Miss Charlotte shrieked, and screamed, from the first cut of the cane. Caroline looked at Mr. Vance, who stood leaning against the mantle-piece, and saw a smile on his face as he nodded at each stroke his girl got from Sir Gerald. She thought about his pestle-thing… his cock… and suddenly she had an urge to go and kneel before him and ask to learn how to be a good cocksucker. Only her grip on Miss Charlotte's hands, and the responsibility she felt to comfort her as Mr. Vance had told her to, seemed to prevent the wicked thing from happening.
The caning went on forever, it seemed to Caroline, as she had to change sides, and with each dozen it seemed that her strange urges only grew and multiplied. At last, though, it ended, and Mr. Vance told Caroline to go get the salve from Miss Anne's and Miss Charlotte's room.
When she had brought it down, Sir Gerald and Mr. Vance watched while Caroline applied it to the bottoms of the well-punished girls.
"Are you sure that's wise?" Sir Gerald had asked, in his usual ready-to-be-persuaded style.
"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Vance, and so Caroline, panting with the excitement that had by this time made her thighs damp with the wetness of her little cleft, rubbed the pretty bottoms, thoroughly and agonzingly chastised now, with the oily balsam. Miss Anne and Miss Charlotte made noises that fell somewhere between sobs and moans, and each of them said, more than once, "Oh, Caroline, please."
Caroline could tell, though of course she knew she mustn't say anything of it, that the feeling she evoked with her soothing touch, must have an element in it that gave Miss Anne and Miss Charlotte a pleasure far beyond the simple relief from the pain of their cane-weals. She wondered if she could see the same wetness glistening by the lamplight upon the thighs of Miss Charlotte that she knew would glisten upon her own, if she should be similarly positioned.
That thought, to her distress, led to imagining what it would be like to be the third girl with her face in the cushion, and of what might happen then. So it was a relief when Sir Gerald at last said, "You may go, child. And remain in your bed, if you please. None of your stealing about, do you hear me?"
"Yes, sir," Caroline said, and left the parlor. But to her shame she could not forbear standing outside the parlor door after she had closed it, and crouching down to look in at the keyhole. What she saw, though, made her face so hot and her breathing so labored that she ran up the stairs on the instant: Sir Gerald and Mr. Vance, their trousers down and their cocks out, standing with bent knees behind their girls' bottoms, bringing the cocks ever closer, as if to… what? When Caroline lay snug in her bed, she instantly regretted the decision not to stay, and see. Her little cleft burned between her thighs, and no amount of squeezing seemed to help. Suddenly she didn't care how nasty Dr. Brown would be: she would make him tell her how to get Sir Gerald and Mr. Vance to use their cocks upon her.
The working title is The Innocent Observer.
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