Wicked Wednesday: With a breadknife?

Jennifer had just responded to my warning on language by asking me to fuck her up the arse. It hadn’t been an entirely ladylike way to speak. Heartfelt, though.

I couldn’t help laughing, though she’d also shocked me. “May as well get the strap for a sheep as for a lamb, huh? All right, you’re coming here, not tomorrow but the next day, and you’re going to get the strap hard across your hands, and your bottom.”  

“Thank you, sir.”

“My god. I had no idea you were such a handful. And yes, Jennifer, I would love to teach you to… suck my cock. Among other things. Many other things. But how about we wait a bit, girl? Get to know each other better. And then we’ll decide, all right?”

“I’ve decided, sir. I’m not going to change my mind. I know what I want.”

“All right. You’re coming here to get the strap, after school in two days’ time. You will bring with you an essay on today’s punishment. Think of it as creative writing, but you have to tell the truth. I expect two thousand words. You’ve got two days.” I smacked her bottom again, and then kissed her pouting mouth.

She kissed me back. “I just wish you’d…” But she decided she was in enough trouble.

“We’ll see, Jennifer. To have any chance, you’d best be a good girl. Well, for a while. As much as you can.” Her face fell. “I’m sorry. I was teasing you. You are a very good girl, and I know you try hard.”

“You’re giving me the strap, just for saying I want you.” I smacked her bottom again, but she added, “Want you in me, nice and slow, sir. Then hard and rough and fast.”

“Jennifer, sometimes your steak of mischief will get you into trouble. Another time I might cane you for saying something like that.” She nodded, wide-eyed. “But don’t ever think I don’t like your cheekiness. It’s part of you: I’ll punish you when you go too far, but I’d never want you to lose your mischief. I think it’s very charming.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“That said, your strapping is going to include four across the backs of your thighs, now.” 

“I must be what they call blissed out, sir. I’m sure I’ll be scared when I come to you, to get the strap. But right now, in your arms, sir, everything just feels lovely. You could say you’re going to saw my arm off with a breadknife, and I’d think, oh, that sounds nice.”

I smacked her again, and kissed her. But it was a goodbye kiss. “Off with you, girl. You can get dressed now. And remember, you’ve got two days to write a two-thousand word essay, so you’d best get started as soon as you get home.”

“Can I include this discussion, sir? And what I’m feeling now?”

“Whatever you like. I’ll be marking it for clear, grammatically correct writing. You get points for style. I punish for typos, grammatical errors, and untruth. So… get writing!”

“Sir!” That was an acknowledgement of the order, not the beginning of fresh mischief. She almost fell, getting off my knee, and Maddie darted forward to steady her and lead her over to the clothes rack. 

Two minutes later Jennifer was gone. Maddie looked at me questioningly.

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