Spanking and after

With no one else in the airship corridor, Lucy paused to listen at the door of Edmund and Clarissa's stateroom.

A clink of glass.

"Drink." Edmund's voice.

Noises of awkward drinking, sipping, breathing.

A cough. "Ah." Clarissa's voice.

"Bend over again." Edmund.

"You bastard." Clarissa.

A rustle of skirts. A pause.

"This is what bad girls get." Edmund.

A slap of skin on skin.

"Ow, you bastard!"

"A spanking."

The slap was repeated and continued, picking up a steady rhythm. Clarissa's complaints softened, and soon she was reduced to grunts and ragged breathing.

The slapping halted.

"There." Edmund. "Yes, there, there."

A fluttery squishing sound.

"So wet. So ready." Edmund.

"Let me take my skirts off."

"No. Pull them up. Sit on my prick."

"What's got into you today, Edmund?"

"Sit."

A whimper from Clarissa. From Edmund, a sigh like sinking into a bath.

"Ah, lovely cunt. There, Clarissa, there. Now ride my prick. Ride."

Satisfied, Lucy rose from Edmund and Clarissa's door and walked to the women's lavatory at the end of the corridor.

As Lucy returned down the corridor toward the dining lounge, she heard Clarissa's voice rise in a shuddering sigh, followed by a groan from Edmund.

Lucy smiled. If Edmund kept Clarissa well covered, Clarissa would be less likely to come between her and Edmund. With luck maybe Sabrina would have a new baby brother, and Edmund and Clarissa would have an heir for Old Netherwood. To everyone's relief, Lucy was sure.