Wicked Wednesday: Hands and knees

I’d asked Jennifer if she was working her way back to being a good girl. Jennifer took nearly twenty seconds to respond. Her head shook, but she decided to keep her nose to the corner. “Yes, sir, I hope so.”

I smiled at Maddie, almost awed at Jennifer’s complicity. Maddie grinned. She knew what that had cost Jennifer, and how happy it had made me. She said, “But she’s not quite a good girl yet, is she?”

“No, not quite. She has a little way to go. I’m sure you’ll hear some more crying shortly. But she’ll be fine.” Jennifer made another little sound in her throat. She was shaking now, and about to cry again.

“If you need me to hold her down…”

“Oh, I think Jennifer knows better than to try to get up. Don’t you, Jennifer?”

There was a longer gap. And there were sobs again. At last she said, with phlegm in her voice, “Yes, sir. I will be good. You know that.”

Maddie and I exchanged smiles. Maddie had caught some of my admiration for this girl. She said, “I’ll hunt out that draft. Do I bring it in even if you’re dealing with Jennifer?”

That seemed a powerfully erotic possibility. A confrontation between the two of them while Jennifer was under the intimacy of discipline. But I said, “No, I think we’ll allow Jennifer some privacy while she’s finishing her punishment. I’ll send for you when I’ve finished.”

Another muffled sound from Jennifer. The tears were coursing down her cheeks again. I stood up. “”Jennifer.”

“Sir?”

“Come here. And Maddie, that’s all for now.” But Maddie watched poor scarlet-bottomed, scarlet-faced Jennifer get up and totter towards me. When I’d caught Jennifer in my arms and embraced her she left.

Jennifer, in my arms, looked up at me. “Sir. I try to be a good girl. I know I deserve punishment. And I know I need… direction.” I brushed the tears from her cheeks with my right hand.

I smiled at her. She tried to smile back, but she was a sad, spanked, humiliated girl. “But it’s so much. It’s so new for me. What… What’s next, sir?”

I put my hand on her poor blazing bottom, and let my fingers press low, between her buttocks, nearly – almost – touching her pussy. I held her tight, and kissed her forehead.  She buried her head in the crook of my right arm, and relaxed there. We both wanted more than we could give each other at that moment. Waiting was hard, for both of us, but it was good, too. I kissed her forehead again and she moaned, but it was a far, far happier sound.

“Do you see the cupboard behind my desk?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want you to go to it now, and open it. You’ll see a lot of things designed for naughty girls like you: canes, paddles, straps and more.”

“Sir?”

“Just a moment.” I made her take a step back, and undid the two bottom buttons of her school blouse. I pulled the tails to the front and tied them, above her hipbones, so they couldn’t come down and interrupt what was to come.

“Now, Jennifer, go to the cupboard. You’ll see it’s full of what are called instruments of discipline.” She nodded, awed. “You’ll get to know most of the things in there, and what they’re for, over the next year or so. But I want you to find the slipper. A man’s slipper. It’s an old one of mine, actually. It’s got a plaid pattern, and a rubber sole. Fetch that, and bring it to me.”

Jennifer turned to the cupboard. I smacked her bottom sharply, and she yelped, putting her hands where I’d smacked. “No, girl, you don’t walk. On your hands and knees, Jennifer.” I smacked her poor sensitive bottom again, getting another yelp. “Go!” 

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