. But it would be too loud.  

“Oh, you’ll still be mine. You’ll just be his as well. I like having him own me. But you, you’re going to be the lucky girl. With two owners.” 

Lucy was silent. It was a lot to take in. Some of it I’d only worked out for myself in the last minute. She was thinking, imagining how this would be. But that secret smile, on her pretty pink face: that was still there. 

The next episode is here.