Wicked Wednesday: A Vibrant, Silent, Presence

Maddie had just asked me for permission to give Claire another spanking. I considered asking Claire her opinion on that. I expected Claire would be beautifully, blushingly confused about whether that would be a wonderful thing or a terrible thing. But there was plenty of time to explore Maddie’s obvious attraction to Claire.

Claire’s attitude was less obvious. She found Maddie’s interest flattering, and flustering. Time would tell. I said, “Sorry, Maddie, Claire’s been a good girl for, oh, minutes at a time now. So no, you can’t. But if that changes, of course I’ll allow you.”

 “Sir.” Maddie straightened up. She wanted to be obedient and winsome. And she wanted to compete, sexually, with poor Claire.

I said, “You’re a good girl, Maddie. And I know… Maddie, I know how good you’ve just been, for Claire and for me, and I’m very grateful. And I will reward you for that. But later. For now, girl, off you go. You can give Claire a kiss. But then back to your office, Maddie.”

Maddie’s kiss included a comforting squeeze to Claire’s poor caned bottom, and the two women looked at each other for a moment.

Then Maddie kissed Claire’s forehead and was gone, back into her office.

I said, “Claire. Nose to the wall. I’m working now.”

“Yes, Master.” It was always a safe thing to say, she’d learned.

“If I hear a peep out of you, or your nose leaves the wall, I’ll cane you again. Hard. Understood, girl?”

“I understand, Master.”

I grunted, as if her acquiescence meant nothing. It meant the world, of course, but she wasn’t to be allowed to think that. I busied myself with an appeal to school alumni, for repairs to the swimming pool and a new high-dive pool. And an extra couple of rooms to the library.

Claire, naked, shamed and caned, butt-plug winking crimson between her striped buttocks, stayed in position, hands on head.

I pretended to ignore her, though she was beautiful, and her submission and the welts across her ass meant she was a vibrant sexual presence. The clicking of my keyboard was a sign that she was not important, just a shamed submissive waiting for the next part of her sentence to be pronounced.

Eventually I opened a new document and scrawled in it irrelevantly, just to make the sound of a keyboard while I studied her.

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