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Chapter Text

On the day that marked the 18th anniversary of her birth, Wednesday tried not to outwardly squirm as she was forced to endure the sickening public display of overt affection before her. As if facing her doom wasn't enough, she also had to endure the raucous caterwauling of the two love-blind twits she called parents, who were seated across the cab from her in the family hearse.

“Enough!” She snapped, succeeding in breaking the moment of mutual rapture as her mother turned to her with an exquisitely arched brow. Her father leaned towards her.

“My little viper. I promise, you're going to love Nevermore. Won't she Tish?”

“Of course. It's the perfect academy for her," rejoined her mother, a dreamy reminiscence in her eyes. 

“Why? Because it was the perfect academy for you? I have no interest in following your footsteps. Becoming captain of the fencing team? Dorm representative? Head prefect?”

“I merely meant you'll finally be among those that understand you. You might even make some friends or form a relationship? Maybe find a place in the social structure?” Morticia looked to Gomez to back her up. Inevitably, he took the cue immediately. 

“Nevermore is a magical place. It's where I first laid eyes on your mother... and we fell in love...” he simpered, gazing into his wife's dark eyes.

“You two are making me nauseous. Not in a good way.”

Morticia quickly recognised the veiled emotion that was driving the bratty behaviour. Her raven was nervous and taking it out on her nearest and dearest. 

“Darling, we aren't the ones that got you arrested. Those boys’ parents were pushing for attempted murder. You're lucky they kept it to aggravated assault and that the judge agreed to try you as a minor. And you're incredibly lucky that Larissa was willing to accept you into this term. This is the only option you have to avoid a jail sentence.”

“Sure feels like punitive incarceration,” murmured Wednesday.

“Oh darling, you have no idea,” her mother smirked, obliquely.  

Soon after, Wednesday found herself sandwiched between her parents on a cosy loveseat. In front of her, behind an enormous desk, sat an equally enormous woman. Strangely, she was wearing a long cream, woollen coat, despite the heat emanating from the roaring fireplace. Her cream coat matched her platinum-blonde coiffure, and the cream leather stiletto pumps that had clicked ominously on the tiled floor of the school entranceway as she greeted them. Her lips were cherry red, making them and her dark gold eyes the only bits of colour that popped from her cream ensemble and milky skin. 

“Morticia, Gomez. How delightful to see you again. And you must be Wednesday.” She levelled a warm smile, but her eyes had a distinct glint to them, like she was matching the stare of a challenger. Intriguing.

“As I'm sure you have no doubt worked out, I'm Larissa Weems, Head Mistress here at Nevermore Academy. I must say, we wouldn't usually allow a new starter mid-term, but a spot opened up, and of course I would do anything to accommodate my dear roommate.” She looked back to Morticia, and Wednesday wasn't sure if she imagined the predatory gleam in the blonde giantess’ eyes. 

“You were roommates. And you survived her with your sanity intact? Impressive,” she quipped mirthlessly.

“Oh Wednesday, I think you'll find that she survived me!” laughed the principal airily.

Wednesday quickly shot a questioning glance to her mother, only to see that she was looking purposefully at the floor, cheeks coloured with a high flush. She'd never seen her mother defer to anyone before. Curiouser and curiouser.

Gomez cleared his throat. “Dear Larissa, I assume you've read the judge's notes on the remedial behaviour therapy that Wednesday needs to complete. I fear that without it there is no chance she will avoid a prison sentence.”

“Of course, Gomez, dear. I shall be overseeing the sessions myself. I hope you'll both agree that I'm more than qualified.”

“Of course! A wonderful solution! I think Wednesday will learn much at your hands! Thank you!”

“Not at all.” The woman smiled benevolently before leaning towards Wednesday. “Now, let's show you your dorm and then you can really start to settle in, hmm?”

The room was a riot of colour. Multicoloured lights twinkled around the deeply gothic interior and brightly hued fabrics bedecked the left half of the room. Even the impressive spider-webbed rose window had been pasted over with coloured film. It was hideous. And at the centre of it all, a perky blonde was vibrating, dressed in the purple stripes of the uniform Wednesday had noted as she moved through the school. 

“Enid, this is your new roommate, Wednesday. You may greet her.”

“Howdy roomie!” Squealed the girl, bouncing over to her with open arms. Wednesday recoiled fractionally.

“Ah, not a hugger. Got it.” Enid stepped back and lowered her arms, quirking a grin instead. 

“Wednesday takes time to feel comfortable around new people,” Morticia explained sympathetically. Major understatement. “Plus, she has an aversion to bright colours.”

“Which is why we have prepared her a special uniform,” cut in Weems. “Enid, take Wednesday down to the registrar to pick it up. And give her the freshman's tour while you're at it.”

“Yes, Head Mistress,” the blonde nodded her head respectfully before gesturing to Wednesday to lead her out. Such obsequious behaviour left a bad taste in her mouth. Pathetic!

Enid led her down through the campus, pointing out various facilities through the school. She seemed to be fairly slapdash in her approach, though, leaving entire wings and hallways completely unexplained. Wednesday didn't press her. She'd work it out quickly enough. 

“So, since you missed most of the first term, you're naturally going to be bottom of the class. It's no big deal though. If you work hard and do as you're told you'll quickly move up and work out your role here,” Enid advised.

“I doubt I'll find the syllabus here a challenge. Don't worry on my account. And as for my role, I think I know exactly how I fit in. Or not.”

“Oh? Have you had a lot of experience elsewhere?” asked the blonde with open curiosity.

“I've gone through a number of systems over the years. Each worse than the last. I can't imagine this place is any different.”

“Hmm. Well, you might want to keep an open mind. Head Mistress Weems prides herself on making sure we know and accept our place. It might feel odd at first, but the sooner you open yourself up, the easier it is and the happier you'll be.”

“I assure you, happiness is not something I expect to find here,” responded Wednesday flatly.

“Oh. Suit yourself. Anyway, here's the registrar's.”

A few minutes later, Wednesday had a thick black binder entitled ‘Nevermore Academy Student's Handbook and Code of Conduct’, a laminated class schedule and map, and a bag containing her uniform. She vowed to herself she wouldn't read the binder, but she enjoyed the heft of it, imagining it might come in useful as an improvised weapon. 

Enid continued to talk her through a tour back to their dorm, where they found Wednesday's parents and Head Mistress Weems apparently reminiscing about their time together at the academy. 

“Ah, excellent timing,” smiled the towering woman. “Wednesday, I shall just have your parents sign the paperwork in my office. In the meantime, why don't you get into your uniform, and then you can meet them at the front of the school to say your goodbyes.” She waited, watching Wednesday expectantly. After a few moments she obviously realised Wednesday was not going to respond. That challenging gleam shone briefly in her eye and she smiled slightly, before turning to usher Gomez and Morticia from the room. 

As the door shut, Enid cleared her throat awkwardly. “So you got away with it because you're new, but you're gonna want to get used to answering her pretty quick. She won't let you get away with it next time.”

“That isn't going to happen. I have no reason to respect her. If that changes, I might change my mind.”

“OK. Your funeral,” responded Enid quietly. 

“If only I could be so lucky.” muttered Wednesday, tipping her new uniform onto the bed. Where the other students had black and purple stripes, hers were black and grey. She looked around quickly before realising that there was no privacy from Enid in the room. 

“Where am I supposed to change?” she asked, somewhat confused. 

“For phys ed? There are locker rooms...”

“No. Where am I supposed to change my clothes? Where is the bathroom?”

“Oh. It's down the hall. But you get changed in here. There isn't any storage in the bathrooms or anything, so we all change in our rooms.”

“Where?” 

“There? It doesn't really matter. As long as you leave everything tidy.”

“Ugh! I can't believe I'm having this conversation! I mean, where can I change that you aren't? In private?”

“Oh! Sorry. I guess I wasn't... Look, you don't need to be ashamed. We're gonna see each other naked a lot. We're roommates and classmates – it's unavoidable. You might as well get it over it now. It will be a lot easier. Trust me.”

“Ugh! Fine!” Grumpily Wednesday stripped to her underwear, plain black cotton panties and a black frilly but basic bra. Her roommate didn't seem to pay much mind, only glancing up from her phone every now and then. She pulled the uniform to her. It was more intricate than she imagined. 

There was a tiny petticoat that sat around her waist to fluff out her skirt, but it was extremely short in the front, not even covering her pantie waistband. The back was only marginally longer, sitting halfway up her buttocks. There was a pair of suspenders hanging down each leg, presumably for her stockings. The skirt itself was quite conservative, falling just below her knees. Underneath, the stockings rose to her mid thigh. She clipped the snaps on, noting that the ensemble left her feeling decidedly chilly on the upper thigh. 

She pulled out her blouse, only to do a double take. Either someone was having a joke at her expense, or there was an error. The blouse, while normal width and with full sleeves, only fell a few inches below her shoulders. If she put it on it would stop above her breasts. 

“Enid. My blouse is defective.”

“Hmm? Where? Is there a loose thread? I once had one with button holes on both sides. No buttons.”

“No. Look. It's clearly much shorter than it should be.”

“That's probably because you're short. It looks right to me.”

Sighing in exasperation, Wednesday pulled the garment on turning to show her dull witted roommate. 

“Look!” Her bra was the only thing keeping her modest. 

“Perfect!” Enid applauded. “Once you ditch the bra it'll look great!”

Wednesday gaped at her. “What?”

“Yeah, no. It fits really well. Whoever took your measurements did a great job!”

“My bra?”

“Hmmm? Oh yeah. You can't wear it. That's something you have to earn the right to. And you know, you're the bottom of the class, remember? So no panties either.”

“What?” Wednesday spluttered, uncharacteristically lost for words. 

“No. But it's normal. Most of us won't get underwear privileges until next year. Look.” At that, Enid lifted her sweater vest, showing Wednesday her pale, shapely breasts and rosy pink nipples before casually dropping it again. 

Wednesday blinked several times before hurriedly throwing on her own sweater vest, and her blazer – feeling the need for protective layers – before slamming her feet back into her shoes and sprinting downstairs. Breathing hard, she burst out of the front door and looked around before running over to her parents. 

“Mother! I don't know what you thought this was, but this isn't the same academy you went to! I can't stay here!” She looked pleadingly up into her mother's bewildered gaze.

“Darling. What's this about?”

“The uniform, mother! It's perverted!” She exclaimed, looking uncomfortably to her father, who took her hint and moved away allowing them some privacy. Taking a breath, Wednesday explained. “The blouse doesn't cover anything! And I'm not meant to wear any underwear! This is clearly some sort of perverse cult. I can't stay here!”

“Oh, my dark little angel! And here was me thinking there was something nefarious afoot! But I can assure you, that's the exact uniform I wore at your age. And it suits you, marvellously!”

“What?” Wednesday was starting to feel stupid, with the amount of times she'd responded this way, but the bizarre situation she found herself in was beyond her comprehension. 

“My darling. I'm sorry, but this is what you need. You're so brilliant, so gifted, but time again you stand in your own way. You need to learn to get out of it. But that's what Nevermore does. It breaks down your preconceptions about yourself and your peers, and allows you to grow into something more complete. The sooner you embrace it, the sooner that can happen and the happier you'll be. And really, you have no other option. It's this or prison. And while you'd thrive there, it would deny you the opportunity to become everything you should be.”

“Mother... I... please don't make me stay here. I can't do this!”

“Mi tormenta,” Gomez approached from behind. “If we thought that was true, we would never have brought you here. But know this, you are the strongest of all of us. And look how it worked out for your mother and I. If you can find half the happiness here that we did, you will find it worthwhile. You can do this, my little viper.” He pressed his forehead to hers and planted a firm kiss before climbing onto the car. 

“Your father is right. You're exactly where you need to be, darkling. But know that we are only a crystal ball away. If you need us, reach out. The first week will be the hardest, my love. We're not allowed any contact while you settle in. After that, we'll see. It will be down to you and how you choose to act. Be brave, my darling girl. But do not be foolish. Learn which battles to fight, and which to surrender. I love you so much. Make me proud.” She smiled down at her eldest, pressing a kiss to her fingertips before ghosting it along her daughter's cheek and stepping gracefully back to enter the car. 

Wednesday watched as everything she had ever known drove down the long driveway. Standing still until the car was out of sight and even beyond. 

Eventually she turned, drifting up the long stairs to her dorm, where she ignored Enid's greeting, instead moving straight to her unmade bed where she sat against the headboard, arms curled around her legs, and resolutely did not cry.

Chapter Text

Wednesday awoke to the sound of her roommate moving around noisily. Rolling over, she didn't snap at the girl, as Enid had graciously let Wednesday sulk for a decent amount of time before offering to help her make up her bed. She'd done so wordlessly, seeming to recognise that her new roommate was in no mood to engage in conversation. Wednesday had simply kicked off her skirt and removed her blazer before crawling into bed and falling into an exhausted sleep. 

It was Sunday. No classes were scheduled, but Wednesday was due to meet Head Mistress Weems after breakfast for the first of her remedial behaviour sessions. She was dreading it. Originally she'd assumed it would be another pointless round of therapy, but the fact the principal herself was leading now made her question that. 

Surprisingly she saw that despite the free day, Enid was dressed in her uniform. “Have you lost track of days? You have no classes. Shouldn't you be wearing some obnoxiously colourful ensemble?”

“Good morning, grumpy! The Head Mistress asked me to accompany you to your session this morning. It's usually easier just to go in uniform if you get called for extra curricular.”

Wednesday hummed, annoyed that she seemingly had a chaperone for the morning. Moving to get up, she checked her bedside clock and saw it was still reasonably early. She determined she'd wash and eat before facing whatever her future held. 

Moving to her trunk as she had not taken time to unpack last night, she opened it to find the contents were not as she had packed them. In fact, they were almost entirely absent. All of her clothes had vanished leaving just the few knick knacks she'd packed. 

“Enid. Where are my belongings?”

“What? Oh. Privileges. They probably confiscated them before bringing up your luggage. I told you yesterday that you had to earn privileges. Clothes are a privilege. It's fine though. They're usually one of the first they give back. Even as bottom of the class you'll probably get them back pretty quickly.”

Wednesday moved swiftly to her wardrobe. Wrenching it open she saw several of the ridiculous blouses and spare skirts, vests and another blazer. A shelf held several pairs of stockings and a spare garter belt/ petticoat. Nothing else. 

She turned to her roommate with a questioning glare.

“What is this place? How can they do this?”

“Are you kidding? You don't know? This is the most exclusive academy in the country. You'll find Nevermore Alumni in almost every government in the free world. Not to mention the United Nations, NATO; all the big humanitarian orgs. Nevermore builds world leaders. People would literally die to get their kids a place here!”

“But it's perverse! How can anyone be taken seriously without underwear?”

“Yeah, you might want to run that through your head again. You see how absurd it is that you could only listen to someone with the right clothes on? Nevermore strips away all the stuff that doesn't matter, so we can focus on what does. If you can command a room with no clothes on, how is a room full of suits gonna stop you?”

Wednesday just blinked. Once again she felt her worldview turned on its head – an increasingly familiar experience over the last twelve hours. 

Enid looked at her quizzically. “How are you even here if you don't know anything about Nevermore? No disrespect, but there are loads of people who actually want to be here, but you seem like you can't wait to leave.”

Wednesday looked down, finding herself feeling oddly guilty at her lack of grace. 

“I don't have any other option,” she muttered. “If I wasn't here, I'd be in a state penitentiary.”

“WHAT! Oh my god, of course I have room with a criminal! What did you do!?”

“Something entirely warranted, I assure you.”

“Am I in danger?”

“Only if you wrong those I care about.” Wednesday levelled a hard look at her roommate.

“Fuck. Ok. Noted. But how did that end you up here?”

“My parents both came here. It's where they met.”

“OK. That makes more sense. Legacy trust fund wild-child. Yeah, you're gonna find this a struggle.” Enid tapped her chin thoughtfully.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Again, no disrespect, but I'm guessing you've got it pretty comfortable at home. Loving parents, close family, yadda yadda. And despite that you're the black sheep. The misfit. The outcast. Hence the legal trouble. To be honest, that's about a third of the students here. And they're the ones that have the hardest time adjusting. They stay bottom of the class, act out and ultimately drop out. Or, they get over themselves and realise that the world is not out to get them; they just expected more from it than anyone else. So, please, don't take this the wrong way, but let go of all the chips on your shoulder. They're only gonna drag you down.”

“Gosh. You have me all figured out,” Wednesday sniped bitterly before turning away. “I'm going to shower. Will you need to escort me for that?”

“No. But I wasn't kidding yesterday. There isn't anywhere to put your stuff. You take your clothes; they get wet. This is an all girls dorm. We all just walk to the shower ready to get in it.”

Wednesday flushed, finding the idea excruciating, but ultimately recognised that Enid was sparing her from making a fool of herself. Or she had better be. Quickly she stripped off, grabbing her shower kit and slipping out into the hall. 

It being a Sunday, she didn't see any of her dorm mates, presuming they were all making the most of the rest day. However, as she pushed open the door to the showers, she was confronted by two girls very intimately washing one another. Momentarily frozen, she stood in the doorway until one of the girls, a beautiful brown haired girl with startling blue eyes, looked over. 

“You're letting all the cold air in. Are you just gonna stand there?”

Flushing, she walked into the open shower area, letting the door close behind her. As Enid said, it was just a shower room with multiple heads fixed to the walls. No benches or lockers, and no stalls. On the wall by the door were several freshly laundered white towels on hooks, ready to be used. Wednesday moved to the opposite wall from the two other occupants, turning away and fumbling with the tap.

“So you're the new girl.” The same voice called over. “I'm Divina. This is Yoko.”

Wednesday glanced over her shoulder. The other girl, her eastern Asian heritage apparent in her jet black, straight hair and beautiful golden skin tone, waved. She nodded. “Wednesday,” she offered, before returning to her ablutions. 

The two continued enjoying their mutual cleansing, until Wednesday was reaching around to soap her back. 

“Do you want a hand?” Divina asked. 

“Um. No. Thank you.” Wednesday stammered, less than graceful. 

“OK.” With that the two left, each grabbing a towel and wiping off the majority of the moisture from themselves before wrapping the other's hair with slight giggles and leaving, not bothering to cover their naked flesh in any way. At least Enid had spared her from arriving in clothes. Somehow, Wednesday felt that would have been more embarrassing. Finishing her own wash, she mimicked the others, drying off and wrapping her hair before hastening back to the dorm. 

When she arrived, Enid was reclining on her bed, and looked over as she shut the door. “I didn't know if you wanted to get breakfast together. So I waited. But I'll go down now if you're skipping it.”

“I'll come. Give me a moment.”

“Sure.”

Drying off, Wednesday quickly towelled off the water from her hair before fastening it back into tight braids. She pulled her uniform on, opting to forgo the underwear. For one thing, it was dirty from yesterday. For another, at least this way she still had one set. Wearing it would risk it being confiscated. Carefully, she folded the items down small and tucked them in her trunk, trying to mask her actions from Enid. 

“There's a washing hamper for dirties by the door.” OK, not fooling her. “I mean, you can keep them, but the Head Mistress will likely just come and get them if you don't hand them in. The more you make her do, the less likely you are to get privileges.”

Reluctantly, she dropped the garments into the hamper with the towel. Finally, she stepped over to the full length mirror and looked at herself appraisingly. It wasn't visibly apparent that she was without underwear. The skirt fell to her knees, and the petticoat on the garter held the fabric away from her crotch and bum. Really, apart from the fact the chill made her nipples peak against the soft cashmere sweater vest, the Nevermore uniform looked remarkably like any other private school ensemble. Although the feeling of cool air between her legs wasn't something she was likely to get used to quickly.

Finally she stepped over to her shoes, before Enid piped up again. “Oh, your school shoes are by the dorm door. No shoes inside usually. Don't worry, they maintain the floors. No splinters.” Wednesday looked at her from under her fringe, feeling somewhat lost. Enid smiled kindly. “Shall we go to breakfast?” Wednesday nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Great! Oh! The Head Mistress said to bring your Handbook.”

Sighing, she stepped back to her desk, grabbed the heavy binder and headed out the door behind Enid. 

“Ah, girls. Come in.”

Weems opened the door in a cream bodice, a pair of cream, heeled, thigh-high boots and little else - a band of pale flesh stretched from the top of the boots to the gusset of the corset. An open bolero jacket covered her shoulders, leaving the top of her breasts and cleavage on show. Despite the startling amount of skin on show, the woman looked like she meant business. Wednesday thought back to Enid's comment on the uniform and begrudgingly acknowledged she might have a point. 

Enid walked primly across the office and went to stand in front of the desk, the heels of her patent black Mary Janes clicking sharply on the tiled floor. She waited with her hands crossed behind her back and legs spread hip width apart, her back straight and her gaze looking firmly ahead. Wednesday followed, holding herself stiffly as was her custom, arms crossed to grasp the binder in front of her. 

“I hope you're settling in alright, Wednesday?” Asked Weems, rounding her desk and unfurling into the sumptuous warm beige leather of her supersized chair. 

“I would have preferred to know about the uniform requirements in advance.”

Enid shot a look out the corner of her eye but remained motionless.

“Ah. Well. I suppose I thought you'd be better informed, given both of your parents are alumni.”

“I'm afraid they never got much further than describing the multitude of ways they fell deeper into love. I'm sure you know how they are.”

Weems chuckled darkly. “Only too well, I'm afraid. Now, Wednesday, pleasantries aside. You've come to us under unfortunate circumstances. I do hope you don't mind Enid being party to this discussion, but I rather think you're going to need help to catch up. It's partly why I paired you up.”

“With all due respect, Ms Weems, I think you'll find my educational records to be exceptional. I have no concerns about missing the entry work.”

“Indeed. For that reason I won't make you repeat that work. But do know that if you find yourself to be in need of catch up sessions, your tutors will be only too pleased to accommodate you. No; your academic qualifications are not in doubt. 

“The bigger issue, as I see it, is your behaviour. The court papers I received have made it quite clear that the judge expects to see nothing short of a complete reformation. You've got until the end of this school year to demonstrate notable progress. You're to be independently assessed by the court on the last day of term. Failure to impress will result in you serving your suspended sentence. The time spent at this academy will not be counted towards that sentence. I believe you were given four years?” Wednesday nodded, prompting Weems to continue. 

“If, however, you are able to demonstrate significant growth of character, you will be able to stay at the academy for a further two years to complete your education and graduate. Upon your graduation your sentence will be lifted. 

“Let me be most clear, Wednesday. I will do everything in my power to help you achieve the second outcome, but ultimately your fate lies in your own hands. The change the judge wishes to see can only come from you. 

“I have no doubt that you are going to find this extraordinarily challenging. And so, it is incredibly important that you are the one that decides to undertake this journey. However, I now appreciate that your knowledge of our curriculum is considerably less than I had imagined, and this is not a decision you should be forced to make without understanding what it is you’re signing up to.”

She turned to Enid. “Enid. Over my knee.”

“Yes, Head Mistress.”

Wednesday watched uncertainly as Enid moved around the desk. Weems pushed her chair out before setting both her feet on the floor. Enid immediately lifted the back of her skirt up, exposing her naked bottom before curving herself over Weems legs, allowing the skirt to flop over her back. She grasped her arms together behind her back, each hand grasping the other forearm. Wednesday furrowed her brow, once again feeling events spiralling beyond her comprehension. 

“Enid. What have you done to warrant punishment?”

“I- I looked at Wednesday while she was speaking, Head Mistress.”

“And why was that wrong, Enid?”

“I should have been focusing on you, Head Mistress.”

“Very good. And what would you like me to do about it?”

“I would like you to punish me, please, Head Mistress.”

“Excellent. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Head Mistress.”

At that, Weems raised her hands high before bringing it down with a sharp crack onto Enid's exposed flesh. 

Enid gasped a little, before saying tightly, “One. Thank you, Head Mistress.”

Another strike in the same place made this gasp a little louder. “Two. Thank you, Head Mistress.” Wednesday could see the red handprint already brightening the pale cheek. She watched in morbid fascination as her roommate submitted without complaint to a punishment she had invited upon herself. 

Weems struck Enid a further four times, totalling three slaps on each cheek. Enid counted each one, dutifully thanking the principal after each strike. The fifth strike had her choke out a little moan as tears pooled from her eyes to stream down her cheeks. 

After the sixth spank, Weems stroked over the glowing handprints, shushing gently. 

“Well done, pet. Such a good girl, taking my punishment so prettily. I think it only fair you have a reward, hmm?”

“Thank you, Head Mistress.” The other girl smiled cheerfully, despite the tear tracks on her face. 

“Good girl, go and sit on the settee. We'll see to your reward when we're done.”

“Yes, Head Mistress.” Enid stood up, her skirt falling back over her blazing bum cheeks. She quickly wiped her eyes before heading over to sit on the sofa, taking a moment to fluff a cushion before settling onto her tender seat. 

Weems pulled her chair in, turning back to level Wednesday with a serious gaze. 

“As you can see, the corrective measures we take here are somewhat tougher than exclusions and detentions. Of course, those measures have their place, but we find a quick, sharp correction is much more impactful than oblique actions selected by committee.

“However, I need to be quite clear; Enid has consented in writing and verbally to all the actions you've witnessed. Furthermore, she has the ability to revoke that consent at any time, and no corrective actions, or rewards, are ever taken without a verbal check in with the recipient. That is the nature of the contract between this academy and each of its students. 

“If you are still willing to entertain the notion of completing your education here, I will give you the next two hours to read through the Handbook and the contract. Should you choose to sign it, your education will begin thereafter. If you choose not to continue here, I will contact your parents and, unfortunately, the authorities to take you to complete your suspended sentence. 

“Please note, Wednesday, that I am not forcing this choice on you. It is your own actions that have led you to this path. I hope you can recognise this for the opportunity it is.”

Wednesday spent the next two hours reviewing the Handbook at a small table and chair in the corner of the Head Mistress’ office. Weems had also given her the contract, though no pen to sign it. 

The Handbook was just that; a reference guide for the student. It covered everything from mundanities such as meal times, laundry schedules and infirmary access to a list of punishments and rewards. An asterisk at the bottom denoted the educator’s power to improvise punishments and rewards, though never without the express consent of the student. 

The punishments were varied, and included normal school measures, like restriction of leisure activities, lines and detention alongside corporal punishments, such as the spanking Wednesday had witnessed, and revocation of privileges; permanent marking was forbidden, including scars. Other punishments included restrictions on freedoms (both literal and figurative) and loss of privileges. Punishments could be delivered publicly or privately at the whim of the educator, the key point being that corrective measures were to be delivered promptly. Wednesday also discovered that the bare minimum she was granted was not the base level of privileges. Apparently, she still had plenty to lose...

Rewards were most often the bestowing of privileges. However they could also be one-off perks or treats. Privileges were essentially personal comforts or additional freedoms, granting extra permissions to students for appropriate behaviour. One of the privileges students could earn was the ability to reward or punish other students, with varying degrees of autonomy.

The most salient points in the contract and Handbook rested with the fact that Nevermore was an academy, and not a high school. That meant that every student was 18 years or older. For Wednesday, this meant she was the youngest, a full academic year below her peers; fortunate that her birthday fell late enough in the calendar year that she was able to start immediately, rather than spending time in either a juvenile detention centre or gen-pop. 

The significance of the age restriction became apparent when reviewing the list of rewards, punishments and privileges. Sexual activity was allowed in all three categories, However, sexual activity of any type was banned between educators and students, even voyeuristic. To enable them to be carried out, punishments and rewards were instead delegated to other students to deliver, allowing the use of consensual carnal means, which were found to be far more effective as incentives than less salubrious methods. 

Each classroom housed a private, well-equipped space nicknamed the ‘red room’, where such activities could occur. The rooms all contained recording equipment; a countermeasure to ensure safewords or limits were not ignored, but the records would only be reviewed if a complaint was made. Weems and a couple of administrative deputies were the only ones who could access the recordings, and digital fingerprinting ensured that access was not abused.

A class hierarchy determined the role of each student within the discipline system from top of the class – the student with the best performance – to bottom. The top was the automatic deputy for an educator. They would be the first in line to deliver rewards or punishments to their peers. They had first refusal, but could delegate or offer up the activity. The bottom of the class was exactly that. The last in line for rewards but the first in line for punishments. For example, if the student being rewarded enjoyed dominating another, the bottom of the class would be the first in line to be the submissive on the receiving end. Wednesday realised that Enid's repeated mention of her automatic status as bottom of the class held much more significance than she had thought. She would have to find a way to get herself promoted quickly. The thought of being the literal butt of the actions of all her classmates was deplorable. 

The contract clauses around the matter of consent were many; lengthy and explicit. A long list of limits spanned a series of pages, each one detailing the activity so there could be no misunderstanding. Students were allowed to opt out of a limited number of activities, although the number of exemptions was capped at five so as not to undermine the impact of punitive actions. Anything involving bloodshed, faeces or urine was automatically forbidden. 

A traffic light safeword system was used to prevent any of the motivational actions being taken beyond the comfort level of the student. Green for good, happy to continue; one tap or deliberate noise if non verbal. Yellow meant pause; two taps. It required a verbal check in. Red was an immediate stop and release from the situation; three taps. The individual was to be offered aftercare following a red, regardless of whether the activity was a punishment or a reward. 

There was also a failsafe. Any student or educator could use the term ‘Code Black’ to immediately suspend any activity. The non-verbal equivalent was tapping more than 3 times. Code Black would lead to suspension from all activities while the wellbeing of the invokee was ascertained. Each Code Black was followed by a review with the administration to verify whether the affected party wished to continue at the academy. However, Code Black could only be invoked three times by any individual. A third Code Black meant automatic termination in their education at Nevermore. The idea was that it was a means to evaluate whether the methods of the academy were truly beneficial to the individual. Immediate expulsion was the penalty for anyone who ignored the use of any safeword. 

Wednesday pored over the documents, checking the legalities, searching for loopholes. There were none that she could find to exploit. Begrudgingly she admitted to herself that signing it would remove all of her control in the situation, unless she chose to break the contract –  something that was within her right and power to do. 

When she had gleaned all she could from the documents, she stood and returned to the desk. Weems looked up from the paperwork she had been doing. 

“Wednesday. Are you ready to decide your future?”

Chapter Text

Weems looked piercingly at Wednesday as she asked the most important question she had faced in her living memory: “Are you ready to decide your future?”

Wednesday gulped, her mouth suddenly unspeakably dry. This was it. Ultimately, she had very little choice. Either way, she was giving up her freedom for the next few years. Prison seemed like the easy route at this point, but her mother's words echoed in her head. It required bravery to commit to this path, but to turn her back on the opportunity would be exceptionally foolish. She steeled her resolve. 

“I am,” she responded. “I'll sign the contract.”

“Excellent.”

The next half hour was spent going through the contract and limits. In the end, Wednesday chose not to impose any restrictions. Weems assured her that her list of boundaries could be updated at any time, all she needed to do was to ask. A safeword should be used if she found herself in a position that she couldn't cope with. A Code Black would automatically trigger a review of limits in any case. Finally, with a nervous flutter that ran down the length of her spine, Wednesday signed her name at the end of the document. 

“Wonderful. I shall have this added to your digital record immediately. Everyone can access anyone else's list of limits and privileges, so there is no case for ignorance. Now: to your education. Enid? Could you join us?”

Wednesday had forgotten the other girl was in the room. She had sat demurely on the sofa for the last couple of hours. The blonde quickly hopped up and stood in the same pose as before, arms crossed behind her, legs spread. 

“Excellent. Enid. Could you please list the acts of misconduct that Wednesday has exhibited since you entered the office?”

“Yes, Head Mistress. She has not assumed a position, either ‘attention’ or ‘ready’. She has not demonstrated respect through the use of titles. She has not acknowledged all instances where she was directly addressed.”

“I see. Anything else?”

“Um. She used a tone that was overly familiar when talking about her parents?”

“Are you asking or telling me?”

“Um, asking, Head Mistress.”

Weems chuckled. “Good. I think that you have good judgement. The tone was rather familiar, though as you don't know of any previous dealings I may have had with Wednesday, it was valid that you ask. Now, how would you recommend redressing the infractions? Do you think she should be punished, as she didn't know the rules?”

“I... I do, Head Mistress. Although she didn't know the rules before, she knows some of them now, and hasn't made any corrections.” Wednesday opened her mouth to protest, but quickly shut it when Weems shot her a sharp glance. The blonde giantess smiled keenly, raising an arched eyebrow in return. Belatedly, Wednesday looked to Enid and mimicked her position, gritting her teeth to keep her protests unvoiced. Immediately she could feel the cool air as it moved over her unclothed nether.

“A fair and most valid point, Enid. Please, punish Wednesday. If you want any advice or instruction, you may ask freely.”

“Yes, Head Mistress.” She turned to look nervously at her roommate, who glared at Weems before meeting Enid's gaze with the same intensity. Something about the challenge seemed to firm up Enid's resolve. “Wednesday, move to the desk.”

Wednesday hesitated for a fraction of a second, but did as instructed, though she could not stop her fists balling in frustration. As she stood facing Weems, she lowered her gaze to look at the scarlet leather overlay, unable to watch the smug satisfaction in the principal's features. 

Enid moved up behind her. “Bend over, chest on the desk. And lift your skirt.”

Wednesday froze for a moment, the enormity of what she had just consented to only really just starting to sink in. Slowly, she reached down, grabbing the hem of her skirt and pulled it up as she prostrated herself on the wooden surface. She turned her head so her right cheek rested on the cool surface, able to gaze into the fire that was crackling away in the enormous Medusa-head fireplace. 

Enid moved closer, lifting the skirt and laying it across her back. Wednesday shivered as the cool air caressed her buttocks, fully exposed for her roommate. Enid leaned over her to position her hands, pulling them to lay palm-flat on the desk just above her head, her elbows at right angles beside her shoulders. 

“Wednesday, do you know why you're being punished?” Enid asked. 

“Yes,” she forced out through gritted teeth.

Smack ! A stinging swat landed on her right arse cheek, making her jolt slightly and clench her buttocks. 

“Use my name when you address me. Do you understand?”

“Ah! Yes, Enid!”

“Very good. Tell me why you deserve to be punished.”

“...”

Slap ! Another blow landed where the first had, not too hard, but enough to be felt. 

“You can start with that infringement, if it makes it easier.”

“Gah! I didn't answer you when you spoke to me.”

Smack !

“Enid! I didn't answer you when you spoke to me, Enid!”

“Good girl. Continue.”

“I haven’t used appropriate titles when addressing you or Head Mistress Weems. Enid,” she added belatedly, sensing the girl raise her hand again. Enid hummed in approval, moving her hand to stroke Wednesday's stinging buttock. Immediately she relaxed a bit under the touch. 

“I didn’t acknowledge each time I was addressed by Ms- by Head Mistress Weems, Enid.” The hand continued to gently caress her, and she found her eyes blinking shut. “I didn’t move to correct my stance when I knew I wasn’t in position, Enid.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“I... I was angry at you for listing my mistakes. I shouldn't have blamed you.”

Enid stilled her hand in that moment, and a second later Weems cut in. 

“Very good. Enid, it seems that Wednesday is capable of learning quickly. How do you want to proceed?” She asked gently.

“Um. I think Wednesday should be punished for her actions since signing the contract. Um, but if she takes it well, she should also be rewarded for owning up to them, Head Mistress.”

“I agree. Wednesday, does that seem fair to you.”

Wednesday considered, screwing her eyes shut as she uttered “Yes, Head Mistress.”

“Very well. Enid, you may proceed.”

“Thank you, Head Mistress. Wednesday, count each spank and thank me. Two spanks for each offence, so ten spanks in total.”

“Yes, Enid. Thank you, Enid.”

“Oh, and try to stay relaxed. It hurts much worse if you tense up.”

“Yes Enid.” She attempted to relax, only to tense immediately as the first meaningful smack landed on her left buttock, forcing her eyes to pop fully open and a gasp to escape her. For a small girl, Enid had deceptive strength. 

“Don't forget to count,” reminded her roommate. 

“One! One. Thank you, Enid.”

The next blow was on the other cheek, and this time Wednesday was prepared. She quickly responded. 

“Two. Thank you, Enid.”

Enid continued to alternate slaps on each of her buttocks, moving her hand around slightly but always overlapping an existing mark by a greater or smaller degree. Wednesday counted out each stroke, biting out her thanks as her arse grew redder and warmer with each successive blow. 

By the seventh impact, her eyes were watering, and she was moaning deeply, the stinging heat coiling strangely in her abdomen. Her cheeks were flushed, initially from humiliation and then from the pain, and she was sweating slightly. She couldn't help but tense as the eighth smack landed on her right cheek, and as promised, the pain redoubled as a result. A cry escaped her, and she was forced to suck in a shaky breath before resuming her count. 

“Aaagh! Eigh- eight. Th- thank you, Enid.”

“Shh. Nearly there. Two more. Can you manage that?”

Wednesday nodded against the desk, and then remembered how she had ended up here. “Yes,” she said in a quiet voice. “Thank you, Enid.”

Enid stroked her burning behind. “Can you relax for me?”

Wednesday blew out a sigh, willing the tension from her muscles.

“That's it. Good girl,” soothed her roommate, before bringing both hands down to crash onto the glowing cheeks in front of her.

Wednesday shrieked, tears falling in earnest now, before questioning,  “Nine? Thank you, Enid.”

“That was nine and ten. That's it.” She rubbed her hands gently over the red marks, relaxing the abused muscles. “Good girl. Well done. You took that very well.”

Wednesday let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Enid.” She lay on the desk, just breathing and grateful to have survived her first punishment. 

“Well done, Enid.” Weems commented. Wednesday startled; she had forgotten the Head Mistress was in the room. Her world had narrowed down to Enid and her hand. Enid stepped back. She chose to remain lying on the desk, unsure if she was meant to stand or not, but not really having the energy to do so. “How is your hand?”

“A bit sore, Head Mistress. But alright.”

“You see now that such punishments are not easily given, hmm?”

“Yes- I mean no, Head Mistress.”

“Good. Wednesday: well done. I can't imagine your parents ever undertook such measures, given your circumstances in arriving here. Now, are you ready to proceed with your education?”

“I- yes, Head Mistress.” Wednesday had almost responded as she would have yesterday, but caught herself. If Weems realised, she didn't remark on it. 

“Good. Stay where you are. If you’ve been asked to take a position, you should remain in it until told otherwise.”

“Yes, Head Mistress,” she responded obediently, face still turned to the fireplace. She was past feeling embarrassed about having Enid standing over her naked backside. The girl had literally just had her hands all over it. Not much point in being bashful now. 

“Now. Enid, please tell me, did Wednesday gain any enjoyment from her punishment?”

Enid moved behind. “Open your legs for me?” She asked.

Wednesday froze, unsure if she was understanding correctly. 

“I'm sorry ?”

A look must have passed over her head as a sharp swat landed on her sore left buttock. It wasn't anything like as hard as the spanking she'd just endured but it still jolted her. 

“I mean, I'm sorry, Enid. I’m not sure I understand.”

Weems spoke, “Of course you’re allowed to ask for clarification. You merely need to ask, politely, if there's anything you're unsure about. Now, do as Enid asked.”

Wednesday gulped audibly. “Yes, Head Mistress,” she whispered, and then awkwardly moved to comply, shuffling her legs apart, the chilly air invading her most private parts. She was incredibly grateful she was still turned away from the other occupants of the room as Enid moved closer behind her. 

“She seems to be aroused, Head Mistress.” Wednesday choked a little noise of embarrassment, her cheeks turning crimson. 

“Tell me, Wednesday, have you ever pleasured yourself?”

Wednesday flushed, moving her head to stare at the woman with wide eyes. Weems just gazed at her, patient and deadly serious. She stammered for a moment before finding her words. 

“I, that... No. Not really. Head Mistress.”

“Hmm. I take it you've never experienced an orgasm before, then?”

“N- no, Head Mistress.”

“And have you experienced arousal previously?”

Wednesday squirmed, looking desperately around before finally meeting the imposing gaze again. 

“I. I don't know.” An arched eyebrow was levelled at her. “Head Mistress!”

“Hmm.” Weems looked over at Enid. “I want you to help Wednesday reward herself. Have her pleasure herself until she comes. Only help her if she needs it and if she agrees. I'll be outside. Come and get me when you've finished.” 

“Yes, Head Mistress.”

Wednesday, had frozen during the exchange. She could feel the blood rushing to her face, her mouth drying...

“Wednesday!” Weems was looking at her with a gentle expression, clearly having called her name a few times. “Can you tell me your color, pet? Take your time.”

Wednesday gazed up at her, taking a moment to process the question. She had forgotten about the safeword system; she wasn't completely powerless. She could stop this at any time. With this realisation, she took a moment to assess herself, her gaze unfocused as she appraised what she was feeling. 

She was feeling incredibly self conscious and embarrassed. And, judging by the stickiness between her thighs and the insinuations of the principal, aroused. The strange roiling in her gut that had started during the spanking wasn't actually in her stomach, but lower, between her belly and her privates. Though privates was no longer an appropriate term. 

Thinking about the spanking, she felt another pulse shoot to her core. The heat of her backside was fueling something. She hadn't previously experienced anything close to this, and hadn't really experimented with masturbation. But this was going to happen sooner or later – what was the point in delaying the inevitable? At least there was a very limited audience here. She took a calming breath, and looked back at Weems. 

“Green, Head Mistress.”

Weems smiled at her in an almost motherly fashion. 

“Good girl. Now, as Enid said, you deserve a reward for taking your punishment so well. If you feel overwhelmed, use the safewords – yellow to pause, red to stop. Can you repeat that?”

“Yellow to pause. Red to stop. I– I understand, Head Mistress.”

“Good girl. Remember, this is a reward. I want you to enjoy this and you can stop it at any time. Enid is going to take good care of you. If you aren’t comfortable, let her know. There will be no punishment for that. Do you understand?”

Wednesday swallowed nervously. “Yes, Head Mistress.”

“Good. I'll be outside. Remember, you can stop at any time.” With that, Weems exited the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Enid sighed. “OK. I know this is weird. But honestly? I think you need it. It will help. So... Do you want me here, or shall I come around the desk?”

Wednesday thought about it, deciding she'd rather be able to see Enid’s face than have Enid watch her masturbate.

“In front, please.”

Enid moved to sit on the enormous chair that Weems had vacated. 

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, Enid,” she responded, quietly. In her moment of vulnerability, Wednesday found herself automatically deferring to her roommate. 

“Good. Now, open your mouth, and put your first two fingers in.”

Hesitantly, Wednesday complied.

“Good girl. Now suck them. Get them nice and wet.”

Wednesday did, moving her tongue around her slim digits, her cheeks hollowing as she instinctively moved them in and out of her mouth. The feeling in her core seemed to twist and tighten as she did so, and she moaned a little. 

“Excellent. Now, take those fingers and run them through your labia. You're looking for a little nub.”

She did as instructed, gasping as the touch ignited something like a spark of electricity deep inside her. If running her fingers through her folds was a spark, then the sensation when she found her clitoris was a combustion. She gasped again, her hips jerking.

“Good. Now, move your fingers around it, like this, but not over it.” Enid lightly circled the tips of her fingers on the back of Wednesday's left hand. She hurriedly copied the action, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, a groan rising in the back of her throat as the pressure in her tightened further. 

“That's so good! Ok, see what feels good. You can add a bit more pressure if you like. Keep going around it.”

She felt the little nub jolting away as she ran her fingers around it, twitching so violently that her hips bucked at the same time. She gasped, her breath shortening and her core clenching. 

“Good, keep doing that. Don't stop.”

Desperately she complied, feeling the pressure mounting; a dark heat crawling up her neck. She needed that pressure to explode, her body understanding better than she did what was happening. She kept strumming around the little nub, groans and gasps scraping from her throat. The pressure was becoming almost painful, but she didn't know how to make it erupt.

“Aaah. Please! It's too much!’ she cried out, not really understanding what she needed. 

“Shh. It's OK. You're going to come. You've earned this. You just need to keep going.”

She writhed on the desk, her fingers scrabbling to do what was required to get herself over the cliff edge, but the precipice never arrived, seemingly moving just out of reach. 

“I can't! It's- aaah! It's- fuck!”

“Shh. It’s OK. Would you me to help you finish?”

“Oh god! Please, yes!”

“OK.” Enid rounded the desk. “Is it OK if I touch you?”

Whimpering, Wednesday nodded desperately. 

“Tell me in words,” coaxed Enid. 

“Please! Please touch me!”

Suddenly foreign fingers joined her hand, caressing the sopping entrance to her vagina but not pushing inside; just the initial touch was enough to push her over the edge. Like a rope being cut on a guillotine, her climax crashed down on her. 

She cried out a garbled wall of noise, her hips bucking desperately, her hand grinding into her pubis. She convulsed, and felt warm liquid pooling over her fingers as Enid continued to stroke her entrance, eking out her orgasm as she sobbed great gasping breaths. The prickly heat that had been building flashed through her, and she felt like she had been eviscerated from within. She had no control of herself, writhing like a woman possessed.

Slowly, she stopped moving, falling inert with her hand pressed between her legs. Enid must have pulled away at some point, and she dared not move her fingers, instead just cupping herself with a firm pressure. 

Gradually her breathing evened out and the roar of blood receded from her ears. She realised her left hand was being firmly held in a strong but gentle grasp, and a reassuring warm pressure lay over her back. She let out a long, noisy sigh.

“Good girl. You did so well. Such a good girl,” Enid soothed, moving her hand to stroke along her forearm. She let the praise wash over her, too exhausted to find annoyance in the belittling terms.

She was unsure how long she lay there as her heart finally slowed. She felt warm and comfortable, and if she was honest with herself, unafraid for the first time since her arrest. A radiant light had cleansed her, proving that maybe she was worthy of forgiveness. Not in the eyes of the law or those she had assaulted, but within herself for causing heartache and grief to those she loved most dearly. Maybe she could earn the forgiveness she had already been unconditionally offered. 

Eventually Enid gave her hand a squeeze, pulling her consciousness back to her. 

“Are you OK?”

She nodded, and then remembered why her arse was so hot. “I think so, Enid. Thank you.”

“OK. I'm going to get the Head Mistress.”

Enid pushed herself upright, and Wednesday immediately missed the warmth. Before she stepped away, Enid pulled her skirt back down to cover her fully. She closed her eyes, centering herself. She heard the noise of the other two women talking but let herself ignore it until she heard the creak of the chair in front of her. 

“Well done, Wednesday. Well done,” said Weems softly.  “Can you stand?”

“I think so, Head Mistress.”

Carefully, Wednesday peeled herself from the desk, her legs a little wobbly beneath her as she approximated the stance that Enid was in beside her. 

Weems looked at her with something like pride. “Alright. I think that is more than enough for today, Wednesday, I'm very pleased with the progress you've made. Rest well this afternoon. Your classes start tomorrow.”

“Yes, Head Mistress. Thank you.”

“Enid. Don't think that I've forgotten that you're owed a reward. As of today you have the privilege of being Wednesday's personal tutor. She's going to need someone to help her learn the ropes. You're to train her in everything you've learned to this point. Positions, behaviours, and expectations. 

“This means that you have the authority to discipline or reward her outside of the classroom. You're free to use the equipment in the red rooms, or make requests from the registrar. You'll report to me on Wednesday's progress when you bring her for her remedial behaviour sessions. If you are happy with her progress, you may recommend her for additional privileges. Equally, if she fails to live up to your expectations, you can recommend loss of privileges. You are not authorised to alter her privileges.

“Of course, you can come to me for advice at any time, or if for any reason you feel uncomfortable with your role. I want you to tell me you understand, and then tell me if you agree to this.”

“I understand, Head Mistress. Thank you. I would like to accept.”

“Very well. Wednesday; you are to treat Enid as your superior. She has my trust and support to help you and you will show her due respect. You will refer to her as Miss Enid, or Mistress. Is that understood?”

Wednesday glanced at her roommate but saw no indication of gloating. Indeed, Enid remained perfectly in position. Wednesday sighed. “Yes, Head Mistress.”

“Very well. Enid, please ensure Wednesday receives aftercare. If you like, you can have her see to you in return, but I'll leave it to you to decide. Just note though, I would recommend allowing Wednesday some scheduled time for reflection and decompression. I imagine this will be quite the adjustment for her.”

“I will. Thank you, Head Mistress.”

“Very well. Dismissed.”

Enid nodded respectfully before gesturing to Wednesday to do the same and ushering her through the door.

Chapter Text

“We should stop at the canteen. We both need lunch and you definitely need to take on some fluids.”

Wednesday looked at her roommate–turned–warden. Her arse was still throbbing and she could feel the drying fluid from her orgasm between her thighs. She glanced at her skirt and was relieved to see no visible indication of their activities on the dark material, but she knew it was there. The last thing she wanted was to sit her tender behind on a hard bench with the evidence of her first climax lingering on her. 

“With respect, I'd appreciate the opportunity to clean up a bit.”

Enid stopped in front of her and raised an eyebrow. 

“Miss Enid.” She added, with obvious sarcasm. 

“I wasn't asking. I was going to suggest we grab a takeout. But for that blatant lack of respect, we'll sit and eat.”

Wednesday glared at her. 

“If you don't start behaving we can go right back to the Head Mistress and talk about your privileges. If you don't like the uniform now, just think how it would be without the skirt.”

“And what about when I've run out of clothes? There's only so much you can hold over me.”

Enid flushed, gritting her teeth. Wednesday had touched a nerve. She had no idea how to keep her criminal roommate in check. She wasn't used to being in a position of dominance – she had only been here a few months longer than Wednesday and was very far from being top of class. Still, they were in a public setting and she was supposed to be Wednesday's superior. She needed to find a way to exert control, and quickly. 

Luckily, she knew something her roommate couldn't. She was a fur; a werewolf. She possessed above–human levels of strength and speed. Moving quickly, she grabbed Wednesday's blazer and lifted, causing her tiptoes to just skid on the ground. The shorter girl immediately reached back and grasped her arm with both her hands, attempting to break her hold, but was unable to find the leverage to do so. 

Looking around, Enid quickly opened the door to an adjacent classroom, dragging her charge by her scruff over to the private chamber that was used for schooltime punishments and rewards. 

For her part, Wednesday struggled gamely but was no match against lycan physiology. Realising that her struggles were getting her nowhere, she instead relaxed, forcing the other girl to hold her dead weight. Annoyingly, this didn't seem to be an issue, resulting in her awkwardly slouching, her jacket pulled tight and forcing her to keep her arms slightly away from her body. 

Dangling in her air jail, Wednesday resolutely ignored her roommate, instead taking the opportunity to observe her new surroundings in the hope of finding some implement or advantage to aid her escape. Unfortunately, she appeared to be in a dungeon. Restraints of all sorts hung on hooks on the facing wall, which was covered in tough mesh wire. Open restraints hung at various points, clearly designed to be used to bind a captive in an infinite number of poses.

The adjacent wall held a multitude of floggers and whips in all shapes and sizes, while various gags, masks and hoods hung opposite. A low pommel bench with various restraint–attachment points was pushed against one wall, but wheeled casters on its feet indicated it could be positioned freely. 

Before she could catalogue any further, she felt the familiar cinch of a handcuff bracelet encircle her right wrist. Instinctively she tried to pull her arm away, but found it trapped in the bafflingly strong grasp of her roommate. Enid wasted no time, simultaneously releasing her and swiftly grabbing her other arm, forcing it into the other cuff and trapping her arms behind her back.

Before Wednesday could try to struggle or protest, a cool leather band was buckled around her neck. With a snap, Enid promptly secured a leash to the O–ring on the front and forced her rebellious new submissive down to kneel, holding the lead short under her chin. Wednesday glared up, unclear as to how she'd been so easily manhandled. Usually she was more than a match for an opponent, but Enid had been so fast and so strong she found herself powerless to resist. Enid met her gaze with an equally hard expression. 

“OK. Let's figure this out. Five minutes ago you promised the Head Mistress that you would treat me with respect. Can you explain what respect means to you, because I think you might need to brush up on your language skills. “

“I made no promise. I agreed I would treat you with due respect. At the minute you've done nothing to earn that respect, therefore no respect is due,” Wednesday responded churlishly. 

“OK. So that's how you're playing it? Right back to the spoiled brat? I can't say I'm surprised. So this is the bit where you push the boundaries, yeah? Here's the thing, Wednesday: you don't get boundaries. It's black and white – a concept you should be very familiar with. You do what you're told. With me and everyone else. You don't get an opinion; you don't get a say. You behave, or you get punished. You literally just agreed to those terms in writing! You agreed to deal with the consequences of your actions. And immediately you act like a spoiled child. So now, you get to deal with the consequences. I'll give you one chance to apologise.”

Wednesday sneered, refusing to dignify the statement with a verbal response. Although her arse was still sore, she was confident she could take as much as Enid could dish out. 

“OK,” Enid shrugged. “Your funeral”. She wheeled the pommel bench out with her free hand, clicking down the brakes on the wheels with her toes to lock it in the centre of the room. Effortlessly she hauled Wednesday upright before pushing her to bend along the length of the bench, using the leash as leverage. She clipped a short connector to the collar, forcing Wednesday to remain doubled over. With her hands cuffed behind her she had no recourse to resist the inhuman strength of the blonde.

Enid proceeded to clip a broad leather strap to anchor points on either side of the bench, tightening it to secure Wednesday's arms flat against her back. Lastly she walked over to the wall behind Wednesday to pick up something that clanked as she carried it. Kneeling down behind Wednesday, out of her field of vision, she wrapped a cuff around one ankle before dragging her feet wide apart and securing another cuff to the opposite ankle to leave her spread open with a rigid bar preventing her from closing her legs. Standing back up, she gathered Wednesday's skirt, lifting it and tucking it into the strap around her middle, exposing her red and beaten arse and her still moist pussy.

Standing back she considered her charge, before making a snap decision. She moved to the wall of hoods and gags, selecting a black ball gag and bringing it for Wednesday to see. The ball had the holes drilled across the center, presumably to allow for easier breathing, but was still a good inch and a bit wide.

“As you clearly have no inclination to apologise, you won't need to speak. Do you remember the non–verbal safewords?”

Wednesday glanced away. The thought of having her speech taken left an unusual feeling in her gut. Enid quickly stepped forward to grab her fringe and force her to meet her angry gaze. 

“We're not leaving here until you've received a punishment and begged me for forgiveness. This is important. Do you remember the safewords.”

Wednesday licked her lips, the first sign of her composure slipping, before nodding. “Yes.” She gasped as Enid used her grip on her bangs to force her head around, tugging at her scalp. It was painful enough to prompt her memory. “Yes, Enid!” Enid tugged lightly on her fringe again. “I mean, yes, Miss Enid.”

“So quick to learn. Now we just need to make sure you don't forget. Tell me the safewords. Verbal and non–verbal.”

“Green is good. One tap. Yellow is pause. Two taps. Red is stop. Three taps, E– Miss Enid.”

“And?”

“Code Black is stop everything. More than three taps, Miss Enid.”

“And what colour are you?”

“Green, Miss Enid.”

“Good. Open your mouth.”

Wednesday looked up uncertainly, biting her lower lip. Enid raised her brow. “I can make you open it.” She moved her hand to just below the other girl's jaw. Reluctantly, Wednesday let her mouth fall open. Enid pushed the ball gag between her teeth before leaning over to fasten it securely, the action jostling Wednesday's head as she tugged at the straps and causing her to release a low hum when the action pulled the ball firmly into her mouth. 

“OK. Now again, what colour are you?”

Wednesday, hands still bound behind her, thought for a second before clicking her fingers once. Enid leaned down to look her squarely in the eye.

“Good. Remember, you can stop this if you need to. But I'm going to keep going until you let me know you're ready to apologise.”

Wednesday tried to follow the blonde as she walked around the pommel, but could only look about a quarter of the way behind her with her neck leashed to the bench. She heard Enid move away, opening what sounded like a cupboard – though Wednesday hadn't spotted it in her quick assessment of the room – before rummaging for something. 

While she awaited her punishment, she quickly realised that the gag was its own challenge. She flexed her jaw against it, but couldn't help but keep her mouth wide open. She found she could swallow, but not effectively. Within a few short moments, saliva was starting to seep from the corners of her mouth and pool on her lower lip. As she tried to establish a way to prevent an inevitable spillage, Enid walked up and returned to stand at her exposed behind. Wednesday heard a clattering, then a couple of clicks, the second of which was immediately answered by a low humming, which quickly shut off so Enid could address her. 

“You probably thought this was going to be another spanking. Spoilers! It's not. You got too much enjoyment from that. Not much of a punishment. So we're going to try something else. I'm going to rile you up until you're about to come. And then I'm going to stop. And then I'm going to do it again. And again. When you can't take it anymore, you signal me, and I'll let you apologise. If I think you're sincere, we'll go and get lunch. Give me your colour.”

Wednesday snapped her fingers once. She didn't think this sounded challenging. Until today she had never even felt remotely aroused, so it couldn't be that big of a deal. She listened as Enid clicked the hummer into life again. And then jolted violently as a broad, rounded head was pushed to her exposed pussy, moving around slightly until it sat just on her clitoris where it hummed and buzzed and vibrated in an onslaught of sensation. 

The intense vibrations immediately took effect and Wednesday gasped around the gag as she felt her core muscles clench involuntarily. She felt a creeping warmth pushing up her neck as her body tried to escape the overwhelming sensation, only to find she was effectively immobilised, able only to rock slightly from side to side and shift her weight from foot to foot. She moaned unintelligible noises through the gag, gasping and whining as the pounding of her blood became louder through her veins and her entire being seemed to focus on the point of contact between the vibrating bulb and her sensitive nub. 

The pressure in her core increased as she convulsed and twitched, building higher and higher. Her breath shortened and she clenched everything, willing herself to fall over that edge but she was paralysed, stuck on the precipice as everything in her being was screaming for release. The vibrations weren't enough – she wasn't going to get there, caught like a fish on the line with her release entirely in Enid's hands. 

As if recognising this, Enid pulled the wand away, clicking it off. As Wednesday let her head slump and drew in whistling gasps of air through the gag, the blonde tapped her chin in thought. 

“Interesting. Looks like clitoral stimulation isn't enough to get you to come on its own. It wasn't a one–off before. So. The question is, what's going to break first? You, or your climax?¨ She waited a beat before adding “Are you ready? Tell me your colour.”

Fuzzily, Wednesday pieced together the words hitting her ears. Her heart rate was slowing so she could hear more clearly, but embarrassingly she could see a string of spittle dropping from the gag down to pool on the floor below. She found herself gazing down at it, quite forgetting that Enid had spoken. A light slap on her arse wrenched her attention back.

“Wednesday? Colour?”

“Gwwwwn, mfff ewwn.” She mumbled, momentarily forgetting her inability to speak before snapping her fingers once.

Almost immediately she cried out as the wand clicked on as it pressed back into her throbbing centre. The smouldering embers immediately stoked back to burning flames, scorching her from the inside to writhe and wiggle futilely as the vibrations seared her sensitive flesh. Her neck muscles contracted, her spine arching as her hands balled into fists against her back. She cried out in a crackling groan as her skin flushed again, sweat breaking out across her as the remorseless vibrations pulsed against her. Her hips thrust desperately, seeking friction that would never be granted. Tears squeezed free as she clenched her eyes tightly shut. She cried out in a broken sob, trying to plead with her merciless torturer. 

Instead of reprieve, the vibrations suddenly increased in intensity, forcing a short, muffled scream to escape her. The pressure in her abdomen was spiky and hot, unrelenting and increasing with each second. Something was going to break, either in her body or her mind if this didn't stop. Fully sobbing she tried to beg, to apologise, anything to make this torment end. 

“Bweeeh! Bweeeh! Aahh orwheh!” she pleaded around the ball clenched between her teeth.

Abruptly the vibrations stopped, the wand pulled from her weeping vagina. She cried softly in both relief and disappointment. She didn't want to – couldn't – stay on that crest, but to be denied the plummet of relief was almost worse. She collapsed over the bench, head lolling down as she drew in shaky breaths, until a hand pushed her chin up. Through lidded eyes she stared up at Enid, her own tears distorting the stern but compassionate gaze directed at her. 

“Are you ready to behave for me?”

Wednesday nodded vigorously, hiccuping as she whined piteously. Her chin was released, her head falling forwards as Enid unbuckled the gag. As the ball was pried from between her teeth, she swallowed loudly before addressing her Mistress in a low, scratchy voice.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Mistress. Please, no more. I'm sorry.”

“Remind me what you're sorry for.”

“I'm sorry for disrespecting you, Mistress.”

“And?”

“I'm sorry for questioning you, Mistress.”

“And?”

“I'm sorry for... for acting like a brat, Mistress,” Wednesday whispered, head hanging low. 

“OK. So what happens now?”

“I... we... Whatever you say, Mistress.”

“See? You do learn quickly. Alright. Let's try this again. We're going to go and get some lunch. If you can manage that without acting like a petulant child, we'll go back to the dorm and you can have some time to unpack.”

“Yes, Mistress– Miss Enid. Thank you, Miss Enid.”

Enid didn't bother to respond. She moved back out of sight, and Wednesday heard her moving around a bit before a firm hand grasped her calf as the cuffs at her ankles were released. She stayed where she was as the strap around her middle was released, and even after the clip on the collar was unsnapped, freeing her from the bench. She had been put in a position, and she wasn't going to risk another punishment already by moving prematurely. Her abdomen was still burning with wasted arousal and from how hard she'd been tensed. 

“Up,” Enid commanded, tugging her shoulder as she shakily stood upright. Her hands were finally released but she ignored the cliché act of rubbing at her chafed wrists. This wasn't the first time she'd been cuffed, and it was better than much of what she'd suffered at the hands of bigoted normie cops. Instead she wiped the saliva from her face then immediately moved to emulate the position she'd seen Enid adopt in front of Weems; feet spread, hands clasped behind her, gaze fixed firmly on the door she now faced. 

Enid moved towards the collar on her neck, raising her hands to it before she stopped, tilting her head as if in thought. 

“Actually, I think we'll keep the collar. It will help you remember your place.”

Bristling slightly internally but choosing not to respond to the rhetorical musing, Wednesday watched from the corner of her eye as she turned back to the recessed cupboard in the corner of the room, opening a drawer within and pulling out something that fit in the palm of her hand. When the blonde started to turn back towards her, Wednesday snapped her eyes back to the fore, listening as Enid walked up to stop right behind her. She felt a tap on the leather collar, before Enid slid a finger between the leather and the skin at the back of her neck, causing her to flinch and an involuntary shudder to run up her spine at the contact with the small hairs on her nape.

“Shhh. It's OK. I'm just making sure it's fitted properly,” soothed Enid. Wednesday forced herself to remain still as she felt the collar undone and adjusted so it was slightly looser, Enid seemingly satisfied as she slid a second finger into the space created. The fingers slid free, a slight shudder escaping her control at the sensation which caused the blonde a small hum of amusement. Finally, Enid clicked something onto the back of the collar. It didn't take incredible deductive reasoning to assume that the collar was now secured with a lock. 

Wednesday chafed internally at the realisation that she now had a very public indicator of her new status as not only ‘bottom of the class’, but also subordinate to her roommate. However, she was still suffering from being brought and held at the edge of climax; the heat in her core and a sticky, itchy sensation between her legs an uncomfortable reminder. She couldn't stand the thought of being pushed back to that state so, for now, she kept her feelings to herself. 

Before she could ruminate any further, Enid stepped in front of her and picked up the end of the leather lead that was still tethered to the collar. With a tug on the leash, she stepped through the door, giving Wednesday little option but to follow. 

“Come on. Time for lunch.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday trailed Enid as they traversed the school to the dining hall. She had little choice given the literal noose and tether around her neck. She kept her eyes firmly down, unwilling to witness the stares of her new schoolmates. She realised it probably wasn't unusual to see classmates subjugated in public – the Handbook and contract had been quite clear that such actions could be either punitive or rewarding depending on a student's preferences – but with her unique uniform and unfamiliar face it was going to be immediately apparent to all that she was the new girl who couldn't help but invite trouble. 

As they arrived at the self-service lunch buffet, Enid pushed a tray into Wednesday's hands.

“You carry. I'll plate.” She instructed. A short jerk on the lead reminded Wednesday that she was expecting a response. 

“Yes, Miss Enid,” she said, quietly. 

“Louder this time. I need to hear you...”

“ Yes, Miss Enid,” she echoed, with more volume and an edge of petulance she wasn't sure she had the ability to withhold. 

“Well I guess we'll work on the tone. So, do you want the salad or the rice?”

They made their way down the line, Enid loading the plates and tray with one hand as she maintained her grip on the leash. She made sure to ask Wednesday what her preferences were for food, carefully checking the amount she placed on the plate. 

Were it not for the lead and collar, and the repeated refrain of “Miss Enid” after each response, it would seem like a perfectly natural exchange. For Enid at least. To Wednesday, the feeling of attention so focused on her was unsettling, making her want to squirm in embarrassment. She'd long excluded herself from the company of her peers in the normie schools she'd attended. It was easier than inviting the inevitable betrayal of supposed friends and acquaintances once they realised she wasn't a normal human , but one of the outcasts they were taught to fear and deride.

Finally Enid placed two glasses on the tray and grabbed a full jug of water, carrying it as she led Wednesday to a quiet table in the corner. She gestured for the shorter girl to take the bench against the wall before sliding in next to her and finally unclipping the leash from the collar. Wednesday gasped as she sat, having forgotten about the spanking that had tenderised her posterior until it met the hard bench. She squirmed, trying to find a position that didn't aggravate her enflamed skin. 

“You're better off not moving around on it,” Enid advised. “You'll get used to it in a moment.” Wednesday noticed that her roommate herself was perched to the front of the bench, minimising the amount of pressure across her own reddened buttock. Subtly she emulated the position and found that although the pressure on the tops of her thighs was uncomfortable, it wasn't as outright painful as sitting on her beaten arse. 

While she was settling herself, Enid had served the plates from the tray, poured them each a glass of water and picked up her cutlery to start eating. As she loaded her fork, she looked at Wednesday from the corner of her eye. 

“Make sure you drink plenty. You don't realise how much liquid you lose when you come. Once we're done you can go back to the dorm and clean up. I'll come back this evening.”

Flushing slightly at the mention of her previous climax, Wednesday responded quietly, “Yes, Miss Enid. Thank you, Miss Enid.” She was desperately keen to get out of the public eye, and to wash away the traces of her first orgasm. She would defer to her roommate to earn that small freedom. 

The second she was done eating – mindful to drink down a few glasses of water – she looked to Enid, who had already wolfed down her lunch and was watching the few other students taking a late lunch. Wednesday cleared her throat lightly, gaining Enid's questioning eye. 

“May I please be excused?” The blonde eyebrow arched. “Miss Enid?”

“If you need my attention, ask it with my name.”

“Yes, Miss Enid. Sorry, Miss Enid.” Compliance was the quick way to get what she wanted. 

“Ok. Now ask again.”

“Miss Enid? May I please be excused?”

“Of course! I'll see you in the dorm. Don't get in any trouble!” Enid stood and moved out of the way. 

“Thank you, Miss Enid!” Wednesday, muttered as she slipped past and made good her escape. 

Naked apart from the damned collar, Wednesday lay on her bed having immediately showered upon arriving back to the dorm. She couldn't countenance putting the uniform back on, so opted to remain nude. Yesterday she wouldn’t have even considered such a thing, but seeing as Enid had already seen everything – hell, had even touched most of her intimate areas – there didn’t seem any point in being bashful now.

Staring at the ceiling she thought about her day. A lot had changed. She was no longer free to act as she wished, although the same would have been true had she refused Weems’ offer. At least here at the academy she was in a position to earn greater freedoms than she would have in an overcrowded, state-run penitentiary. However, her actions now held more weight than they had at any point previously. Her every decision was measured against a standard she was still coming to understand. Her impulsive inclinations were more likely to find consequences – meaningful consequences. She wasn't sure she knew how to mitigate for that. 

Her reflection inevitably turned to the spanking she'd received as her first punishment. She shouldn't have been surprised that the pain awakened something in her; she was an Addams after all. Thinking about that pain, even now that it had dulled under the cool water of the shower, made something in her nether flutter. The tightness in her core from Enid's second punishment had lessened over lunch, but it hadn't dissipated, and thinking about the crack of her roommate's palm against her seemed to bring it back into focus. Idly she thought about touching herself, to try and bring herself to orgasm, but she had struggled to bring herself to climax in Weems’ office; she didn't want to find herself stuck on that awful precipice again. 

While she was idling the sun burst from behind a cloud, suffusing her space in riotous colour which popped her sense of calm like a water balloon filled with hydrochloric acid, reminding her that she was far from the muted palette of her tower sanctuary in the Addams family home. She fumed. This was unacceptable. Springing upright she moved decisively to the window, quickly noting that the applied colour was simply self– adhesive film. Looking around she spotted a nail file on Enid's desk, quickly snatching it up and using it to pry away the corner of the bright layer. It peeled away readily, leaving the glass pristine and colourless, as intended. 

Within an hour or so she had managed to clear all but a couple of the panes on her side of the window, carefully cutting down the centre where the film crossed the perceived boundary between Enid's and her space. As she knelt to peel the penultimate piece, the door swung open and she heard Enid step into the room. 

“Hey Wednes– what the FUCK!”

Enid stomped across the room, exclaiming,  “What have you done to my room!?”

“It's our room. I–” Wednesday was cut off with a small grunt as her braids were gripped tightly and used to haul her to her feet. She was forcefully spun around to face the fuming features of her roommate as the grasp on her hair was released. She was surprised and – alarmed? – to see tears shining in the blue eyes as they glared at her. 

“What the hell!” Enid was shouting now, waving her hands in exasperation. “I leave you alone in an attempt to be considerate and this is how you repay me? Do you know how long it took me to do that? Do you even fucking care?”

“I–”

“No! Nothing out of you. Get on your knees!”

“Enid–”

Enid grabbed Wednesday by the shoulder and pushed her down roughly, forcing her to kneel to prevent falling. 

“I said kneel! Put your hands behind your back and stay there. Don't you dare fucking move!”

Despite the unfairness of it all, Wednesday recognised that her roommate was acting on emotions right now. This wasn't the calm anger she'd seen when challenging her tutor over lunch; this was wild and untamed. She lowered her head and grasped her wrists together behind her, hoping to wait until the blonde calmed a bit rather than invite an escalation in the situation. 

Enid turned and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her. Wednesday looked up, unsure what to expect, but she recalled the advice Weems had given. She'd been put into a position. Enid was going to expect her to stay there. She would, at least for now. 

Less than five minutes later Enid banged back into the room, a selection of items grasped in her hands. She moved to her bed and threw them down before turning back to her kneeling roommate. “Come here,” she said in a cold, sharp tone. 

Wednesday pushed herself to her feet and moved to stand in front of the blonde in the pose she'd learned that morning, carefully not meeting her eye. 

“Turn around.”

She complied, turning nearly 180 degrees, keeping her hands clasped behind her. Enid picked something up with a jingle before pulling Wednesday's arm free and wrapping what felt like a leather cuff around it, cinching it securely. Her other wrist was similarly treated before they were bound together with a snap. She didn't protest or resist. She'd see where this was going and if she could deescalate the situation. She had the safewords if all else failed. 

With another jingle, Enid reached her arms around Wednesday's hips. The shorter girl startled and looked down to see a wide black belt being pulled around her before it was fastened and then rotated so the buckles sat over her belly. Two straps hung down to a loop of leather that sat a bit lower than her crotch. 

A tap on her thigh coincided with the next cold instruction; “Spread your legs.” Nervousness spiked down her spine, but she moved to comply. She felt a new sense of vulnerability wash over her. It was different from the red room – she hadn't had time to react to the swift removal of her freedom then. Now however, she was submitting knowingly to her roommate's commands, exposing her most intimate parts to someone she'd managed to send into a fury. A rare sense of self–preservation told her to both comply but also to protect herself, and it took her higher thought processes to reason that obedience was the better option. 

Enid reached through her legs and pushed something through the loop – a long plastic item with a rounded head, which in turn had a rubber hood from which protruded two tiny fingers in a ‘come hither’ position. She instantly identified it as the same type of device that had been held between her legs in the red room, and the spark of nervousness flared brighter; she wasn't sure she could withstand that torture again. 

“Enid– Mistress, please. I'm sorry.”

“It's too late for that. You clearly haven't learned that your actions have consequences. An apology isn't going to cut it,” Enid said flatly. 

The plastic bulb was pulled against her as another strap was pulled between her arse cheeks and buckled to the back of the belt. The two little fingers sat just either side of her clit; Enid made sure of it. With a click, the vibrations shot through the sensitive nub, making her gasp and jerk where she stood. She screwed her eyes shut as the embers of arousal from her previous encounter roared back to life. Her arms instinctively moved to try to remove the torturous device, but the cuffs held firm and all she could do was curl her hands into fists, her nails pressing into the soft flesh of her palm.

She didn't notice Enid moving around to stand in front of her until the lead was clicked onto her collar and tugged, forcing her to stagger forward. On shaky legs she had no choice but to follow as she was all but dragged out of the room and down the hall behind her furious roommate.

As they passed another room, the door opened and a dark skinned girl looked out with apparent interest. “Extra-curricular, Sinclair?” she asked, arching an exquisite eyebrow. “Don’t let it distract you from your own performance.”

Enid ignored her, while Wednesday closed her eyes in embarrassment as she was hauled, completely naked, through the dorm. Her legs felt like jelly, but at least while she was moving the vibrations didn’t concentrate in one spot. However, the coil in her core twisted ever tighter as the little fingers waved innocuously over her fleshy nub.

Enid pulled her to a stop in front of a double door, alongside which a plaque designated as ‘Dorm Representative’. The blonde rapped sharply on the door while Wednesday tried to even her breath as the wand whirred against her. 

“Coming!” a breathy cry came from inside, followed by a high pitched series of moans. 

“Stand still, stay quiet and don't come,” Enid warned her, looking at her scornfully as they waited.

After about a minute – or an eternity to Wednesday, who couldn’t help the odd gasp escaping as the vibrations continued to pull the pressure in her gut lower and lower – the door opened to reveal the Asian woman she’d seen in the shower that morning. Her hair was tousled and her chin was glistening as she grinned widely at the sight before her. She was wearing a red corset with black boning; nothing else, her nipples standing proudly erect, a neatly trimmed fuzz between her legs. 

“Enid? And Wednesday. I see you’re showing her the ropes. Or cuffs, in this case. Sorry for the delay. Couldn’t keep my gal waiting. Unlike poor Wednesday here.” She raised a curious eyebrow. “So. What’s up?

“This brat needs to be taught some manners,” Enid seethed. “I need the red room.”

“Ok. Weems told me about your privileges. Can I ask what you had in mind?”

“Anything. Everything. I don't know,” Enid admitted huffily.

Wednesday gasped again, watching the exchange with wide eyes. She shifted her weight between her feet, trying vainly to move her clit away from the probing wand.

“Ok. So what exactly is going on? Why have you got her hopping like a flea on speed?”

“She destroyed my property. I left her to unpack because I felt she needed time to herself, and came back to find her trashing the place like the spoiled bitch she is,” Enid seethed, not sparing a glance to the subject of her wrath.

Wednesday opened her mouth to protest. “Enid! I–” she was jerked bodily forward by a harsh yank on the lead, stumbling to stand beside Enid rather than behind her shoulder.

“Shut up!” snapped the blonde.

Yoko held her arms up. “Whoa. Ok, Enid, you’re upset. You need to take a moment before you do anything rash or that you both regret. Give me the lead.”

“Ugh!” Enid practically threw the lead towards the older student, crossing her arms with a thunderous expression on her face.

Yoko calmly took the handle before stepping forward and turning off the vibrator, much to Wednesday’s relief.

“Thank you, Miss–” Wednesday bit off the end of the title before it fell out of her mouth. It was bad enough she kept calling Enid Mistress, she couldn’t show such timidity to everyone she interacted with!

“Yoko. You can call me Yoko.”

Wednesday nodded, relieved the older girl hadn't made anything of her slip. “Thank you, Yoko.”

“Ok. Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to go back to your dorm, address what has happened, and then I will come with you to the Red Room if we decide Wednesday needs it. Enid? Is that ok with you?”

“Yes. Thank you, Yoko,” the blonde grit out.

Wednesday noted she wasn’t consulted, but she was quickly getting the idea that was her lot now. At least until she could get promoted from bottom of the class.

Yoko turned to call, “Div? I’ve got some dorm stuff to sort. I’ll be back later.”

“I’ll be waiting. Don't be too long, baby girl.”

“Yes, daddy!” Yoko closed the door, then turned with a smug grin and an upturned eyebrow. “Now, let’s get on with this – I’ve got other business to attend to.” With that, she strode confidently back to their dorm, despite her immodest costume, pulling Wednesday along with Enid stalking behind.

Yoko whistled as she walked in, eying up the pile of discarded film in front of the window, walking over to stop in front of it, Wednesday – inevitably – a step behind. The dorm rep turned around and unbuckled the wand harness, letting it drop down her legs before gesturing that Wednesday step out of the loops. Once she had done so, Yoko pointed to the floor. “You, kneel.” Wednesday baulked at the order, but did as bidden, kneeling in front of the half-toned window with her hands still pinioned behind her. Yoko jerked on the lead. “Manners...”

“Yes, Yoko. Sorry, Yoko.”

Enid stood behind silently, and Wednesday was sure she could feel her glare boring into the back of her head.

“Ok. Enid, tell me why you’re upset,” Yoko invited. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” she responded shrilly. “I spent hours making the window all pretty, and within one day she’s completely ruined it! I was trying to be nice and give her some time to herself and instead she’s trashed my space!!”

“That’s–” Wednesday started to interject but Yoko immediately jerked the lead again and tsked, warning Wednesday to hold her tongue. The leash was getting to be an incredible annoyance, but she scowled and bit her tongue.

“So why, specifically, are you upset?” Yoko addressed Enid over Wednesday’s head.

“I... I’m trying really, really hard to help Wednesday fit in here, because clearly she’s not going to be able to without some sort of divine intervention, and she’s going to go to actual jail if she gets kicked out, and it feels like she’s just throwing everything back in my face. She doesn’t get that this is affecting me too. I’m meant to be looking out for her, and I can’t do that when she keeps crossing every goddamn line I put down.”

“Ok. Good. But instead of telling us what you think Wednesday is doing, tell us how her actions are making you feel.”

Enid let out a long sigh. “I... feel like I’m not going to be able to do enough to help her. I don’t feel like her Mistress. I feel like I’m the dumb kid who got given the dumber kid to look after. Like as a psychology joke or something. And I feel like if – no, when – I fail, then she’s fucked.”

Wednesday listened raptly. Her instinct was to flee the situation, but she was literally bound to stay. What Enid said hurt. But it wasn’t the parts where she talked about her obvious, inevitable failure to fit in – that she had long ago recognised in herself – but that she thought Wednesday was acting out of malice caused physical discomfort in her. And yet, Enid still wanted to help her. She’d only just met her and she was already invested in keeping her out of the penal system. 

She blinked when she realised that Yoko was looking down at her with a soft sort of knowing on her face.

“Wednesday. Do you want to talk about why you did what you did? What were you feeling and thinking?”

Wednesday absolutely did not want to walk about her emotions, but the raspy breaths from her roommate made her want to at least try and get her to understand her actions, to make her realise that Wednesday hadn't set out to cause harm. “I–” she stopped and looked up at Yoko, who still had the end of her leash. “Yoko, may I please face E- Miss Enid?”

Yoko nodded, moving forward to give her the slack she needed.

Awkwardly, Wednesday shuffled around on her knees until she could look up at Enid’s teary face. Enid didn’t meet her gaze, looking at the floor to one side, but Wednesday could tell she was listening. If anything, the lack of eye contact made it easier to get the words out.

“Mistress. I apologise for upsetting you. I didn’t mean disgratitude in clearing the window. I... I was feeling overwhelmed. The colours... they were too much. Too foreign. Too... bright. Ugh, that's ridiculous...”

“No. It’s not ridiculous.” Yoko corrected from behind her. “Those were your feelings. They’re totally valid. Keep going. It’s ok.”

Wednesday sighed, continuing, “Mistress, I wasn’t trying to make you angry or push a boundary. I... I...” She grunted in frustration. Why was this harder than bending over to take a spanking? “I wanted to make my part of the room feel like my space. Because... because I can’t go home. I can't go anywhere. I don't have anywhere else to go.” her voice cracked as she whispered, “I don't want to go to prison.” She looked earnestly at Enid, who had moved her gaze to meet hers. “I do want your help. I... I need your help. Please. Please help me, Mistress.”

Enid gazed at Wednesday with tears in her eyes. Something shifted, softened in her eyes, and she stepped forwards, placing her palm on her mentee’s cheek. “Ok. Ok. I forgive you. And I’ll help you.”

Wednesday leaned ever so slightly into the warmth, finding an unfamiliar comfort in the gesture. A tear threatened to fall, but she willed it back. “Thank you, Mistress,” she whispered, finally able to look away, the vulnerability she felt too overwhelming to continue to meet that sapphire gaze.

Yoko cleared her throat, a little awkwardly. “Ok. This looks like it’s de-escalated. Do you still need the red room?”

Enid looked down at her charge. “No. Not today. Thank you, Yoko.”

“OK. Well, I’m likely to need it for myself if I don't get back to Divina soon. Are you guys good?”

“Yes, thanks Yoks.”

“Thank you, Yoko,” Wednesday dutifully added, as the dorm rep made a hasty escape, handing the lead to Enid as she passed. The blonde pulled Wednesday face to meet her gaze at her as she in turn looked down, a serious expression on her face.

“Wednesday. I’m sorry. Earlier, I didn’t give you the chance to explain. And I didn’t check in before punishing you. And that is unthinkable. Tomorrow, we’re going to go to the Head Mistress. I’ll take a punishment. I want you to be there to see.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Wednesday fought the urge to avert her eyes under the scrutiny as Enid continued. 

“This is important. If ever I start a punishment without checking in, you have to stop me. Use a safeword. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Ok. Stand up.” She helped Wednesday rise to her feet, unclipping the leash before turning her around to release the cuffs. “Help me finish this window. We’ll clear it up and then get your side of the room feeling a bit more homey.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” she answered quietly. 

“Tomorrow, before class, we’ll decide what punishment, if any, is appropriate. I want you to think about it. It will be a conversation, not an imposition. If you tell me you don't deserve or need one, then we’re done. Is that fair?”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.”

The rest of the afternoon passed amicably as they cleared the film up and disposed of the waste. They then unpacked Wednesday’s personal effects, rearranging the space so she could avoid the sun across her bed, setting up a cosy alcove to be her safe space. By the time they were done it was dinner time. Calling in a favour, Enid had a couple of dishes brought up to the room, letting them both avoid sitting their aching arses on the hard benches for a second time.

After they had eaten, Enid called Wednesday over, holding up a jar of greenish ointment. 

“So, we should have done this much earlier. But if we use this now, we should be able to sit through class tomorrow without screaming. Um... usually I’d apply it to you, as your Mistress, but if you aren’t up for that we can–”

“Yes. Yes please, Mistress.” Wednesday felt an unfamiliar comfort at the thought of a reconciliatory gesture, but also had learned enough just through the day that she recognised that Enid would be hurt by her refusal. There was another part of her, deep in the dark recesses of her soul, that remembered the feel of Enid's hands caressing her ass during her spanking and was clamouring for the opportunity to repeat the experience.

“Oh. OK,” Enid sounded bemused. “Well. Lie down. On your bed so you can get comfortable.”

Wednesday moved to lie prone on her duvet, arms folded to rest her chin on. She was still naked, not wanting to dress in her uniform and dirty it unnecessarily. Enid moved to kneel beside her.

“Um, would you feel supes awkward if I sort of sat over your legs?”

Wednesday considered. “I don't know. Mistress. But, if I don't like it, I can let you know?”

“Um, yeah. Ok. Good g– great!” She carefully straddled Wednesday’s lower legs, shimmying up to rest on her lower thighs. The pressure was unexpectedly reassuring. 

“Ok, so this is what we call aftercare. It’s – well, it’s kinda what it says. It's about making sure any bruises or injuries are tended to, but it’s also emotionally important. Like, for both of us, today has been pretty intense. So the aftercare lets us check in without being in the drama of the moment. Like, to make sure that the other person is comfortable with everything that happened, and be like a safe place to talk about anything that it brought up. Um – does that make sense?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Ok, so I’m gonna rub this in, and talk to you. And you can tell me if you get uncomfortable, Is that ok?”

“I.. yes. Mistress.” Wednesday mumbled, flushing a bit. Emotional availability was something of a foreign concept. She felt more awkward talking about her feelings than having her roommate sat over her naked arse.

“Look, you... you don't need to feel awkward. How about... how about if we get rid of titles for now. Would that help?”

“Yes, M– yes, Enid,” 

“I mean, you can just talk normally, you don't even have to call me Enid. OK?”

“Ok. Yes. Thank you.” Wednesday closed her eyes, removing a source of the input from her mind, making space for the sensation she was about to experience.

Enid unscrewed the lid of the jar, scooping some of the cool ointment onto her fingers.

“This is gonna be cold at first, but that’s why it works,” she warned, before sliding her hand over the red flesh below her. 

Wednesday flinched with a little gasp, but immediately relaxed as Enid started to work it gently into her inflamed bum cheeks. She let herself be lulled by the motion, the tense set of her shoulders easing and allowing her to sink further into the bed. 

“Ok. So... I got the impression that you don't find it easy to talk about emotions. But I think it’s important that we can do that so that I know how this is all impacting you. Can you tell me how you feel about today?” Enid asked gently as she continued her ministrations.

Wednesday frowned. That... that was too big of a question. “I... I don't know. Can you– can you ask about something more specific?”

“Sure! That was really well put. Thank you. Ok... How do you feel about this morning, about signing the contract?”

“I don't know!” Wednesday huffed in frustration, her shoulders tensing again. “How can I know that? It’s going to affect me for the next three years of my life!”

“Ok. So it was a big deal. So, what do you feel about being here for the next three years?”

“...It’s too long. It’s too long to think about.” She hunched forward, hiding her face between her arms. 

Enid noticed, and took a few moments to just work the ointment in with a firm pressure. When the shoulders on front of her relaxed a bit, she asked, “Is it overwhelming? Like how the colours were too much?” She immediately knew she'd landed on something when she felt the thighs beneath her tense.

“Yes,” Wednesday mumbled into her elbows. “It’s... It's too many feelings.”

“OK,” soothed Enid. She kept her hands moving, even though she thoroughly massaged the ointment into the reddened flesh. “Are there any you can identify? Like any that are bigger than the others?”

Wednesday kept her face hidden in her arms as she considered, eyes open in the warm half light. She needed more space in her head. “Can you stop, please?” she asked. Immediately the hands left her buttock. She relaxed a bit as Enid just breathed gently. She could feel the expansion of her lungs rocking her slightly where she sat over her thighs. The rhythm was soothing, and the soft noise was enough to prevent all her thoughts clamouring for attention at once. 

“I'm stuck.” She explained quietly, turning her head to talk into the crook of her left arm. “I'm stuck here until someone decides to kick me out. And then I'll be stuck in prison.”

Enid stayed still. Listening. She continued to breathe, watching the set of her roommate's posture. A big inhale expanded the slender frame below her before being expelled in a long sigh. 

“I feel like I'm destined to fail,” Wednesday continued, “but I'm... I'm afraid to accept it and serve my sentence. I don't want to spend four years in a cell.”

Enid shifted a little. “I’m not going to lie; that sounds hard. And scary. But it's brave too. To try is the bravest thing you can do. You’ve got until the end of this year before you have to prove anything to anyone. That’s eight months away. We have so much time before then.”

“If you haven’t given up on me by then. I know I’m not your ideal roommate, let alone your… whatever I’m meant to be to you,” Wednesday mumbled into her arms. 

Enid got up, moving to kneel next to the bed, eye to eye with the blushing brunette, who glanced away, uncomfortable in the vulnerability she was displaying.

“Hey. Please look at me,” coaxed the blonde softly, nodding when their eyes locked. “I know we only just met, literally just got thrown together, but you need to know – I’m not a quitter. I won’t give up on you. I think you’ve already shown you can do this. Look at where you are now compared to yesterday. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I can see that you’ve already extended so much trust to me, and I can see how hard that is for you. I can also see that you’re able to grow. You’ve proved that already. And I will help you. For as long as you’ll let me.”

Wednesday searched Enid's gaze, expecting to see pity or deception. She found neither, instead the blue eyes held hers with an earnest intensity, a promise delivered without words. 

“OK.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday woke with a start as someone poked her shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry,” exclaimed Enid. “I tried to call you but you weren’t moving. Your alarm’s been going off but you were zonko!”

Wednesday groaned as the blonde stepped back. She was usually an early riser but she felt like she needed another few hours. “Wha’ time’s it?” she muttered.

“Not too late. You have time to shower before breakfast.”

Wednesday sighed, nodded – to herself or Enid, she wasn’t sure – and got up. She was shower ready, pyjamas apparently constituting clothing that was a privilege, so she grabbed her caddy and sloped from the room.

On her return, Enid was hovering in the centre of the room. As she dressed in her uniform, Enid cleared her throat.

“So there are a few things we need to talk about. First, I think we need to set parameters about when I’m your roommate and when I’m your Mistress. I think it will help both of us. In public, I think you should always treat me as your Mistress. In here we can be a bit more flexible. I was thinking that in the mornings it can wait until after you've showered, and in the evening, we could try a time limit. Like 7pm? And if we need to keep it up for longer I’ll tell you. Does that sound fair?”

Wednesday considered as she pulled her blouse on. “Yes, Mistress,” she answered. “Thank you, Mistress.” Having clear boundaries was something Wednesday could appreciate, even if she found herself crossing them more often than not. At least she would know when she was misbehaving.

“Great!” Enid beamed. “Ok, so the next thing is that I requested a meeting with the Head Mistress. For my, uh, punishment.” Her face dropped at the thought. “She’ll send for us when she wants us.” 

Wednesday watched, waiting to see if she was expected to reply. When Enid’s eyes shot to her, she nodded; “Yes, Mistress.”

Enid smiled again before letting her expression turn more serious. “So that leads on to the last thing, which is whether you feel you need a punishment, and why you’ve made whatever decision you choose. Have you had a chance to think about it?”

Wednesday, now dressed, moved to stand in her ‘ready’ position – legs slightly spread and hands behind her back. This question had been heavy on her mind through her ablutions. “Yes, Mistress. I– I believe my actions do warrant a correction.” She licked her lips nervously. “I apologise for altering the window without consulting you. I didn’t think about how my actions would impact you.” She shifted her eyes to look at said window as she spoke, fighting the urge to drop her head and hide behind her fringe.

“Thank you for saying it. And I accept your apology.” Enid hummed thoughtfully. “I don't know if a spanking or edging are appropriate now, especially so far after the event. Why don't we ask the Head Mistress if she can think of a suitable correction when we see her?”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.” Wednesday hunched her shoulders a touch, anticipating the inevitable loss of privilege that was likely to be her fate.

Classes at Nevermore were much like anywhere else, if you removed the occasional nudity and the potential to be called into a small torture chamber for transgressions. 

As Enid had explained during her tour, the campus itself was split across two detached wings, one housing the male students and the other female. Gender identity was down to each student to determine, and those who were neither male nor female could choose which facilities they used. Inclusion was championed at the school, but the infrastructure predated modern ideals. The segregation was traditionally a futile way to police non-authorised sexual activities. The new administration was less concerned with that and granted privileges that enabled fraternisation.

A central hub – called The Hub by some imaginative architect – housed shared amenities, including the administration suites, mixed dining rooms (for students with the privilege to use them), non-gendered dorms and a large hall for assemblies and events. The classrooms were adjacent to the Hub, but were still within the segregated parts of the school, which meant that Wednesday shared a dress code with all of her classmates.

Enid had elected to forgo the leash this morning, for which Wednesday was grateful, although she seen her Mistress put the tether in her blazer pocket before leaving the dorm. She hoped she wouldn't give her cause to use it. The collar still served as a reminder of her status, so Wednesday followed her through the corridors, unthinkingly maintaining the distance the leash would have held her at. 

Enid had explained before leaving the dorm that submissives – Wednesday's role within their relationship – should be deferential to their dominants at all times. She also reminded her once again; Wednesday was bottom of the class and therefore needed to treat all of her classmates as superiors. Where she might have complained a day before, Wednesday pouted only a little, before acknowledging the instruction with a “Yes, Mistress,” through tight lips.

The first class passed without issue. The academic work was comfortably within her ability. The teacher had asked Wednesday to introduce herself at the start of the class, which she had done perfunctorily and politely. She hoped being polite would meet the expectations of her peers with regards to her status. She employed the same tactic when asked to answer a question, keeping her eyes on the teacher as she addressed her and then returning her stare to her notes.

It was during her second class that she first received an inkling of what her status might entail. Her classmates had each taken it in turn to present their findings on a piece of homework they had been set. Wednesday was naturally excused as she had not been there to receive the work. Enid had been visibly nervous but she saw Wednesday's encouraging micro-nod at a point she seemed to be struggling to articulate herself, and finished her presentation with more confidence than she started, shooting a grateful glance as she sat back down with the teacher’s praise.

The last presenter was the dark-skinned girl Wednesday had seen while being dragged through the dorm the previous evening; Bianca Barclay according to the roll-call. She knew her subject matter, delivering a concise and informative account that demonstrated she had clearly undertaken extra research. The teacher praised her greatly as she sat down with a self-satisfied air. 

“Miss Barclay, I think that warrants a reward. If you will...”

Barclay stood, looking around the room before marching to stand in front of Wednesday, looking down at her condescendingly. “I’ll stick with tradition, Miss Thornhill. Let the bottom service the top. Addams, let’s go.”

Wednesday looked up, before shooting a glance to Enid, unsure what was happening, before rising slowly to her feet.

“Miss Thornhill!” Enid called from beside her, hand raised straight in the air.

“Yes, Miss Sinclair?”

“Please, miss. I think Wednesday should be excused her duties for today. She’s... she isn’t used to the way we do things yet. There should be a note on her file...”

“Wait, Miss Barclay.” The red-haired teacher called, typing into her laptop. “I see. Very well. Bianca, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to work with Miss Addams, but for today please pick someone else. Miss Addams, return to your seat.”

“Yes, Miss Thornhill,” Wednesday replied demurely, unwilling to push her luck after the apparent reprieve.

For her part, Bianca looked annoyed, rounding on Enid. “Maybe you want to go in her place, Sinclair?”

“Yes, Bianca,” Enid said brightly as she rose to her feet, glancing at Wednesday with a small encouraging smile. Just as she started to follow the other girl towards the red room, a knock rapped on the door and an older woman walked in.

“Apologies, Miss Thornhill. Enid Sinclair and Wednesday Addams to the Head Mistress’ office.”

Bianca let out an exasperated sigh as the two quickly picked up their satchels and left.

“Come in,” called the Head Mistress in response to Enid's somewhat timid knock on the door. Wednesday followed her Mistress into the room and mimicked her position, standing slightly behind her roommate as was her place, for now. Weems regarded them appraisingly. 

“Enid. Wednesday. I'd rather hoped to have to wait a bit longer before seeing you both in here. Now, how might I help you today?”

Enid cleared her throat nervously. “Sorry to bother you, Head Mistress. I, uh. We...” She sighed out a calming breath before trying again. “I need to request a punishment from you. Yesterday I became angry and started a punishment on Wednesday without checking in.”

Weems steepled her fingers together over her desk, leaning forwards. “I see. Wednesday; are you alright, my dear?”

“Yes, Head Mistress.”

The principal raised a knowing eyebrow. “And what did you do to infuriate your Mistress?”

Wednesday looked at a spot beside Weems’ ear, not quite able to meet her stare. “I acted without considering how it would affect her, Head Mistress. I made changes to the dorm without consulting her.”

Weems sat back, the leather chair creaking as she did so. “I see.” She looked back to Enid. “I'm not sensing any tension between you. Tell me how you resolved the issue.”

“We talked, Head Mistress. About how Wednesday's actions upset me, and about why she acted without talking to me first. We both apologised. Yoko helped calm things down,” Enid replied earnestly. 

Weems nodded encouragingly. “And what resolutions did you agree?”

“That I would come to you for a punishment for failing to check in on my submissive, Head Mistress. And Wednesday feels she needs a correction too. I thought that the moment had passed for a punishment, so we agreed to ask you.”

Wednesday resisted the urge to squirm as Weems cast an appraising glance towards her. “I notice you already have a new accessory, Wednesday. As neither of you have mentioned it, I'm assuming it's unrelated, but I’d like to know why you’re wearing it, and what you are looking to correct.”

“The– the collar is a reminder that I'm not in charge, Head Mistress. The correction for yesterday is to think about consequences before I act. I recognise it is one of my more significant weaknesses.” She looked down as she uttered the hard truth, realising now that it was the very reason she was in this situation to begin with. 

“Well done, Wednesday,” said Weems softly. “That is remarkably self-aware, and I'm proud you've come to recognise it so quickly.” Weems stood and moved to a cupboard to one side of the room, pulling something out. From the corner of her eye, Wednesday watched with dismay as the principal returned with a set of shiny, silvery chains which she deposited on the desk as she returned to her seat. 

“Enid. Have you got the key to the collar?” Weems asked.

“Yes, Head Mistress.”

“Very well, remove it and replace it with these. It's alright - they're titanium, not silver,” Weems reassured.

Despite the impending surrender of her freedom, Wednesday had a well overdue moment of clarity as Enid acknowledged and stepped behind her to remove the leather collar. Enid was a werewolf! Suddenly the ease with which she'd been manhandled made sense. 

She watched her Mistress as she stepped to the desk and picked up the metal restraints. Looking at her with the new knowledge, she could see a sharpness in her eyes and a chiselling of her cheeks that, in hindsight, were hints of her lycanthropic nature. She was pulled from her observation when those somewhat predatory eyes met hers apologetically.

Enid reached up to her neck, enclosing it with a metal collar that was cool on her skin. She flinched involuntarily, so Enid shushed her gently as she fiddled with what must be the lock on the side of the band, the sound of metal clicking together uncomfortably close under her ear. 

When she moved her hand away, the first thing Wednesday noticed was how heavy this collar was, pulling the cold metal against her nape and causing goosebumps to break out over her shoulders and arms. She shivered helplessly.

“Hey? You OK?” Enid asked, her blue eyes only inches from Wednesday's, radiating concern. 

“Yes, Mistress. It's just cold. Sorry, Mistress.”

“It's OK. If any of this is too much, you can tell me, OK?”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.”

“Colour?”

“Green, Mistress.”

“Good girl. OK, I need your hands.” Enid took a step back and Wednesday looked down to watch as she brought her hands from behind her. The werewolf gently grasped her right hand, encircling the wrist in another cool metal band. The band was a little under an inch wide, with an o-ring attached at the inner wrist. The shackle clicked closed, around her wrist, locking into place. An apparent key hole was visible over the lock mechanism. A chain hung from the o-ring, secured with a d-shackle. 

Enid lowered her hand to her side before taking her left hand and locking it into the other cuff. Wednesday felt strangely detached through the process, watching as an observer. 

As Enid lowered her hand she properly looked at her new restraints. Each of her wrists were connected to a central o-ring that hung from the collar with another length of chain. The central anchor point hung at about navel height. The chains to her wrists fell down in an arc, to the tops of her thighs, indicating she had a fair range of movement available. She would be able to carry out most tasks, though the weight of the shackles was noticeable. 

Enid stepped back to her original position, facing Weems, who met Wednesday's vulnerable stare.

“I'm sure this must be uncomfortable, with your history of legal entanglements. It is not my intention to echo that, but to remind you that your actions carry consequences. Ultimately your actions might have led you to a far more severe loss of freedom; they still might. Let this serve as a reminder that your impulsivity can and will cause harm to you and others. Learning restraint is what will ultimately set you free.”

Wednesday swallowed, shifting a little which caused the chains to chime softly. “Yes, Head Mistress.”

“For your correction, I'm revoking the privilege of unfettered freedom. Unless such freedom is necessary to undertake a required activity, you will remain shackled until the privilege is reinstated, which will be when I determine you no longer need the reminder to employ restraint.” She looked at Wednesday expectantly. 

“Yes, Head Mistress. Thank you, Head Mistress.”

“Enid, you may use your discretion with when to remove the restraints to allow Wednesday to carry out an activity. Sleep is one such activity. However, she should be wearing them at all other times.”

“Yes, Head Mistress.”

“Now. I believe Enid is also in need of a correction. Wednesday, do you understand why Enid has asked for a punishment?”

Wednesday instinctively went to pull her hands behind her in the position she was becoming accustomed to, only for the chains to tighten about her torso as she moved her arms backwards. It threw her momentarily, and she allowed her arms to fall straight before looking back up at Weems. “For, for not checking in before a punishment, Head Mistress.” 

“And do you know why that is a concern?” prompted the principal.

“...No. Head Mistress.”

“Enid, please explain your reasoning. You can address Wednesday directly.”

Enid turned to face her submissive, noticing the tension in her shoulders as she fought to keep from fidgeting in her new restraints. She resisted the urge to reach out, not sure if it would be welcome or appropriate. Instead she looked at Wednesday, who avoided staring directly back, looking slightly below her eyeline. 

“Checking in before a punishment is really important,” Enid explained. “It makes sure that the person being punished is in the right frame of mind to receive a punishment. If they aren't, it won't work as a corrective measure and it might cause serious harm. So the check-in makes sure that they know what they did wrong, why they're being punished and that they are mentally ready to receive it. Wednesday–”

Wednesday looked up, meeting Enid's serious blue eyes as she continued.

“–I'm sorry I didn't check in with you. If I had, I would have realised you were feeling vulnerable, and I wouldn't have treated you like that.” Wednesday couldn't hold the gaze, dropping her stare to Enid's navel, until a hand gently brought her chin up to meet the sincere azure orbs again. 

“I swear, that if I get to continue as your Mistress, that won't happen again. I will check-in with you, not just before a punishment, but before and after classes, and any activity we do together.”

Wednesday blinked under the intense gaze, swallowing nervously until Weems spoke. Enid dropped her hand away and turned to face the desk.

“Wednesday, do you feel like you can trust Enid after yesterday's events?”

“Yes, Head Mistress. I do,” she responded without hesitation. 

“Very well. After this punishment, Enid will resume her role as your tutor and Mistress. However, should she prove to be neglectful of your needs in any way, that privilege will be revoked. Is that satisfactory?”

“Yes, Head Mistress,” the pair replied in stereo.

“Excellent. Now, Enid, bent over on the desk.”

Enid didn't hesitate, moving to the desk and exposing her behind for Wednesday to see in an echo of the position Wednesday had been in roughly 24 hours previously.

“Wednesday, as the wronged party, you may give Enid as many strokes as you think are warranted. Be sure to tell her how many and check she understands the punishment.” 

Wednesday found herself unable to respond as her mouth suddenly became dry at the thought of reversing roles with her Mistress. She shifted uncomfortably. Weems softened her imperious stare.

“Are you alright to deliver the punishment, my dear? You can use your safeword even in this situation should you need to.”

Wednesday, cleared her throat. “No. I can do it, Head Mistress. I'm green.”

She stepped up behind Enid, looking down at the pink globes of her buttocks. 

“M– Enid. Do you understand what this punishment is for?” she breathed.

“Yes, Wednesday,” responded the wolf, “I didn’t check in with you before starting a punishment. It was unforgivable and as your Mistress I need to be better. I apologise.”

Wednesday flushed, uncertain how to respond. She had never pictured herself delivering such intimate flogging. Whips and chains against the cowardly and deserving were more of the Addams’ modus operandi , rather than consensual spanking of unclothed, intimate areas. Weems must have seen her hesitation.

“Thank you, Enid. Now, Wednesday, how many strikes do you think would be fair? Bear in mind Enid has experience in receiving this type of punishment. The severity of this infraction would seem heavier than your combined transgressions of yesterday.”

“I... I don’t know, Head Mistress.” Wednesday, usually so self-assured and confident, found that she didn’t have anything to draw on. She had experienced but a single spanking and it had awakened something in her in just ten strokes. What power did she hold now? “I... I don't have any parameters to make a judgement.” She shifted uncomfortably, her shackles jangling. It seemed like whatever punishment would be limited anyway, with her reduced freedom.

“Very well,” acquiesced the principal. “I appreciate your candour in admitting that. Well done. Enid? How many strokes do you think is fair?”

“Um. Twenty? Head Mistress? That’s double what I gave to Wednesday yesterday.”

“Very well. Wednesday, give Enid twenty of your finest. We’ll start with your hand, but you can use a paddle if it becomes painful. You’ll want to cup your hand a bit to start. Alternate between her left and right cheeks with each stroke. Aim for a glancing blow on the meat of Enid’s buttocks. Enid, count and thank Wednesday for each blow.”

“Yes, Head Mistress,” they echoed again. 

Wednesday moved to stand over her roommate. Timidly, she drew her hand back before realising the restraints about her wrists were going to impact how much force she could deliver. There was also the possibility that the chains or shackle might hit her roommate and cause more harm than a simple slap. She looked up to Weems. “Head Mistress, I’m not sure if I can do it safely with the restraints on.”

Weems smiled widely and warmly. “Excellent observation, Wednesday. I admit, that was a test. It would seem you’re already learning to think before you act. Well done. Enid, rest assured I would have halted the punishment had Wednesday not done so. You may release Wednesday’s dominant hand, and then return to your position.”

Enid pulled a key from her pocket and did so with an affirmative, giving Wednesday a quick smile as she undid the shackle. Wednesday regained her pose over the prostrated form of her Mistress. 

“Mistress, are you ready?”

“Yes, Wednesday. Thank you Wednesday.”

“Alright. Let me know if it's incorrect, Mi- Enid. And I'll stop if you use a safeword.”

Taking a breath, Wednesday lined her hand up before striking the pink orb below her with a slap. Enid didn't flinch, breezily stating,  “One. Thank you, Wednesday.”

Wednesday alternated each cheek as instructed, delivering ten spanks which were each easily counted by the wolf. Frustratingly, despite her effort, the wolf didn't seem ruffled as she had been when taking her licks from Weems, even though Wednesday upped the strength she was delivering each blow with considerably, resulting in her hand becoming sore and redder than the arse she was striking. 

At the tenth, Weems cleared her throat. “Excellent, Wednesday. As you can see, lycan fortitude can be rather frustrating. I'd recommend you check in with Enid. If she is still green, you might want to make her feel the impact a little more. Try running your nails over the red areas. Bringing more blood to the surface will increase the sensitivity.”

Obediently, Wednesday checked Enid's status - “Green, Wednesday” - before dragging her nails over the flesh of Enid's arse. Finally the wolf squirmed, gasping at the sensation and hissing between clenched teeth. 

“Excellent. Wednesday, for a longer punishment it's worth having the subject repeat their errors. You can ask for eye contact, or ensure it for yourself. Also, you can use this to save your palm.” Weems slid a rigid leather paddle over the desk. “Same principle as the hand. A glancing blow.”

Wednesday took the paddle, checking in with her Mistress as instructed. Enid looked a little apprehensive as she parroted her transgressions, resuming the position when bidden.

Hefting the paddle, Wednesday resumed, striking the left buttock in front of her with a meaty thwap! Enid jolted at the impact grunting before resuming her count. “Eleven. Thank you, Mistress.” Oh. Wednesday felt something flutter as the wolf erroneously titled her. Flushing, she delivered another blow. 

By the fifteenth strike, Enid was clearly experiencing significant discomfort, gasping out the count and struggling to relax herself as she had so advised the previous day. Remembering the feeling of Enid's gentle caress between the punishing blows, Wednesday shifted the paddle to her other hand, smoothing her palm over the blazing bum cheeks.

“Well done, Enid. Just five more to go. Can you manage that?”

“Y- Yes, Mistress. I think so. Thank you.”

“Good... good girl,” Wednesday uttered, confused about why she had chosen to do so. Once Enid had calmed and relaxed, she finished the spanking, going slightly easier and getting through the last few strikes quickly. As Enid sniffled her last thanks with tears rolling down her cheeks, Wednesday placed the paddle back on the desk. “Well done, Enid. I forgive you for yesterday. Head Mistress, might I take Enid for aftercare?” She gazed at the older woman, trying to ignore the almost insurmountable need to tend to her roommate.

“Of course, Wednesday. Well done. But just one thing? I see from Miss Thornhill that Enid stepped in earlier to see to your duties as bottom. I approve of her doing so given your inexperience, but know she won't be able to do so much longer. For your homework, I would recommend discovering for yourself where your limits might lie, and how to perform the duties expected of you. You're going to need to learn quickly, or let me know if that is going to be a problem for you.”

“Yes, Head Mistress.”

With that Weems dismissed them, after making Enid reapply the shackle to Wednesday's wrist. Enid walked stiffly, flinching when the material of her skirt brushed over her reddened flesh. She glanced at Wednesday where she was walking somewhat meekly to the side and a half step behind, her chains clanking with each step. 

“Just so you know, I realise that you eased up at the end there. While I appreciate the sentiment, don’t go easy on me. I wanted the punishment. I would have used my safeword if I needed it,” explained the wolf patiently and without ardor. 

“Yes, Mistress. Sorry, Mistress.” Wednesday kept her gaze low. She wasn't sure how she was feeling and was looking forward to some time to reflect. The concern she had experienced for Enid was unprecedented in someone she had only just met. The closest she could compare was the protectiveness she felt towards her brothers. She also loathed the feeling of being visibly marked by the obvious chains. The collar had been humiliating enough, but this was much more embarrassing. She dreaded her next class, aware that she would jangle with every movement of her pen. 

They arrived to their dorm easily, as class was still in session. As they crossed the threshold, Wednesday relaxed somewhat, the space starting to feel like a sanctuary. She turned to face her roommate, who was shifting uncomfortably after her punishment. 

“May I apply the ointment, Mistress?”

Enid looked at her, a faint surprise in her expression, before she nodded, moving to pull it from her vanity. She moved to her bed, placing it on the night stand before removing her skirt and laying on her stomach. 

Wednesday padded over, lifting the lid from the ointment and settling herself over Enid's thighs, as the wolf had done the previous evening. 

“I don't know if there is a ritual to this, Mistress,” she mused as she prepared to work the cool gel into the hot flesh. 

Enid turned back to look at her. “I'm OK. It's an emotional check in, but I feel like you might need to talk about it. And that's valid. Both parties need to be able to reflect. So, when you're ready, tell me what you're thinking. I'll just listen. Ok?” She smiled warmly over her shoulder. 

Wednesday nodded once. “Yes, Mistress.” She loaded the unguent onto her fingers. Taking a breath, she reached out to the blazing flesh. As she made contact, a bolt coursed up her arm, across her spine and into her mind. Her back arched and her eyes rolled into her head as she seized, darkness taking her vision as she slumped forwards.

Chapter Text

She pushed the door open, bouncing with excitement, to reveal her big brother, gaping up at her from the floor where he was rummaging in his school bag. She caught a glimpse of clear plastic before he hastily shoved whatever it was into the pack and zipped it closed. “Enid! What are you- Why are you here?”

“Billy? What are you doing?”

“Nothing! It doesn’t matter!”

She glimpsed down, spotting a tiny little plastic bag with what looked like dried herbs in it.

“What is that ?” she asked, pointing.

Billy snatched it up, hiding it in his hand.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ok. D’you wanna play Mario Kart? Mom and Dad are at that pack thing!”

Billy grinned at her. “Yeah, okay pup. Lemme just clear this stuff up. You wanna go turn on the TV?”

She nodded happily, turning to do so.

“Oh, Eenie? Don’t tell Mom or Dad about this, ok?”

“Ok!”

*************

Stepping off the school bus, she was confused. Why were there police cars in the drive? She walked up to the side door, letting herself into the kitchen. “I’m home! Mom? Dad?”

She stood – hearing the sound of adult voices from the den. Quietly she crossed the hall, peering around the corner into the living area, There were two cops with their backs to her. She watched as one of them reached to his belt, pulling a shiny pair of cuffs out.

“Mom! Please! I didn’t mean it!” Billy was crying. He never cried. 

Feeling brave, she stepped out to protect her brother. “Hey!”

Strong arms wrapped her into a hug, and she smelt the cedarwood and dust she associated with her father. “Hey pup, let’s go upstairs.” He lifted her up into his arms,turning and taking her up the stairs. As she was cradled, she watched over his shoulder as the two police escorted her brother, hands now cuffed behind him, through the door towards the waiting cars.

*************

“William Sinclair, you have been found guilty on all charges, I hereby sentence you to eighteen months detention.”

Crack! The sound of the gavel made her jump as she watched through tear-blurred eyes as her big brother – her champion, was taken from the stand, casting a longing glance over his shoulder and giving her a tight smile as he was led away.

“Oh my god!” Enid squirmed out from under the rigid form of her roommate as the other girl seized up and collapsed on top of her. “Wednesday!” She shoved the prone woman on the shoulder, trying to rouse her. She only succeeded in pushing her forcefully towards the edge of the bed, grabbing at her as she threatened to topple onto the floor. 

Frantically, she pulled her onto her lap, manhandling her to face upright. Wednesday’s eyes were rolled entirely into her skull, only white and little red veins visible. Her spine was tightly constricted, so she was looking upwards like a religious nutjob, her hands reaching out in front of her as if in supplication.

“Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!” Enid looked around desperately. Should she call an ambulance? Oh wait! Was Wednesday even breathing?!?!?! A small gasp and a twitch partly reassured her that she wasn’t dead, but she might still be dying! Right???!?!?!? Shit!!!!

“Shit!” Oh wait! Infirmary! There was the infirmary! “It’s Ok! I’m gonna get you help!” she assured her unconscious roommate, scooping her up and turning to sprint from the room. She was halfway across the quad when Wednesday started, suddenly struggling in her arms. Enid nearly dropped her in surprise before grasping her tightly, not wanting to send them toppling to the grass.

“Whoa! Wednesday! It’s OK. I’ve got you! Stop– stop struggling!”

The dark eyes moved from side-to-side searchingly before focusing back on Enid, narrowing sharply. “Unhand me!”

Enid frowned but didn’t release her roommate, moving to continue their journey. “You’ve just had a massive seizure. I’m taking you to the infirmary. No arguments.”

Wednesday struggled futilely but was unable to free herself from the strong embrace encircling her. She sighed, looking away as she muttered, “It wasn’t a seizure. It was a vision. I’m a psychic.”

Enid stilled. “A vision? Like, of the future?”

“The past actually.”

“Oh. Neat! Like psychometry?”

Wednesday looked up at her, obviously surprised by her knowledge.

“What? You think I don't read?” Enid raised a teasing eyebrow. “Also though, we have to cover basic outcast types as one of the classes. We started with psychics.”

Wednesday nodded. “I suppose it is like psychometry. I’ve only experienced a couple of visions, but they have both been activated by touch, and both were visions of the past. But there’s no need for medical attention. We can return to the dorm.”

“Nah-ah. I want you to get checked out. Also though, we need to log it with the infirmary so they know that it can happen. They’ll add it to your file with notes on what to do if you have another one.”

“Very well. Can I at least walk?”

Enid looked down at her, eyebrow arched sassily. “If you’re feeling so normal, maybe you should remember your manners?”

Wednesday sighed. “May I please walk, Mistress?”

Enid stopped before gently lowering Wednesday to her feet. The other girl stood straight, no apparent ill affect from her vision. Enid nodded, before stepping forward to lead her charge to the medical centre.

“Um, Mistress? You are aware you’re not wearing a skirt?”

Finally, many hours later, they returned to the dorm. After an infirmary visit that featured all manner of intrusive prodding and poking, including saliva, urine and blood samples for mandatory STI screening – “The details are all in the Handbook, Miss Addams” – and a relentless barrage of questions about her power and entire medical history, they had been allowed to leave just in time for afternoon classes. 

Enid had to forgo returning to the dorm for her skirt, meaning she was forced to sit on her blazer in order to avoid her tender flesh sticking to the varnished wooden chairs. To her credit, she did not seem fazed to be sat through lessons whilst naked from the waist down, doing nothing to hide her magnificent golden bush. In turn, no one seemed to pay any heed to her immodesty. 

Meanwhile, Wednesday had to endure the obviously derisive stares of her classmates with her new accessories. Bianca had raised her eyebrow to a perfect arch and smirked as she clattered to her seat, the damned chains catching on the edge of the desk as she settled. It took some time before she found a suitable method for keeping the shackles taught enough that every pen stroke wasn’t a crescendo. It was infuriating and demeaning. 

By the time they returned to the dorm, both girls had run out of patience for the day. Enid suggesting they get a carry out from the canteen on the way up had seemed like a stroke of genius, and so they quietly ate at their respective desks while a calm and comfortable silence permeated the space. 

“Mistress?” Enid looked over as Wednesday neatly sat in her chair as they finished their meals. “Would it be alright if I put on some music and then apply your ointment? I’m aware I did a poor job earlier of providing the appropriate aftercare.”

Enid glanced over to the large gramophone that they had placed against one of the brick pillars that supported the roof. “Oh my gosh! Yeah, I’ve been dying to know how it works! But hey, you don't need to apologise for earlier, and it’s super sweet of you to offer. Thank you. I’d really like that.”

Wednesday stiffened at the compliment, a slightly uncomfortable set to her shoulders, but moved to select a record from her trunk, muttering, “You’re welcome, Mistress,” over her shoulder as she crossed the room. She placed the disc on the apparatus, engaging the needle. Low strings rang out, slowly rising and falling. Immediately the tension in the psychic’s shoulder’s loosened. The sweeping strings continued, and for a moment Wednesday merely stood, her eyes closing as she let the music permeate through her. 

“Wow,” Enid exclaimed softly. “Beautiful. What is it?”

“Elgar’s Cello Concerto in E Minor.” Wednesday opened her eyes to glance at her mistress.

“The cello? That’s what’s in that giant violin case right? Can you play this?”

Wednesday nodded. “It was the first piece I learned to play all the way through. I find it calming.”

“Yeah. I see that.” The wolf smiled softly. “I immediately feel more relaxed. Would you mind if I listened to you sometime?”

Wednesday shrugged, lifting her bound wrists morosely. “That depends if it’s a required activity.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. But if you want to play, I’ll take them off. I don't think Head Mistress Weems means to stop you from doing things that are good for you. Like, it seems like something that would help you, so I don't think she’d want to take that away. She’s not trying to punish you. You do know that, right?”

Wednesday shrugged again. “I know she and my parents think this is what I need. But for me, it’s still a sentence to serve. Although I’d rather be here than in the Garden State Youth Correctional Facility. At least here I’ll get an education. And I’m fairly certain that my cellmate isn’t more of a hardened criminal than I am.” The tiniest hint of a smirk played at the corner of her mouth for a fraction of a second before it disappeared, and she moved towards Enid, who was staring at her with her mouth slightly open. “Now, shall I apply the ointment?”

The aftercare had gone quickly and quietly, both girls content to lose themselves in the soothing strings that filled their space. It was only when the record ended that Wednesday stirred from where she had been idly massaging the flaming cheeks of her mistress. Almost robotically she moved to replace the record in its sleeve. Once it was safely ensconced in its home, she turned back to regard Enid, who was still sprawled face down and skirtless on her bed. Wednesday shifted awkwardly, wringing her hands in front of her and agitating the manacles so they clunked together softly.

“Mistress? I– I... uh” Wednesday stammered, uncharacteristically nervous about what she needed to ask, moreso for the vulnerability she needed to display. “I need to ask you something.”

Enid sat up, turning to face her suddenly awkward roommate. “Yes, Wednesday?” Enid smiled encouragingly. The shorter girl mouthed uselessly a few times, prompting Enid to rise to meet her, taking a soft hold of her hands to stop the shaky fidgeting.

Blood rushed up to Wednesday’s cheeks at the touch; after all that had been said and done, it would be a soft touch to undo her. She averted her gaze from the soft azure in front of her, instead looking down at where coloured claws encapsulated her pale fingers. Steeling herself with a shaky breath, she screwed her eyes shut.

“I need your help.” She uttered, letting her eyes fall open and glancing quickly at the patient expression in front of her. “Head Mistress Weems was right. I need to know how to... how to perform my duties. As-” she swallowed thickly, the uncomfortable acknowledgment sticking in her throat. “As a subordinate. And to understand what... what I can’t do.”

Enid smiled softly. Even without looking, Wednesday could feel the warmth and understanding from the other girl.

“Hey. I’m super proud of you right now. You don't need to be ashamed about asking for help. It’s not a weakness – it’s a strength. Of course I’ll help.” She tugged at the now steady hands, drawing them both back to her bed.

“Okay let’s start at the beginning. So, it’s really important to remember you can set your limits whenever you want. We can look at the handbook again and talk about what you might not be comfortable with, ok?” 

Wednesday nodded, surprised to find that she was grateful she had someone to guide her through this. So much of her life had been a competition with herself to be better, learn faster, be independent. To have someone to act as a tutor – a mentor – was new, but not wholly unwelcome.

“So, when it comes to serving a superior, what’s expected in short is anything the dom requests. They will respect limits, and you have to respect theirs as well, but in my experience it is often pleasuring them or submitting yourself to their whims. I know the submitting part is a learning curve for you, but you don't mean that right?”

Wednesday nodded softly. “I... it’s just everything is completely new. It’s one thing to have... stuff... done to me, but I find myself entirely lost when it comes to the carnal requirements of other people. There are no classes or books on how to do this; it doesn’t come with instructions.”

”Oh!” Enid blushed, a surprising reaction after all the bravado she usually displayed. “Well, uh, maybe I can teach you? We can just be Enid and Wednesday, so there’s no weird power dynamic. Or at least so it’s not you actually submitting, just, um, learning between friends. Oh my god Enid shut up! ” This last part was said under her breath. Somehow seeing her roomate and erstwhile mistress so flustered put Wednesday at ease. The blush covering her face could be explained away by the heating being much warmer than she liked it. Yes, that must be it.

”Yes, please!” Wednesday responded too quickly, making an attempt to reel it back. “I mean yes, that would be satisfactory. A study session between roommates is habitual in these institutions, correct?”

”Mm-hm.” Enid's affirmation came with the tiniest smile. “Okay, so  what would you like to start with?”

Wednesday threw her a blank look, she did mean it when she said she knew nothing. She had never masturbated until a few short days ago, during her very first punishment and reward; never kissed; never touched anyone else for that matter. She wasn’t necessarily opposed to physical intimacy, but nobody had captured her interest enough to debase herself to human touch. “I don’t know... anything. Everything.”

”Oh-kay. Mm, I think most people – you know outside of what we have here – would start by kissing, but we don’t need to do that, so uhh. Petting?”

”Petting?” What a bizarre way to start, but who was she to say anything after all. So she reached her hand out and patted Enid on the head just like she would often do for Kitty. Although if Enid’s pause and bewildered look were anything to go by she must have been doing something wrong. The fit of giggles all but confirmed it.

Wednesday retracted her hand “If you are going to laugh me out of the bedroom I may just search for another study aide,” she bit out waspishly.

”Noooo, no! I’m sorry, you didn’t do bad. My fault, sorry - I didn't explain. Can I show you instead?” The blonde scooted forward and started caressing Wednesday, first one hand down the side of her face, slowly trailing down her neck to her arm. Her other hand snuck behind her and pulled her closer until their noses brushed together. Enid’s soft breaths fanned over her lips, spreading a strange warmth all though her body. 

Her hands felt scorching against her uniform, the fabric doing nothing to protect her from the flames that were surely coursing her veins.

”Okay you try, usually you would pet more, touch them; maybe undress them if it is okay...”

Nobody could say Wednesday Addams slacked in her studies, no matter the course. In this moment Enid’s body became her newest obsession, or more accurately; revived it. Werewolves had always been a favourite of hers.

Her hands tentatively found Enid’s face, mimicking the caresses given and even going so far as to ghost her lips across her cheek and down her throat. “Oh ooh, bold moves,” came her breathy response. In that moment she decided she did like touch, or at least she liked it in that particular moment.

The concept was easy enough, pet someone, or rather caress them, not like Kitty but more like an act of worship. Now that she had the example it wasn’t hard for her to apply it. This was a game she could win.

Her hands traced every inch of the girl beneath her, noticing how her breathing became heavier after a bit. Enid had never bothered to put her skirt back on and as her legs parted a glint of moisture peeked through. She was wet, and all because of Wednesday.

Wednesday trailed her hands down and parted her legs fully, admiring the wet spot that had formed under her roomate. “Wednesday” She sighed softly. “Do you want to try the next step?” An eager nod as words seemed to escape her. “Take my clothes off?” The ferality she exhibited when diving towards that ridiculous little vest and the two buttons that held their meagre excuse of a shirt together should be noted down for posterity. The giggle Enid let out when Wednesday basically toppled onto her would be engraved into her mind forevermore.

And those sinful hands upon her back, pulling at her clothes. Manacles forgotten, the light clinking fading into their labored breathing.

Finally Enid lay bare under her, pale skin accented in pink. She had never seen a sight more enticing than the girl that lay beneath her right then and there.

“Oh-kay, usually people will also kiss and sometimes suck on the skin.”

“Hickeys. Yes I am regretfully aware of their existence”

“Well yes, hickeys, but also just kissing and sucking doesn't have to reach hickey territory. Like uhh, it can just be for stimulation you know. Wait let me…” At this she pulled Wednesday in by her chain and buried her face into the crook of her neck. Warmth spread from where her tender lips made contact, and then she sucked and nipped behind her ear. Wednesday had never been more aroused; could she get more aroused? She struggled to see the point in anything else when this already felt so good.

“See, like that Wednesday.”

Dazed and panting, Wednesday buried her own face into the crook of Enid’s neck, kissing and biting a trail down to her chest where she paused. Enid’s pert nipples stood at attention. Reverently she lowered her face until she could feel the warmth radiating on her cheeks. As slowly as she could manage in her rush to taste, kiss and bite every inch of her roommate, she opened her mouth to take one of the beautifully rosy teats between her lips. Giving an experimental suck she earned a small broken moan. How utterly enticing; these sinful noises could certainly be reward enough. Perhaps she could talk Enid into letting her do this more often.

“Ahh Wednesday, that’s so good. Mmm the other one please?” With a wet pop she switched to the other breast. What a sight, Wednesday Addams taking orders and suggestions, voluntarily on her knees for another woman. Bizarre as it was, the instruction was quite welcome since she was very much out of her depth.

Without pause she roamed her hands down Enid’s torso, the softness of her skin startlingly welcome. Everywhere her hands ghosted, the cool chains followed, a trail of goosebumps erupting from the pale flesh where they passed. She hesitated a moment when she reached her hips, but remembered that Enid would stop her should she overstep. She pulled herself down, lamenting the loss of the nipple in her mouth but savoring the skin of Enid’s belly with every light kiss.

“For being ahh, new to this you are quite the charmer, Addams. Kisses all over? So good, baby.” She didn’t seem to realize the slip up in calling Wednesday by a pet name, however Wednesday did. She would need to address it later, after the redness in her face subsided and she could breathe normally of course.

All was forgotten as soon as her chin met the moist peak of Enid’s sex, her lips stopping right where her hair turned tawny and curled. Taking a beat to let her wild heart settle she locked eyes with Enid; crystalline blue shattered by want gazed back at her. That was all the confirmation Wednesday needed, but she still waited like an obedient sub to get the go ahead.

“Wednesday, please”

She pressed a kiss to the inside of the exquisitely wrought thigh. “Please what, Enid? I requested guidance.” The Wolf’s irises dilated even more, leaving but a small ring of that exquisite blue swallowed by darkness. Just as she herself was intending to swallow Enid’s light. “Please, don't stop!”

A minute nod was the cue for Wednesday to pull herself even lower, finally able to fully admire the wolf beneath her, dripping arousal onto the sheets. She couldn’t help but trail a single finger through rosy lips, bringing it to her lips. Decadence would never suffice to describe the taste of Enid, slightly musky and salty but somehow wholly hers.

A small broken moan sounded from above her, it seemed Enid had enjoyed the display. Making eye contact again Wednesday made sure to lick her finger as she popped it out of her mouth, stare never wavering as she lowered herself to Enid’s center. Like a predator stalking prey Wednesday slowly lowered herself until her prize was within tasting distance.

One slow long lick from top to bottom all but confirmed her suspicions, Enid indeed tasted heavenly; she would want more and soon. More slow licks seemed to do the trick. New breathless instructions had her relaxing her tongue even further, moving her head to lick at every crevice. Then the inconceivable, a hair stuck on her tongue threw her off her rhythm as she reeled back to attempt to fish it out with her fingers, humming in annoyance. 

When she managed to compose herself she realized Enid was staring at her with undisguised mirth, her hands covering her mouth not to burst out laughing.

“Spit it out, Sinclair.”

Enid snorted even harder, a little tear threatening to escape “I haha, I'm sorry that was kinda funny Wednesday. I have a trick for that if you would like to learn it?” Wednesday leered, wary of being laughed at like a common clown.

“Hmph!” Flicking the hair to the side she slid back into position, pulling Enid by the hips to lay back in position. “Please, do tell. After all, this is supposed to be a lesson.” At this most irreverent comment Enid threw one of her smaller plushies at Wednesday, managing to pull a small smirk that she hid by burying herself between her legs again.

“Don’t get, ahh, sassy with me Addams.” Good she was back to being breathy, Wednesday found herself liking her better like this than usual. “So ahh, if, if you get a hair stuck – mmm – in your tongue.”

“Yes?”

“Ah! Keep going and I’ll tell you.” Wednesday was impressed. Even now, Enid was a negotiator. They stared each other down for just a couple of seconds more before she caved and flicked her tongue out again. “Mmph, good girl.” At the phrase, the fire roiling in Wednesday's stomach erupted down, making her throb in want.

“Next time you can be subtle and lick or kiss my thigh. You won’t look like a crazy person and it’s still sexy.” Wednesday supposed the advice had some merit, she just hoped not to need it anytime soon. It wasn’t the hair in itself that had disturbed her, but the disruption of her flow certainly annoyed her. And the unexpected texture, buried in the delicious soft wetness of Enid’s folds.

Despite the silly interruption Wednesday had no trouble getting Enid back to a moaning mess underneath her. Once again Enid stepped in to instruct her to make smaller swipes of the tongue, even going as far as trying to push her head down where she wanted Wednesday to suck the most. Taking the hint, she gingerly removed the hand that threatened to tangle in her braids and started gently sucking on Enid’s clit, adding small kitten licks over it. As her roommate’s legs started to shake she braced her hands under her buttocks, raising her up to her lips. 

The wolf came undone with a deep moan, claws sharp and ready to maul. Wednesday’s name half forgotten on her tongue she closed her legs, effectively trapping the seer in a warm embrace. If she were to die right then, erotic asphyxiation by werewolf was certainly a unique and inspiring way to go, both because of the unconventional manner of suffocation and by such a deadly creature.

Wednesday slowed and widened her licks as she carried Enid through her orgasm, the legs that trapped her slowly let her go as she seemed to sap all strength from the usually hyperactive woman. What a way to calm her down.

“Mmmh, Wednesday that was so good. I think we found one of your talents,” giggled Enid, breathlessly.

“I always knew I had a skilled tongue. Usually it is used to verbally spar, however this is also a satisfactory use.” 

“Oh yeah? How are you acting so nonchalant after eating me out?” Enid observed her critically, although the effect was quite lost as she was still undressed, flushed and ever so slightly breathless. 

“Hmm maybe not so nonchalant, you smell different Wednesday.” She teased, the lilting cadence of her voice going straight to Wednesday’s core making her wiggle uncomfortably, feeling the wetness coating her inner thighs.

“I smell different? Elaborate.” Enid tsk-tsked disapprovingly, wagging her finger at her.

“Ooo, just a little while out of our roles and you forget your manners? And here I was gonna offer to eat you out as well.” The image of Enid with her face buried between her legs certainly made her feel something, she just wasn’t sure what yet; it roiled like an uncomfortable ball in her stomach. A mix of fear and arousal. 

“Wait, uh we don’t have to do that if you are uncomfortable Wednesday.” She stared at Enid for a long second, how had she known? Was Enid somehow a psychic as well as a lycan? Was that even possible? She narrowed her eyes while scrutinizing the girl.

“Enid.” 

“Hmm?.”

“Are you able to read minds?”

“Huh? Read minds? OH!” Her face lit up as if a switch had been pressed. “No, no. You are just very expressive with your body even when you're trying not to be. You looked kinda uncomfortable about me eating you out, so no pressure.”

“Oh.” Well, that certainly made more sense, although it meant she would need to try and guard her expressions from the wolf. It wasn’t like she was terribly expressive though, she wondered what gave her away as even her family had trouble reading her.

“I would feel bad leaving you high and dry, but if you don’t want me to touch you, that’s okay.” Enid’s mind seemed to be fixated on making this a balanced situation and Wednesday was not appalled by the idea of feeling the rush of climax again, but being pleasured in such a way was too far beyond the borders of her comfort zone even for her own macabre tastes.

“I would not be opposed to experiencing an orgasm. But not in the same manner as I gave it to you.”

“So formal, Addams, hehe.” She thought for a moment, getting up to look at Wednesday critically.

“Do you trust me? I have an idea that doesn’t involve my face anywhere between your legs and gives you some control. Are you up for that?” Now this piqued her curiosity. She nodded, receiving a beaming smile back.

“This is technically a reward. Doesn't feel like one with these on.” Enid scooted closer, taking off the chains and manacles, before she tentatively started petting her the same way Wednesday had done to her. Hands trailed down her neck and back, reigniting her arousal. Finally her hands reached Wednesday's hips and squeezed.

“Sit on my lap?” Wednesday found herself complying without question and soon she was sitting on Enid’s warm lap, gently cradled by delicate hands resting lightly on her hips. Shyly she looked down into the stunning blue gaze that was appraising her with open admiration.

“Mm, you are so good Wenny.” Oh! That nickname would not fly at all, and while the rest could be addressed later she simply had to remedy this butchering of her name before the evening continued.

“Don’t call me that,” she chided.

“Okay, okay, none of that, sorry,” Enid soothed. While bashful it didn’t seem like she regretted it at all. “Hmm can I undress you, Wednesday?” A nod was all it took for her eager claws to find their way under her vest and pull. She was freed from her shirt and skirt in record time as well, her thigh high socks forgotten after unclipping the garter belt. Enid leaned back to admire her for a moment, blood painting her cheeks a rosy pink akin to peach blossoms. Wednesday fought the urge to cover her chest knowing that Enid had already seen her nude, even if the context had been a bit less intimate.

“Can I touch you like you touched me? I’ll go slow.” 

“Y-yeah.” It was entirely out of character for her tongue to misbehave and stutter, and after bragging about her silver tongue too. Embarrassing was the name of the game and Wednesday was winning all the prizes, sitting naked on a gorgeous woman’s lap stuttering at a mere question. Oh how the mighty fall.

“You are so cute when you are flustered.” Enid’s smile grew predatory as she closed the distance, their noses touching and breaths mingling. Wednesday’s heart beat like a machine gun trying to escape her chest. Soft lips met her cheek, catching the corner of her own. A strangled moan escaped her as soft kisses followed the curve of her neck all the way down her chest.

Enid closed her supple lips around one of her nipples and sucked. If she had been turned on before now she was a live wire. Sharp nails trailed softly down her back until her hand was cupping her ass firmly. With a strong squeeze she pulled Wednesday even closer, shifting them both so she was sitting astride just one of Enid’s legs.

The wolf's hand shifted from her ass to play with her other breast, the other grasping at her hip. Wednesday had grabbed onto Enid’s shoulder at some point, she couldn’t recall when though. Her hand flew to grasp at pale blonde locks when Enid sucked on her nipple harder than before. She was aware in the back of her mind of the small sounds that escaped her with every squeeze and suck, however she could not ignore the cry she let out when Enid finally pulled her down and forward to grind on her leg. 

The pressure felt so good, even when the newness of the sensation almost overwhelmed her, it was grounding that she could set the pace. Slowly Enid guided her to go faster, all the while kissing over her chest and neck, taking moments where she suckled at her nipples or nibbled on her skin. It was almost like Enid was trying to play her like Wednesday played her cello.

Pressure and heat spread from her belly up, her breathing became ragged and labored as her release built up. She was acutely aware of how wet she was as she slid back and forth, leaving a trail of herself along Enid’s leg. Her orgasm surprised her, washing over her like a wave, knocking the wind out of her just as Enid bit gently into shoulder. Waves of pleasure coursed through her, making every muscle in her body shake. Enid held her as she rode the aftershocks of it, letting her hide her face in the crook of her neck and softly petting her across her shoulders and nape, running soft but firm touches along her tensing muscles until she relaxed, slumping into her warm embrace.

“Are you alright, Wednesday?”

“Hmm,” was all her turned-to-mush brain could muster.

Enid lightly chuckled as she said “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

“Mmhm.” Wednesday just let herself bask in the warmth and surprising comfort she was experiencing. There was something deeply enthralling about opening herself up to such divine worship; a power exchange she couldn't quite wrap her head around. Perhaps she could get used to this sort of touch. But on her terms of course, and maybe involving Enid’s tongue on her next time.

Chapter Text

There had been a strange awkwardness in the dorm when they awoke. Technically they were merely roommates until Wednesday had completed her ablutions, but after the events of the previous night, a level of bashfulness seemed to pervade between them. Both looked away shyly from each other’s naked bodies as they began their morning routine, making their excuses to head to the shower individually; Enid first, and Wednesday a few minutes after, meaning that she ended up holding the door open for the wolf’s reentry to the room, an awkwardly polite exchange of “Thanks”;  “You’re welcome” and curt nods further enforcing the awkward air.

On returning to the dorm, Wednesday was grateful that Enid was busy fussing with her uniform, her back to the room, allowing her to hide in the safety of her own closet as she selected her clothes from the meagre array. When she turned around having donned her attire, the now fully dressed blonde was holding her manacles out, and it was almost a relief to slip back into her role as the (not-so-) meek submissive, re-establishing a firm boundary between them as the cuffs and collar were cinched closed.

The normal order resumed as they headed to breakfast, Wednesday following a step behind her mistress. Once again Enid bade her take the tray while she selected the meals for the both of them. It was a welcome division of labour – the awkward chains were bound to fall into the dishes of the self-serve buffet. Over breakfast, now shielded under their immodest uniforms, they fell back into their roles, Enid explaining what the day's classes were and what they had covered up to that point while Wednesday listened politely, offering a low, “Yes, Mistress” at appropriate points. None of the classes seemed like they would offer her a challenge. Quite the opposite in fact.

By the third class of the day, after lunch, Wednesday was beyond bored. It was quickly becoming apparent to her that, as in every other school she had attended, the curriculum was far below the level of her own fervid self-studies. Unfortunately, most of her classmates seemed to struggle with the syllabus, almost as if they had not had the foresight to learn all they could about the history of the Normie-Outcast treaty of 1933, or the twelve (now thirteen, as she had pointed out to her less-than-grateful professor) different applications of horned toad skin in outcast medicine.

The only person in the class who seemed able to match her was Bianca Barclay, a siren who clearly enjoyed her position as Top of the Class. Every time Wednesday raised her hand, Bianca made a point of raising hers higher, unfettered as she was – something she was clearly enjoying rubbing in Wednesday’s face each time, smirking over at her as she waved her hand airily, unaccompanied by the incessant jingling that Wednesday was forced to endure. Each time Wednesday contributed, Bianca made sure to have an addendum; an action Wednesday, never one to shy away from a challenge, quickly found herself mimicking in a competition of one-upping the self-assured Top. 

By the third period their classmates would let out a collective sigh or groan whenever the professor asked a question. Even Professor Thornhill seemed to be tiring of the antics of the top and bottom students. “Could someone who is neither Miss Addams nor Miss Barclay please tell me the proper way to harvest root of nightshade? Anyone?”

Enid timidly put her hand up.

“Yes, Miss Sinclair,” the red haired teacher smiled warmly and with apparent relief.

“Um, under the new moon, Miss Thornhill? With an obsidian blade.”

“Very good! And can you tell me the exception to that?”

“If... if you are using it to treat hair loss, you need to harvest under the waning gibbous moon.”

“Excellent! Now–”

“You can also use a jade blade to enhance the potency for poisons,” Wednesday called out, unprompted and interrupting the point the professor was about to make.

“I’m sorry Miss Addams, I do believe I exempted you from answering. Was I not clear?” Thornhill raised a challenging brow above her glasses.

“Yes, Miss Thornhill. Apologies, Miss Thornhill.”

“Now, as I was about to say, before being interrupted with an incorrect assertion–”

“It’s not incorrect.” Wednesday couldn’t stop herself from retorting.

“Miss Addams, this is your last warning. Do not interrupt me again, especially to spew falsehoods.”

“It’s not a falsehood. Using a jade blade–”

“Miss Addams, you can join me here tomorrow lunchtime with an essay explaining to me why you believe yourself to be an expert on the harvesting technique of nightshade root, or conceding the point. You can join me on Friday lunchtime with an essay explaining how students should treat their tutors with respect. And for now, you can follow Miss Barclay to receive a punishment for interrupting me, despite being expressly told not to.”

“But–”

“ Enough ! If you have something to say, you may do so with due decorum by raising your hand during class, or waiting to discuss it respectfully after class. You will not interrupt me and you will certainly not challenge me in front of your classmates. Bianca, if you please.”

Barclay stood, a wicked glimmer in her eye as she strode to the front of Wednesday’s desk. “Come on, Addams. I’ve been waiting for this. Time to teach you some manners. Sinclair; the key to her cuffs?”

Wednesday glanced over to Enid to find her levelling a hard glare back. Slowly, the wolf pulled the shackle key from her blazer pocket, holding it out to the smirking top. She tilted her head in the direction that Bianca was indicating, annoyance etched on her features – an expression that Wednesday was well used to witnessing on those around her, but surprisingly disheartened to see on the features of her roommate and mistress. Looking resolutely ahead, the psychic stood, head held high, and walked stiffly behind Bianca to the red room door in the corner of the classroom.

Bianca opened the door, standing just inside to imperiously wave her through. She looked around as she entered. This dungeon was much more sparsely furnished than the one she’d previously visited. The low light glinted off an elaborate ceiling-mounted rack, from which a selection of pulleys dangled, each with a sturdy looking carabiner attached. A similar wall of restraints to that she’d previously witnessed adorned one wall, and a low, wide chest of drawers was pushed against one wall. Wednesday moved to the centre of the small room and waited in the modified ‘ready’ position – her hands straight by her sides rather than clasped behind her, feet hip-width apart.

Bianca hummed as she closed the door and took an electronic tablet from the wall, circling to stand in front of Wednesday as she appraised the screen.

“No limits? I don't know if you’re brave or foolish. Well, seems like impact play isn’t a good punishment for you... Let’s see what else we can come up with...”

Wednesday didn’t respond, clenching her jaw to will herself not to be goaded into reacting to Bianca’s self-assured and teasing manner and worsening her situation. In response, the top raised an eyebrow, a self-satisfied smirk adorning her lips. She moved behind again, presumably to return the tablet to its home before reasserting herself in front of her shorter adversary.

“Hands,” the top ordered, holding the manacle key out. Wednesday thrust her hands forward, wrists up. Bianca undid each of her cuffs, and then moved close to unlock the collar. It took all of her willpower not to flinch away from the warm breath on her neck and the grating of the key in the lock beneath her ear.

“Now, strip.”

Gritting her teeth, Wednesday moved to comply, quickly removing her clothes and folding them into a pile behind her, before returning to the ready pose, hands now clasped behind her, eyes carefully looking beyond the smug countenance in her periphery. Bianca made a show of looking her up and down, even going as far as to ghost a hand across her arse and then up to her breasts, eliciting an outbreak of goosebumps in her wake and a repressed shudder to quake the perfect form under her caress.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind having all this to myself. SInclair must have pulled some strings to get you under her thumb. That dog ...”

Wednesday twitched noticeably at the derogatory term, an annoyed huff leaving her nose before she could calm herself.

“Oh! Someone’s getting protective of her little roommate. Should I be scared, Addams? Are you going to put piranhas in my tub?” she chanted goadingly.

Wednesday seethed at the casual way Bianca revealed she had looked up her personal history, jaw working furiously, breath sharp as it bit in and out through her flared nostrils. Suddenly Bianca pinched her nipple sharply, twisting it slightly and forcing a pained gasp from her.

“I’m sorry, I was led to believe you were being taught manners. I asked you a question . Do I need to fear you, Addams?” She twisted the sensitive nub further as she spoke, forcing her onto tiptoes as it was wrenched upwards.

“Ngh! No, Bianca.” The pressure on her nipple didn’t relent, leaving her teetering against the hold of the other woman.

“That’s right. And do you know why?” The beleaguered teat was squeezed; a prompt for an answer.

“Ah! Because you’re the top, Bianca.”

“Exactly. And what are you, Addams?”

“I’m– I’m the bottom. For now,” she couldn’t help but add, annoyed by the blush she could feel rising in her cheeks.

Bianca abruptly released her nipple, laughing as she did so. “Oh! You’ve got designs on my crown. Wonderful. Well, in that case I’ll be sure to make the most of every moment we spend together until then.” She took a moment to pace around the room, alternating her glance between Wednesday and the wall of restraints. A predatory gleam entered her eye and she moved to retrieve something from a hook before coming back to stand close behind her quarry.

“Arms by your side,” the top hummed into her ear, causing a tremor to run down her spine – her well-defined personal space was another privilege she had signed away. She dropped her hands down to hang loose. Bianca placed a hand on her nape, and again she held in a flinch. “Hmm. Good. The pup has instilled some obedience. Maybe you’re not such a lost cause.” She sidled to the front, dragging her fingers around and along Wednesday’s clavicle. Something about the light but deliberate touch – an echo of what she had experienced the night before – caused a flutter deep in her core. She couldn’t tell if it was apprehension or... something else.

Bianca stepped back, pulling the item she’d been holding up to Wednesday’s eyeline. Shapeless black leather hung between her hands, though Wednesday could make out two sleeves with buckles and straps attached. A straightjacket then. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d worn one. In fact, she had her own at home, finding comfort in the safe restriction it provided. She’d discovered the calming effect it had after a particularly inventive nanny had come to her wits end and forced her and Pugsley into them. This, however, was far from reassuring. For one thing, it didn’t seem to consist of much more than the sleeves. She licked her lips nervously.

“I see you know what this is,” Bianca smiled menacingly. “What does that say about you? I’d heard you’re a psycho, Addams. Looks like you just confirmed it... I guess you know how this goes?” She looked directly into Wednesday's eyes, clearly expecting a response.

“Yes, Bianca,” she replied through clenched teeth, offering her arms to thread into the heavy sleeves. The top pulled the garment on, revealing that there was no front, only a strap that ran under her breasts with a central column that divided her boobs and buckled to the collar. Bianca pulled the harness into place, lifting the soft globes of her bust to position the strap flat against her ribs. She swallowed several times as the other woman moved to the back, tugging the sleeves over her shoulders and buckling the vest closed, pulling firmly and cinching it tightly to ensure she would be unable to wiggle free. No less than three straps secured the garment in place, hugging her ribs and shoulders in soft hide. Finally, the collar was pulled closed, stiff under her chin, forcing her head to stay reasonably upright. She concentrated on her breath, taking it in through her nose and gently out through her mouth.

After checking her restraints, Bianca moved to face her, looking seriously into her eyes. “Can you tell me your colour?”

Wednesday tried not to roll her eyes. “Green, Bianca.”

“And you know how to stop this? Tell me.”

“Yellow to pause. Two hums if I can’t talk. Red to stop. Three hums.”

“Good. I’m gonna trust you to tell me if you need me to stop, Addams. But unless you do, you’re mine to do as I want with. That’s what it says on your limits. Anything is fair game. Is that right?”

Wednesday hesitated slightly, realising how little she actually knew. But the safeword system was there for a reason. She nodded, looking into the pale sea-green eyes. “Yes, Bianca. I’ll use the safewords if I need to.”

“Ok. Well then. Let’s get you into position.” She grasped Wednesday's shoulders and spun her around to face the door before sliding her hand along the length of her enclosed arm, the touch feeling diffuse through the leather. “Here...” she grasped the covered wrist and pulled it up and across her back, buckling it to a point just below her armpit, and repeated the manoeuvre with her other arm, securing her arms into a reverse fold. Wednesday instinctively tested the restraints, finding that she could do little more than bounce her limbs slightly.

BIanca tsked, before wrapping her forearms with another strap and cinching them together. “Comfy?” she teased.

“Yes, thank you, Bianca.”

“Hmm, you know, I’m not sure that carries the respect I’m due. After all, you’re merely a lowly subject, the lowest, in fact. The bottom; barely fit to kiss the ground beneath my feet.” Bianca walked her fingers over the leather-clad shoulders as she moved around to the fore, and down to the pert breasts that now stood proud from the enforced posture, her touch ghosting tan nipples as they stood to attention in the cool air. “I think you should be acknowledging just how superior I am to you... How about, from now on, you refer to me as ‘My Queen?’ Don't you think that’s more appropriate?” She looked challenging into Wednesday's furious gaze. “Well?” She grasped both nipples, tugging them painfully.

“Argh! Yes! My queen.” Her stretched teats were mercifully released.

“Very good. Such a loyal subject. Though I think we should work on your deference.” She marched to the wall of restraints, picking up a metal bar with leather cuffs on either end, and a length of chain with carabiners on either end. She returned, and crouched to push Wednesday’s ankles apart, buckling the padded cuffs around each and spreading her legs wide. Wednesday wobbled a little precariously. 

“Hmm, you certainly have the lack of grace one would associate with the common folk. Wait there.”

Wednesday heard movement behind her, clanking and a curious whine before she felt something clipped to the straightjacket at a point between her shoulder blades, and another at her bound forearms, before, with the noise of a pulley ratchet engaging, she found tension holding her more upright. Bianca moved in front, looking up at the ceiling above her with a satisfied air before stooping to grab the chain. She reached under her subject’s chin and attached the carabiner to the d-ring.

“Now, let’s get you into a more fitting position, shall we?”

“Yes, my queen,” Wednesday said in resignation. 

She was pulled forward by the chain at her throat, forced to bend at her hips as the spreader bar kept her from pivoting at her knees. The pulley above her resisted but allowed her to move, ratcheted gears clicking as it provided a tension that kept her from overbalancing. When she was bent so her hips were a little more than 90 degrees and her eyes were level with the navel of her self-proclaimed monarch, the queen pushed a button on a remote she held, presumably locking the pulley in place. 

Bianca then crouched again, looping the other end of the chain around the spreader bar before threading the carabiner through one of the links on the return, preventing Wednesday from straightening. In this position she could feel the air over her nethers, fully exposed for whatever the top had planned. She had never felt the urge to cross her legs more strongly. 

Bianca rose back to standing. “Now, remind your queen why you have interrupted my court.”

“I’m here for a punishment, Bi– my queen.”

“Goodness. What could someone as insignificant as you have done to earn the ire of the crown?”

Wednesday opened her mouth, but managed to bite back her first response. It didn’t matter that she was technically correct. That wasn’t the cause of the punishment. SHe needed to demonstrate she knew what she had done incorrectly, or she’d suffer far longer than required.

“I failed to follow procedure when addressing Miss Thornhill, B– my queen.”

“Oh. Just once? Such a punishment seems rather unfair doesn't it?”

“No, my queen,” she ground out, staring down towards Bianca’s knees, the bondage and collar preventing her from hanging her head to the floor as she would prefer. “I repeatedly failed to follow the procedure.”

“Oh, I see. And why does that lead you to me? What would you have your queen do about it?”

“ Miss Thornhill instructed you to punish me, my queen,” she said evenly, knowing it was not what the other student wanted to hear but unable to stop the words from leaving her mouth.

“Oh, yes, she did. But we’re not going anywhere until you ask for my benevolence. You see, in here, I’m in charge. So, once more, what would you have me do about your misdemeanours?”

Wednesday fumed. Taking a punishment was bad enough. Kowtowing to her rival was beyond humiliating, but to have to ask her to belittle her was too much! Stubbornly she kept quiet, visibly seething.

Bianca leant in close. “Ask me.”

Wednesday turned her head away, screwing her eyes shut. A hand threaded into her hair, pulling her to the other woman so she could feel the warmth of her lips on the shell of her ear.

“Ask. Me.”

With a shiver along her spine as the syllables whispered almost straight into her brain, Wednesday relented with a sigh. “Please, my queen, punish me for interrupting the lesson.”

“Very well. Since you like interrupting so much, let's put that mouth of yours to another use.”

Bianca loosened her grip on her hair, letting her head drop unceremoniously, only held up by the strength of her restraints. She watched as Bianca walked over to the chest of drawers and selected something suspiciously purple. Wednesday was not prepared for the sight when Bianca turned around, fiddling with a very obvious tent under her skirt. As she walked back it swayed gently with her hips, the skirt doing nothing to hide how obscenely big it was.

Bianca came to a stop with the bulge a scant inch from Wednesday’s face - she could almost feel the texture of the skirt against her lips. 

Her Queen, as she was wont to be called, pulled up her skirt, flaunting her choice of strap on; a purple smooth silicone dildo poking out of what looked to be Bianca’s underwear. She supposed her rival being Top of the class would have that particular privilege. It was certainly a statement that the panties incorporated a harness.

“Suck, Addams.”

Wednesday looked up in confusion. “What?” 

The hand returned to her hair and yanked her forward, smacking her face into the dildo. “Obey your queen and suck. You don’t need to question anything,” Bianca proclaimed, thrusting the purple phallus towards her bound subject.

Wednesday tentatively opened her lips and wrapped them around the tip of it - apparently not fast enough for Bianca, who thrust deep into her mouth, making her gag for a moment around the girthy member. She started to suck in earnest, hollowing her cheeks, not wanting to get choked again. Bianca loosened her grip to run her hands across her scalp, petting rather than grasping.

"Ah,” the top breathed, “Look at you; such a natural. You really know how to take my cock...” Her hips jerked forward, causing Wednesday to gag again with a small noise of distress before she was able to readjust. “I should take a video to show Sinclair you're not so scary, right Addams? In fact you're a sweet little thing..." Bianca punctuated the word sweet with another deep thrust, once more gagging Wednesday. “What should I call you, my darling subject? Such a sweet little thing deserves a fitting nickname. Especially with how well you are pleasing your Queen.”

Bianca seemed to pause to think, her thrusts shallow as her hands played with Wednesday’s fringe. Wednesday took the reprieve for what it was, a test of her submissiveness and so she kept sucking the strap as well as she could, moving herself back and forth to bob her head. 

“Hmm what a good pet you are, still sucking me off.” Her tone denoted the condescension that Wednesday couldn't see from that angle. “Quite pretty too, all strung up for me...” one of her hands traveled from her head down her back, sending shivers all down her spine, trailing sharp goosebumps after the light touch. 

A loud smack resounded in the room, eliciting a moan from deep in Wednesday’s throat. “Hmm look at that jiggle, maybe I should promote you to princess and have you on your knees for me all day” Her ass cheek stung in a familiar way that was strangely comforting, almost enough to make her forget there was a dildo in her mouth as Bianca brought her hands down a second time, this time in the other buttock before running her hand lightly up her spine. The comfort didn’t last long as Bianca thrust again when she uttered the word princess. She bristled internally, narrowing her eyes. The unfamiliar touch started feeling sharper, almost like nails upon her skin, and not in a good way.

“You have been such a good girl, princess-”Bianca pulled herself out of Wednesday’s mouth, trailing her fingers through her hair and down her back as she rounded her bound form. “-let me give you a treat for that good behavior.”

Now the top was completely out of Wednesday’s view, the sudden lack of visual control struck her like a kick to the ribs. She tensed, the slight touches had not felt like Enid’s had last night, instead every light touch sent dread down her spine. A hand petted down her back while another held her hip steady, she could faintly hear Bianca praising her over the blood rushing to her ears but couldn’t tell what was being said.

Then something foreign touched her pussy, dragging through her labia up and down. It didn’t feel good despite being wet from the spanks earlier. Wednesday could do nothing but freeze. It felt hard to breathe, as if instead of being tied she had been crushed under an immense weight. 

Wednesday took shallow quick breaths trying to make up for the pressure in her lungs. Her body felt disconnected from her mind as everything around her became a blur.

As she circled her bound sub, Bianca noted how Wednesday jolted every time she petted her, chalking it to her heightened senses from being tied. “You have been such a good girl princess, let me give you a treat for that good behavior.” She rounded her captive after pulling herself out of her mouth. Of course the treat would be a nice orgasm on her strap, perhaps with more punishment afterwards if she couldn’t keep herself quiet.

“Let’s see if you are ready for me, pretty thing.” She slid her fingers down Wednesday’s slit, getting covered in her wetness, but something was starting to feel wrong. Wednesday was being very quiet, too quiet for her bratty mouthy self even after a punishment. “Addams, color?” No answer, now Wednesday was actively shaking and breathing heavier. She stopped her fingers, she wanted a color before proceeding and this was giving all the signs of a bad drop.

“Wednesday, I need you to take a deep breath, I'm calling yellow and stopping until you can tell me what’s wrong, ok?” She pulled her hand away and placed it on her shoulder, trying to get her attention. This proved to be her fatal mistake, Wednesday flinched hard away from her, swaying in her restraints and managing to bump Bianca back, just a bit; she was still only half her size after all. 

“Shit, Red, I'm calling red. Addams - Wednesday? Do you hear me? Red. We are done. I’m letting you loose.” She started to unhook Wednesday from the ceiling tether only for her to thrash against her and crumple. She was deceptively strong for such a small girl and managed to wrestle her bound arms away from the top. Bianca noted her wild eyes and rapid breathing, sure signs of a nascent panic attack. She needed to do something pronto.

She lowered her voice and put on her sweetest aftercare voice, approaching Wednesday like a spooked horse. She had to get those restraints off, now . “C’mon cupcake, work with me, I just want to untie you. It will feel better.” She inched closer bit by bit, but at the last moment Wednesday kicked out, eyes blown wide, catching the siren right on the apex of her tibia with the spreader bar.

Inhaling sharply so as to not scream, Bianca scooted away to recompose herself. This was very quickly sliding into Code Black territory, and she would not be having any of that on her watch. She needed to calm Wednesday down; perhaps it was time to swallow her pride and call Enid in. Even in the few days since Addams had arrived she'd gone from literally being dragged through the dorm to following the werewolf between classes like a good little pup. Clearly Enid had started to develop a rapport with the oddball little goth.

Enid watched with rapt attention as the Red Room door swung open to reveal Bianca, strutting purposefully out with an enormous purple dildo swinging freely between her legs. The sight wasn't a shock in itself - she'd serviced the top enough to know or was a definitely a kink that Bianca enthusiastically enjoyed, but she had a bad feeling as the siren directly glanced at her before moving to talk discreetly to Miss Thornhill, her voice low enough that even lycan hearing couldn't decipher her muttering. 

The professor nodded once before pinning Enid with an appraising glance. 

“Miss Sinclair, please join Miss Barclay and Miss Addams in the Red Room.”

“Yes, Miss Thornhill.” She stood and smartly strode into the room behind Bianca, who shut the door as they entered.

Enid immediately stopped as she saw Wednesday, her face pressed to the floor with her arms pinned behind her, ass raised as she was curled - as far as she was able - into herself with her feet held apart by a spreader bar. 

Before she could react, Bianca was speaking. “She started to freak out and stopped responding. I tried to get her to check in but she was all spacey, so I called Red and tried to cut her loose but she went all buckaroo on me. That's when I came to get you. She hasn't said anything but she seems to be panicking. I didn't want to make it worse - she started to freak out when I went to touch her.” Bianca turned slightly to her, ever regal but this time Enid could spy the barest hint of doubt.

“Ok. We’ll talk later.” She shot a stern glance at the top, making it clear that the conversation was non-negotiable. Moving slowly, she stepped toward her sub. “Wednesday?” She approached just a few steps more, getting no response. Wednesday didn’t react negatively so she continued; another step closer. “It’s Enid, I’m here to help. Can I get closer to you?” Wednesday just trembled, her breathing never slowing to a normal rate, so quick it was almost a wheeze. Enid looked back to Bianca, looking for any indication that she thought Wednesday would freak. 

The siren shrugged. “She got me good with the spreader bar, so watch yourself.” Enid nodded before turning back.

“Wednesday? I’m going to come up beside you. Let me know if you need more space.” She moved swiftly but decisively, crouching beside the stricken seer and getting a better look at her. The smaller girl’s eyes were blown, focussed on nothing. She was wheezing through her parted lips, the muscles in her neck tightly corded. Enid leaned in so she was in her eye line, unfixed as it was. “Hey. It’s me. I’m gonna touch you. Right here on your shoulder. You can let me know if you don't want it.” She paused, hand held in front of that vacant gaze, before reaching down and firmly grasping the leather clad shoulder below her.

The effect was almost instantaneous. The neck muscles visibly relaxed, the breath coming easier as Enid felt a return pressure leaning into her palm. Wednesday’s eyes fluttered a little before her stare both hardened with purpose and softened with recognition. A small gasp as if she had been submerged escaped from the perfect bow lips. “Red...” the broken sigh wheezed out.

“Hey,” Enid cooed softly. “It’s ok. It’s over. You’re ok... Just breathe.” She held herself still as she saw further awareness creeping back into Wednesday’s eyes. The bound girl flexed her arms, whining when she found herself restrained. “Shhh. Here... let me get you loose. I’m right here...” Enid continued to murmur soothing noises as she quickly moved to unbuckle the straps that held her roommate. 

Soon the buckles were off and the smaller woman was free. For a moment nothing happened, and Enid questioned what to do next, before she suddenly found herself with a lap full of Wednesday Addams. Her left hand had been kidnapped in the tackle and was now held hostage between Wednesday’s heaving chest and her own legs. 

“Shh it’s ok, I’ve got you.” Enid paused. She contemplated her previous post-scene care with the dark girl. Wednesday responded positively to deliberate and firm touch. Keeping that at the forefront of her mind, she moved her free hand to clasp the upper arm of the petite goth, squeezing slightly. She was rewarded with a return pressure on her sternum, where a raven crown pushed into her.

“You’re doing great,” she soothed. “Here, follow my breath. SHe breathed in deliberately, squeezing the shoulder beneath her, before easing her grip as she exhaled. As she repeated it, the other girl’s breaths started to match, steadily evening out, the gaspy wheezing giving way to shaky sighs and eventually sure and steady inhalations.

“There you go,” murmured the blonde. “Good work.”

The pressure on her hand and sternum lessened before Wednesday pulled back, blinking at her owlishly. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Enid asked gently, flexing the fingers on the hand her roommate had captured as blood returned to the awkwardly contorted limb.

Wednesday frowned, looking down at the hand grasped in ehr grip before looking back up at Enid. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She frowned, before finally dropping Enid’s hand, and moving to rub her face tiredly with both hands, releasing a shaky sigh as she did so.

“Are you two good here?” Bianca asked from the door. Wednesday startled and turned to look at her, frowning slightly at the sight of the purple dildo before averting her gaze. She nodded minutely.

“Yeah, thanks Bianca,” Enid responded.

“I’ll go tell Thornhill you need more time. I heard the bell go, so I’ll get an absence note from her for next class.”

“Thank you.”

“Bianca...” the siren stopped as Wednesday murmured her name, looking back over her shoulder quizzically.

“Thank you for stopping. But I’m not a cupcake.”

Bianca stared for a second before barking out a laugh. “Of course that’s what you latch on to! Sorry, cupcake, I know you’re a sweet little thing under that hard-ass exterior.” At Wednesday’s grumble of protest she chuckled again before her expression turned more serious. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Addams. I’m sorry if I did anything to trigger you. You should talk to Weems about updating your limits.”

With that. The top left, the purple toy still waggling between her legs.

Enid turned back to her sub, expression serene now that Wednesday had calmed down and talked. “Are you ready to talk about it? It doesn't have to be now, but we'll need to have a meeting with Weems; you did have a big freakout.”

Wednesday for her part was at a loss of words, she looked sideways, not able to meet Enid’s gaze if she wanted to speak. Plus her awkward positioning between her roommates legs, mostly naked, certainly didn’t help. 

“I… I’m unsure how to explain it. Everything around me became... prickly of sorts? And I couldn't think straight.” She fidgeted with the now loose straps on her straightjacket.  “Perhaps Bianca is right and my sheet does need an update. It seems to have started with that purple monstrosity. Hmm, I didn't think my dislike of color would be so impactful.”

The blonde looked pensive for a minute, her hand still squeezing Wednesday at intervals while the gears in her mind turned. “Wednesday?”

“Hmm?” Words were always hard after something like this. Enid filed this away in a mental list.

“Does this kind of thing happen often? Like the spiky and the pressure?”

“Sometimes.” She didn’t like the way her roommate suddenly looked at her in understanding, as if some piece of a puzzle she wasn’t privy to had been connected. 

“Huh, interesting. But we can maybe talk about this another time. Let’s get you out of here. Upsy-daisy.” Wednesday didn’t have time to prod her mistress for more details as she was hauled up and held in a firm bridal carry. She hid her face in the warm dark space under Enid's chin as the wolf effortlessly led them back to the sanctuary of their shared dorm. 

The process left her feeling drained, and she didn't protest when Enid peeled off the straightjacket and placed her into her bed, tucking her in tightly. After making her voice a mumbled verbal confirmation that she was OK, Enid departed. It seemed Wednesday had overestimated her companion’s desire to skip class, that or she was a more applied student than she seemed. She had mentioned a need to research something before disappearing out the door.

Swaddled securely in her sheets, Wednesday felt her body start to crash towards sleep. An unfamiliar sensation enveloped her mind; blissful calm and a faint warmth that pulled at her heartstrings when she tried to examine it. 

Hmm, how bizarre, she might need to do research too: of the medical kind. Perhaps a heart condition would get her out of some of these dastardly punishments. An interesting thought. 

Chapter Text

Enid made her way to the library. She didn’t actually need to consult the books, but she wanted to let Wednesday rest, and she also wanted time and space to think about her sub.

Once she was comfortably seated on the cushioned leather chair, she fished out her laptop, pulling up her notes app. Thinking back over the last few days she thought about all her interactions with her roommate, from the moment they met to tucking the petite woman into bed moments ago. She wanted to understand her sub, to be able to provide her what she needed to not just survive but to thrive at Nevermore. Wednesday was a complex person, and Enid had a feeling that for all the information crammed in that impressive brain, the little goth knew very little about herself. 

She thought back to the second night, when she had massaged the ointment into her strange new roommate’s arse having spanked her, which the girl clearly got an unexpected rise out of. She noted a couple of things that stuck out to her.

• Struggles talking about emotions

• Avoids eye contact when talking about feelings

• Avoids physical contact – because of visions?

The same day had seen the fiasco with the window. Enid flushed in embarrassment as she remembered her shameful lack of control. But even that had been triggered by what Wednesday herself explained as being overwhelmed by the colours.

• Gets overwhelmed by too many sensations – overstimulated?

• Acts impulsive – does not think about effects

And then today: Bianca had said she’d tried to touch Wednesday before she freaked out. Enid had had a few Red Room encounters with Bianca. The siren was definitely handsy. But also, Wednesday had mentioned the strap-on. Maybe it was the colour like the seer thought, but strap-ons tended to be for a particular act – penetration. Perhaps that was what had set the inexperienced girl spiralling. She’d have to talk to Bianca to see what activities had been going on in the build up to the... yeah, she was gonna call it a shutdown. She made a few more notes, certain that she could see where this was heading.

• Prefers firm touch to light touch – pressure is good

• Struggels with words when overwhelmed

• Takes things very literally

The last one made her smile as she thought back to the ‘petting’ of the previous night, And then she blushed as she remembered what followed. Wednesday had been fine with the intense sensations of sexual intimacy, so whatever this was, it was something they could work around if they put appropriate boundaries in place. 

With her list of observations, she started up Google. As she suspected, Wednesday’s traits lined up with Autism Spectrum Disorder, but very quickly she also came across the term ‘alexithymia’. She didn’t want to label her roommate, but the inability to recognise and show emotions seemed to fit how Wednesday struggled to open up about what she was feeling.

Unsure what to do with the information, Enid drafted an email to Weems, explaining the need to meet and also including her list of observations, though she omitted the bit about visions. Although it was on Wednesday’s medical file, it wasn’t her place to divulge the particulars of what the other girl experienced. The other elements were all useful points for Wednesday's file, so that hopefully they could avoid making situations more stressful than they needed to be.

She got an almost immediate response from the Head Mistress, asking that she bring Wednesday to a meeting in a little over 30 minutes. She packed up her laptop and ducked into the Red Room in Thornhill’s classroom to collect Wednesday’s neglected clothes and manacles. She then swung past the canteen, picking up some fruit and water for herself and Wednesday before making her way up to collect her charge.

Entering the dorm, she found Wednesday awake and blinking at her, clearly having awoken at the sound of her entry. “Hey,” she smiled. “How are you feeling?”

The other girl blinked at her owlishly. Right. Possible alexithymia. She reframed the question. “Do you feel any better; are you feeling good enough to meet with Weems?”

“Yes, Mistress. I feel better for resting.” She pushed aside the covers, standing up and looking around as she obviously realised her clothes were absent.

“Oh – I picked up your uniform. Here.” Enid stepped forward, offering the bundle of clothes she’d had tucked under her arm.

“Thank you, Mistress.” Wednesday nodded before quickly redressing herself. She then held out her hands expectantly. Enid creased her brow, puzzled. “My chains. The Head Mistress was quite explicit,” explained the little seer, looking up at her with a trace of humour.

“Oh! Right! Sorry.” She hastily fastened the restraints before stepping back. “Oh, I got you a snack.” She offered the apple she'd brought up. 

“Thank you, Mistress. I'll eat it later. When is the meeting with the Head Mistress?”

“Oh shoot! We need to get going. Sorry!” She turned quickly, checking to make sure Wednesday was following before stepping through the door. 

“Miss Sinclair, Miss Addams. Thank you for coming.” The Head Mistress opened the door for them to enter. Bianca was already in the room, seated in front of the large desk. Two further chairs awaited them. Enid led them to the chairs but remained standing in her ready pose as Weems rounded the desk. Wednesday followed the example of her Mistress, shackled hands by her side. 

As Weems relaxed into her own chair she gestured to the two of them. “Please, sit.” They did so, Enid in the centre with Wednesday nearest the fireplace. The Head Mistress turned to face Wednesday, her expression soft. “Miss Addams. I do hope you are feeling up to this meeting, but please let me know if that isn't the case.”

Wednesday bobbed her head, uncomfortable in the warm gaze. “Thank you, Head Mistress. I'm fine.”

“Very well.” She appraised the three girls in front of her. “I have you here to ascertain what happened this afternoon. Obviously this is something we wish not to repeat. I’m sure I don't need to ask discretion from each of you to avoid discussing the events of the afternoon and the conversation we are about to have with anyone outside of this group." She received three acknowledgements before continuing. 

“So, Miss Addams, if you would, please explain to me what happened during Miss Thornhill’s class? Take your time. Just tell me what you recall.”

Wednesday nodded. Simple enough. “Yes, Head Mistress. Miss Thornhill had asked a question of the class, instructing Bianca and me to refrain from answering. Enid gave the textbook response. I added further findings that have not yet been published. Miss Thornhill was displeased that I interrupted despite her previous instruction, and asked Bianca to correct my behaviour.” She took a breath, a slight fidgeting in her hands betraying her frustration at the decision and causing the manacles to clank softly. 

“On entering the Red Room, Bianca reviewed my limits, finding that none were in place. She verified this with me verbally. She asked me to undress, which I did, before restraining me for my punishment.” She blinked, framing the events in her mind. She felt coldly detached, almost as if she could picture the scene from a third perspective. There was nothing about what she was describing that elicited a reaction from her now. 

“Bianca checked in once I was restrained, having me repeat the safewords. After I confirmed I was green, she positioned me...” Wednesday swallowed. That position had not been part of the issue; she hated the way it made her feel vulnerable, but that was something she acknowledged was part of the price of submission. She cleared her throat. “She positioned me with my legs apart, bent over. She then approached wearing a purple phallus, which she told me to suck. Although I didn't understand, she made it clear what was expected.” 

Wednesday felt blood rising up her cheeks as she recalled the way she had been forced to worship the siren and her prosthetic member. She also recognised the curl of arousal faintly stirring in her abdomen. The memory of the way the top had praised her as she diligently serviced the dildo was mortifyingly awakening something within her. 

“I... I did as she asked. And then...” she paused. What had happened after that? She remembered the firm grasp on her hair, the sensation of the silicon cock at the back of her throat. The gentle, teasing praise. The memories had her cheeks feeling warm, the embers of arousal gradually stoking higher... Why was the memory causing this reaction? And how had she gone from that to wrapped around Enid? Her recollection was blurry. She remembered the spiky discomfort, but the events were foggy...

“Miss Addams?” Weems was looking at her, her eyebrows furrowed. “Are you alright to continue, my dear?”

“I... yes. Head Mistress. I... don't know what happened next. Bianca was there, but I couldn't see her. And it was... prickly,” she finished lamely. She looked down, hating that she didn’t have the vocabulary to adequately describe what she had experienced.

“I see. Thank you, Wednesday. Bianca, have you got any more insight as to what caused Wednesday's reaction?”

“Maybe, Head Mistress.” The siren cocked her head, sea-green eyes glancing over the other two. “As Wednesday said, I had her suck on my c– on the strap-on. I then moved behind her to see if she was... ready for more. I touched her vulva, and I think that was when I noticed she wasn't responding.”

Wednesday felt the blood drain from her face as Bianca spoke. She could now recall the angry scratchy sensation of the top’s fingers running along her skin and then the sudden contact on her intimate parts. She ducked her head, trying desperately to keep her breath calm.

“Wednesday? Are you ok?” Enid, damn her observance, tentatively reached towards her sleeve. Wednesday jolted, pulling her arm back instinctively. 

“It... you... I didn’t know she was going to touch me. It was prickly and...” she looked desperately at Enid. “It wasn’t like yesterday. I didn’t know. I wasn’t ready. I’m sorry.” Her voice was quiet, a hoarse whisper.

“Hey! It’s ok. We’re just talking about it so it doesn’t happen again. You don't have to apologise. You didn't do anything wrong. Right Bianca?” The wolf shot a stern glance at the siren.

“No! No, you were doing really well. I... I didn’t know you wouldn't enjoy it. I’m sorry, Wednesday. I should have told you what was going to happen. I should have checked you understood. I guess I’m used to Scenes with people that I know, and that know me.”

Wednesday took a deep breath, clasping her hands in her lap before glancing through her bangs to the guilty-looking top and nodding her acknowledgement.

Weems cleared her throat “Bianca? Did you not explain the punishment to Wednesday?”

“Not precisely, Head Mistress. I checked her limits, but I didn’t explain exactly what I had in mind. I... I see now that means that she didn’t really consent. I apologise. It won’t happen again, with Wednesday or with anyone else.”

“Hmm. I’ll be reviewing your privileges after this, Miss Barclay. Thank you for your candour.”

“Yes, Head Mistress.” The siren sat up straight, keeping her eyes forward.

“Very well. Miss Barclay, you may leave, I’ll be in touch about your privilege amendments.”

“Thank you, Head Mistress. Addams, Sinclair.” She inclined her head politely before stepping smartly from the room.

Once the door was closed, Weems turned to the remaining pair. “Now, clearly we need to revise your limits, Wednesday. I think it would be beneficial for Miss Sinclair to be party to this discussion, but I quite understand if you prefer she depart.”

Wednesday looked to her roommate, the bright eyes meeting hers openly. “I’d prefer she stay, Head Mistress.” She was rewarded with the flash of a smile before Enid turned back to Weems.

“Very well. Now, I need to ask, and I hope not to offend, but I think there are pointers here that might lead us to consider certain adjustments. Wednesday, to your knowledge, have you previously had any sort of screening for any sort of neurodiverse or cognitive conditions?”

Wednesday looked at her calmly. “I’m not technically a psychopath, according to the last assessment I took.”

Weems smiled briefly, genuine amusement gleaming in her eyes. “That’s not what I was getting at, but thank you for confirming.”

Wednesday pursed her lips. “Do you mean the Autism?”

Weems and Enid both looked at her in surprise. “You have a diagnosis?” the Head Mistress prompted.

“I have a label,” She corrected scornfully.  “It was stuck on my normie school records. It just meant the other children had more ammunition to throw at me.”

“I’m sorry that was your experience, but here at Nevermore we welcome diversity and strive to make the experience suitable for everyone. There are certain precautions we can put in place to minimise the chance that any activity will trigger an episode like that you suffered earlier. Though this is something that it would behoove your parents to be involved in. How about we call them now? We can agree to some adjustments and notes on your file together?”

Wednesday clearly tried hard not to roll her eyes. “If they must be involved, I would ask that we not go into the specifics of what happened today, Head Mistress.”

“Of course. I shall follow your lead. Enid? I’ll send you an email detailing the adjustments. Feel free to add your recommendations, but I think that this conversation should probably be between Wednesday and her parents.”

“Yes, Head Mistress. Thank you. Wednesday, I’ll see you in the dorm?”

“Yes, mistress” The little goth met her eyes. “Thank you, mistress.”

Enid stepped from the office to find Bianca waiting outside. 

“Sinclair. I wanted to clear the air. Would you come back to mine?”

Enid looked the siren up and down, sensing nothing but honest intent. She nodded. “Alright. But we're getting a snack on the way.”

Enid hadn't been in Bianca's room before. Establishing herself as the first Top of Class of their year (and yet to be toppled), the siren had won herself a single room. Gauzy blue material hung over the bright window, and green, blue and silver accents in the space evoked the sea, creating a calm and inviting space. A dildo and a clitoral vibrator were casually laid on the queen-size bed, clearly ready for the woman to use on her return from class. Enid was not surprised that Bianca was unaffected by her open curiosity.

Bianca closed the door behind her, gesturing to the desk and the wheeled chair tucked beneath it. “Take a seat.” Enid did so, dropping her sandwich onto the table and turning to give the other woman her attention. Bianca settled herself on the bed. 

“So first up, thanks for stepping in with your girl. I definitely did not know how to handle that.”

Enid inclined her head in acknowledgement. For the first time she felt like she had the upper hand on the suave siren. She wasn't going to rush this. 

“Also, I'm sorry. I guess I should have let Addams know what I planned. I didn't think about the fact this is all new to her. Next time I'll talk her through it.”

Enid nodded. “I accept your apology. I know she hasn't got anything in her limits. I'm going to talk to her later about it. But... she's inexperienced. Like completely. She literally has no idea what she doesn't know. And she definitely won't ask.”

“Then tell her to talk about it,” the siren shrugged casually. 

“It... it's not that easy...” Enid squirmed. 

Bianca looked at her incredulously. “Seriously? You're her mistress. Of course it's that easy. It's obvious she needs that, or Weems wouldn't have paired you up. Have you actually tried domming her?”

“Well, yeah. I've punished her. On her second day. And I had her wearing a collar. But then I sort of went too far...”

Bianca stood, making her way to stand in front of the downcast wolf. “Enid. Wednesday needs someone to tell her how to behave. You said it yourself – she won't ask. So she has to be told. You can't be scared to be the domme she needs. It's only going to hurt you both.”

Enid looked down at her hands. “I– I don't know if I can be that,” She admitted quietly.

“Bitch, please! I saw those handprints on her ass when you dragged her down the corridor. I heard you laying into her when you took her to Yoko. “ Don't you dare come?” ”. Bianca arched her eyebrow. “That shit was hot. And it was exactly what Addams needs. You gotta lean into that. Don't be scared of it!”

“It's not all she needs though. I don't think she's ever had someone try to understand her. I don't think she even understands herself. She needs more than a domme. She needs a friend.”

“I'm not saying you can't be that too. But you need to put down boundaries. Define when you're her friend and when you're her mistress. And I don't mean just with words. You have to play the part.” The siren was leaning in now, the passion of what she was saying evident in every bit of her demeanour. 

“One thing I know about Wednesday just from today; that gir needs to submit. Before she got all out of it, she was so close. And she was enjoying it. I had her sucking down my cock like a pro. She was right there, ready to give me everything. You need to tap into that. She needs you to tap into that.”

Enid looked up into the stern but kind face staring down at her. “I... I’ll try.”

“No. Do, or do not, bitch! There is no try.”

Enid gaped. “Did you seriously just quote Star Wars?”

“Well it's clear you need an Obi-Wan. Though I'm more like Mace Windu; a badass motherfucker. But I can help you train your padawan.”

“Alright, Master Windu . Show me the ways of the Force...”

Wednesday hesitated before knocking determinedly on the imposing door. While the meeting had served to clear the air with Bianca, Wednesday still felt the need to finish what she had started. 

It was an impulse she had always had, irksome at best and dangerous at worst. Sadly for her criminal endeavors, she was indeed one to return to the scene of a crime; a job well done should be admired after all, but that same drive also meant returning to finish something hastily left or interrupted. And alas, her punishment had never actually finished.

Weems had insisted that no further action was required since Bianca had also been in the wrong, but the itching at the back of her mind would not let her rest. That and the sticky arousal that now clung to her thighs. 

The door soon opened, interrupting her train of thought. “’Sup Cupcake, come to retrieve your “ mistress ”?” Bianca teased, elongating the word Mistress unnecessarily.

Wednesday scowled at the saccharine nickname but recognised that protest would only further cement it into the siren’s vocabulary. “No. I didn't know she was here. I came to see you. I...” she licked her lips and looked down, blood rising to her cheeks. “I didn't finish my punishment. I believe I owe you, and I hate to be in debt.”

Bianca appraised her silently for a moment before moving to open the door fully. “Come in.”

Wednesday stepped through the door, not feeling as assured as she was trying to project. She looked around, spotting Enid sat on a study chair as she turned to see who was entering. The wolf sprang up as she saw her sub approach.

“Wednesday! Hi! Are you OK? Do you need anything?”

“Hello, Mistress. I’m fine, thank you. I came to speak with Bianca.”

“Oh! Um, do you want me to leave?” The wolf glanced around, unsure of herself. At that, Bianca closed the door firmly, circling into view like a predator, staring hungrily at Wednesday.

“On your knees, Cupcake.”

Wednesday immediately complied. This was good. This was what she needed. She didn't have to think, she simply had to do as she was told. “Yes, Bianca,” she said, dutifully as she clasped her hands in front of her. 

The top stepped up to her immediately, seizing her fringe and forcing her to stare up into her turquoise orbs. “Address me with respect, you worthless cur.”

“...Yes, my Queen. I'm sorry, my Queen.”

“Better. Now, grovel at my feet while I speak to your Mistress.” Her head was shoved roughly down as Bianca released her fringe. 

Stiffly, Wednesday folded down, placing her hands on the floor and resting her forehead on the outstretched toe in front of her. She consciously shut off the bit of her brain that was demanding she take control of the situation. That was the part of her that had forced her into this situation. It hadn't helped her before and it wouldn't help her now.

“Mistress Sinclair,” Bianca imperiously spoke over her head. “Your sweet little thing has returned to receive her punishment. Would you mind if I show her the consequences of bratty behaviour?”

Enid straightened, taking the cue from the top. “Do with her as you see fit, Mistress Barclay. I’ll be enjoying my lunch.” She reached towards the sandwich, only to have Bianca pull her short.

“Don’t you think your little sub should serve you, Mistress Sinclair? It seems only appropriate. Cupcake? We wouldn’t want your Mistress sullying herself now. I’m sure she has much better uses for her hands. Why don’t you make yourself useful?”

“Yes, my Queen,” Wednesday replied into the floorboards, before rising and moving to unwrap the sandwich, awkwardly standing in front of Enid as she held the food out for her to take a bite. Enid looked into her eyes, a cool mask slid over her face as she bit daintily into the bread.

“Hmm,” Bianca mused behind Wednesday. “I think we could do with something to feast our eyes on as well as your appetite. Are you aware of just what’s underneath this monochrome uniform, Mistress Sinclair? Your little sub is quite the treat.”

Enid swallowed her mouthful. “Oh, I’m well aware. I’m sure she won’t mind if you get rid of some of those frumpy clothes. What do you say, ‘Cupcake’?”

Wednesday flushed as her normally soft Mistress joined the teasing siren in her games, but she licked her lips before replying, “As you wish, Mistress.”

“Here.” Enid took the manacle key from her pocket, offering it to the other domme. “I think this counts as a ‘required activity’. I won’t have my sweet thing falling even further behind. The Head Mistress suggested we carry out some extra-curricular activity.”

“Alright. Cupcake,” Bianca purred from where she had stepped in close to retrieve the key. “I’m going to undress you. And I’m going to touch you. You tell me if it feels good, and you tell me to slow down or stop. I'm going to check in on you. If you can't answer, I'll stop. Do you understand?”

Wednesday shivered as the warm breath ghosted her ear, but she recognised it as the start of that coiling tension in her loins. “Yes, my Queen. I understand,” she whispered, letting her eyes flutter shut so she didn't have to see Enid watching with that sharp-eyed but detached expression. 

“Don't forget to look after your Mistress, now,” the top murmured.

In response, Wednesday offered the sandwich forward again, keeping her head low, peeking from under her bangs. As she did, Bianca's hands encircled her, brushing down her upper arms with a firm, steady pressure. “Is this ok?” Bianca whispered, waiting for the whispered, “Yes, my Queen” before moving to undo the buttons of her blazer. The seer gulped as the siren’s forearms brushed against her breasts.

“Oh, don't think I’ve forgotten about those tempting little nipples, Cupcake,” the domme murmured, peppering a series of small kisses on the nape of Wednesday's neck. A tremor ran down the length of her spine and she felt a spike of heat between her legs, causing her to squirm where she stood.

“Hmmm, she likes that, Bi. I can smell her getting turned on.” Enid smirked, a blob of mayonnaise at the corner of her mouth. Without thinking, Wednesday reached with her spare hand, moving to wipe it away. The wolf watched calmly as she scooped the condiment onto her finger before she abruptly leaned forward, capturing the digit in her open mouth and swirling her tongue around it.

Wednesday drew a stuttering breath, barely noticing as Bianca took the sandwich from her and unlocked her wrist shackle. Enid captured the hand that protruded from her mouth, gently pulling the now wet finger out before pushing a kiss to the thrumming pulse point at the slender wrist. She kept the wrist captive as Bianca leaned over to remove the cuff that encircled it. The siren then eased the blazer down over her elbows, momentarily trapping Wednesday’s arms at her sides to take the opportunity to slide her hands under the shirt and vest, grasping the petite waist and moving up to smooth her fingers over heaving ribs.

“You ok, Cupcake?”

“Yes, my Queen,” she breathed. “Green.”

“Good girl. Such a sweet little thing you are...”

Enid – apparently now with an appetite for something other than her sandwich – stood, the key somehow glinting in her grasp as she carefully released the metal collar, catching the pooling chains and letting them slip to the floor. Her tongue ran over her canines as she hungrily eyed her petite sub.

Wednesday let her eyes close for a moment. The sensations were a lot. Not too much, but she was unaccustomed to being touched, especially so sensuously. She needed to make space to process what was happening. Subconsciously she allowed her head to loll back, exposing the exquisite flesh of her throat to the hungry wolf before her. She gasped as she felt soft, warm lips press under her chin, sucking hard enough to bruise her pale flesh. A moan fell from her lips when another pair of lips moved in from behind to suckle on the other side of her throat, teeth grazing and a wet tongue lapping against her.

She startled when a growl sounded low in front of her, opening her eyes to see Enid glaring over her shoulder towards the cocky top. “You can taste, Barclay, but don’t leave any marks on my sub,” the words were slightly muffled where they were spoken into Wednesday's flesh, the vibration pushing a further warmth down her spine towards her core. Her hips bucked involuntarily towards her Mistress. 

Bianca pulled away from her. “Relax, Sinclair, I'm not here to claim your perfect little toy. Even though she makes the most enticing noises. Help me get her undressed so we can see what else we can pull from those pretty lips.”

Moments later, Wednesday found herself fully naked, her clothes having been stripped and discarded hurriedly to allow the two dommes to press themselves close, sandwiching her between them as their hands roved over her. She squeaked as Bianca – pressed against her back – suddenly grasped her nipples, which had been growing steadily perkier under the attention being lavished on her. A sharp pinch had her squeal turn into a groan as the siren chuckled into her clavicle.

“Oh, I do love that sound. You should try these, Sinclair. She’ll do anything you ask if you just give them a little tug. Isn’t that right, Cupcake.”

A hard tug and twist jolted Wednesday into realising that she was expected to respond. “Aaah-ah. Yes, m-my Queen. Whatever you want.”

“Hmmm. Whatever I want? Whatever I need . Do you know what I need?” Another biting twist indicated that this was no rhetoric.

“N-no! No, my Queen.”

“I need to get something sweet in me. I was due to have a slice of the most delectable cupcake, but I was cruelly denied. Twice now. Isn’t that tragic?” A squeeze.

“Yes my Queen,” the seer gasped, finally realising the game. Her nipples were massaged in reward, peaking almost painfully under the warm fingers.

“You know, this sweet thing might be just what you need,” Enid mused. “She’s a natural when it comes to oral skills. How did you phrase it, Cupcake ? A skilled tongue?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“What do you think, are you up to showing Mistress Barclay what you can do?” Earnest blue eyes looked at her, and for the first time in what felt like days but really couldn’t have been more than half an hour, her body wasn’t being touched, the two other women tacitly giving her the space she needed to make an informed decision without the onslaught of physical sensation.

“Yes, Mistress. I would be happy to give Queen Bianca that... treatment.” She looked back into the honest gaze of her Mistress, seeing a warm pride flash into her expression. Something inside her gave a little flip.

“Good girl.” The flip became a somersault, and blood rushed simultaneously to her cheeks and her groin.

“I’m not going to lie here all day,” piped up Bianca from where she was suddenly lying fully naked on her bed. “Get that cute little ass over here.”

“Yes, my Queen,” Wednesday breathed. Bianca was breathtaking. Chocolate skin, shapely curves and not a hair to be seen. Wednesday knew that sirens had no body hair, but she had never equated that academic fact to the vision that greeted her. A faint iridescence played across the mahogany in the sunlight, no doubt the subdermal scales that protected the seafolk from the cold water. The effect was staggering.

Wednesday moved to the side of the bed, unsure of how to proceed. She hovered uncertainly, looking back to Enid for guidance. The wolf glanced at Bianca, and it seemed like she must have communicated somehow to the siren.

“I swear, Cupcake, if you don't get those pretty lips between my legs in the next ten seconds, we’ll see how many more limits you can discover today...”

“Bianca!” Enid scolded. She caught Wednesday's chin with a warm, cupped hand. “Hey, remember, you can let us know if you need to slow down or stop. Ok?”

Wednesday blinked, her eyelids slowly fluttering uncharacteristically closed in the intense stare. “Yes, Mistress. It’s – I’m ok. I’m green.”

“Ok. Good girl.” She smiled encouragingly. “Now, show Mistress Barclay what you can do.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Wednesday turned, mounting the bed on her knees and moving to take her place between ebony legs. She glimpsed up at the intense scrutiny of the class top, receiving a nod of encouragement before she leaned down, bracing her hand on the soft hips and gently sucking and nibbling at the pillowy flesh of Bianca’s inner thighs, making her way from just above the knee up towards the dark, glistening core.

“Fuck!” gasped the siren, splaying her legs wide, hands fisting the cover. Beside Wednesday the bed flexed, and she saw Enid move to start running her hands up and down the lithe torso before leaning to suckle on the enticing peaks that swelled on supple breasts. “Aaah!” The prone domme moaned lustily, tossing her head back against the pillow. 

“Oh! Oooh! Wait! Wait,” she called breathlessly. Both other women paused, looking up at her curiously. “Here.” She thrust something towards Enid. To Wednesday it looked like a pastel pink comma, a little smaller than her hand. Bianca gestured clumsily to her. “For our little Cupcake. So she isn’t left out.”

Enid smirked, pressing against the device until a light blinked on. She offered the object to Wednesday. “Here. Hold the nozzle against your clit.”

Looking at it, Wednesday realised there was indeed a raised ‘nozzle’, designed to fit over the clitoris. Uncertainly, she took it and slid it between her legs, taking a moment to fit it over the little bump between her labia. 

“Is it in the right place?” Enid asked. She nodded, uncertain of what was meant to happen. The pressure didn’t seem to be doing anything to increase her arousal. “Ok. Keep it there. No matter what. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.” It didn’t seem like a difficult task. There had to be a catch.

“Remember, Cupcake, don’t drop it. This is the punishment you were so keen to have. It will be worse if you fail.” Bianca was smiling down at her with a shark-like gaze. “Now, I believe you were about to use that tongue for something other than backchat. Get back to it.”

“Yes, my Queen,” she breathed into the soft flesh as she resumed her journey up towards the glistening destination. Keeping the object pressed to her vulva, she used her remaining hand to cradle a sumptuous buttock as she finally dove into the vaunted folds. 

Drawing on her only experience, she started with a long lick along the gleaming slit. The taste was quite different from Enid’s but still quite delectable; a fresh, bright note and underlying saltiness enveloping her. Bianca moaned throatily, her stomach tensing and then jolting as Enid administered loving kisses to dark teats.

Wednesday swirled her tongue around the swelling nub of Bianca’s clit before sucking onto it, flicking her tongue as she did. Bianca let out a small choked noise, which Wednesday echoed as the inert device on her suddenly kicked into life, tugging on her own clit with a throbbing, rapid suction. She jolted away from her task, almost pulling the toy away before she remembered the challenge she had been set. Dutifully she pressed the machine against her vulva, ensuring an unbroken seal that tugged and suckled at her nub.

Suddenly a hand was on her head, pushing her back toward her other task. She glanced up, realising that Enid was watching her from the corner of her eye, her mouth still latched onto the delectable breast. It was the wolf's hand that was directing her. Swallowing a moan, she moved back, lathing the siren with her attention. 

Her tongue slid along Bianca’s folds, admiring the smoothness of her skin and the strange but welcome sensation of irised scales against it. Every upwards lick earned her a string of breathy moans that alongside the new toy made her own core pulse with desire. Enid’s hand remained on top of her head, its weight reassuring. She continued this pace for a bit until the pulse of her toy abruptly increased, pulling an involuntary moan that she groaned into the siren.

“Ahn, so good, Cupcake. Let's – uh! Let's make this more interesting. Each time I up the speed of the vibe, I need you to match it. Understood?”

Wednesday broke the seal of her mouth on the top long enough to gasp out, “Y– yes, my Queen,” before doubling down on her efforts, determined that the cocky ‘royal’ would come before she was forced to surrender to the toy. 

The pulses alternated between slowing and accelerating. At one point Bianca had cranked it to its maximum setting and the sucking almost turned into a vibration. Wednesday couldn’t help the cries that escaped her at every change, forcing her tongue to go faster and faster.

Enid petted her hair and whispered encouragement when she started visibly shaking alongside Bianca. A kiss landed somewhere near her ear, a small whispered command following it. “Suck her hard, Wednesday. She likes a little pain.” 

Oh, now that was valuable information to store away for future use; so the queen bee liked pain. She could certainly oblige. With renewed vigor she set herself to sucking hard and even going as far as to graze her teeth over the hood of Bianca’s clitoris. This elicited the one reaction that she was hunting for; the dark legs wrapped around her head and shook as Bianca came for her. Warm liquid dripped down her chin, she lapped at it while letting her domme-turned-prey ride her climax. She had almost forgotten about the sucker, set to a lower pulse in the last few seconds, but as Bianca released the remote to grab onto her sheets Enid took her chance, upping the thing by several levels. Devious wolf; Wednesday would remember that if she ever got to dominate her. An Addams rarely forgot a slight. 

Wednesday pulled back as the siren finally stopped writhing beneath her. Her own stomach was twitching and convulsing, her clit trying hard to jolt away from the incessant attention of the toy only to descend back to its relentless action. She grit her teeth, a low whine escaping from her. Desperately she looked up at her Mistress. Enid appeared to take pity, clicking a button to decrease the intensity of the sucker. 

Bianca chuckled breathlessly. “Oh, very good Sinclair. Keep her on the edge a bit longer. How devious ... Shall we have her provide the same service for you now?” She looked at the wolf, an invitation and challenge all too evident in her eyes. 

Enid looked at her trembling sub. She honestly had been thinking about those lips on her every moment since last night. A part of her had almost snarled in jealousy as Wednesday lavished affection on the siren. That same part was now clamouring for her to push that raven head between her own legs. It also wanted to taste the smaller woman; to make her scream and mewl and writhe. She licked her lips, nodding as she met Wednesday's blown pupils. She laid down next to Bianca and gestured to her slick apex, hidden beneath her skirt. 

“Come here. If you can keep the vibe on you until I come, you'll get a reward.”

“Yes, Mistress. Would– would you like me to help you undress?”

“Aw, our little Cupcake wants a treat for her eyes too. Maybe we should give her a blindfold? That way she'll learn to appreciate what she's given.” Bianca leaned over and pulled a silk sleep mask from her nightstand, swinging it from her finger as she looked to Enid questioningly. The wolf glanced at Wednesday, inviting her to safeword. The little sub shook her head, murmuring “Green, Mistress” before crawling towards Bianca, allowing her to pull the blindfold over her eyes.

“Lie down, Cupcake. On your back,” whispered the enchantress. Wednesday followed the hands that gently pushed her until she was lying supine, awkwardly keeping the sucking vibe pushed into her. Once the positioning finished, she found it almost impossible to ignore the thrumming as it tugged without mercy at her swollen bud. She let out a small whine.

“Shhh, it’s alright,” soothed Bianca, the teasing tone still prevalent. “Here’s something to keep that pretty little mouth busy.” Wednesday felt the bed beside her head dip.

“I’m going to straddle your face.” Enid’s voice came from above her. “Tell me if you need me to stop. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.” Even in her own fuzzy mind she was unsure what she was grateful for – the warning or the opportunity. That train of thought immediately derailed as she sensed the wolf lowering herself over her waiting mouth. Her tongue was out, eager to directly compare the taste of her Mistress to the siren’s briny tang. 

She felt the long curls brush her chin before a moist valley settled over her jaw. Immediately she set to work, slowly but firmly licking along the length of that inviting slit, revelling once more in the divine nectar that spilled effusively forth. She was rewarded by a stuttered moan, a choked, “Gods yes! Just like that. Keep – ah – keep doing that!” She could feel the wolf holding herself back from fully bearing down onto her face. That was a vision worth entertaining...

She squeaked and jolted as the toy once again increased in speed, taking it as a signal to increase her ministrations as she heard Bianca chuckle. “There you go, Cupcake. A reward for your good service. Hmm, these breasts are just too tempting...”

Hands landed on her chest, massaging briefly before dexterous fingers found her nipples, toying with them – squeezing, twisting, pulling and flicking, wrenching the most embarrassing noises from her throat into the trembling folds that she served with such devotion. She wailed when a tongue flicked over one of her erect nubs, and choked when the same teat was sucked into a warm mouth. Her hips bucked involuntarily, driving for friction she was denied. 

Her nipple was released with a pop. “Such a restless little thing... I'll help you behave.” Wednesday couldn't even start to fathom what the goading top meant before hands landed on hers, prying her fingers from the death-grip she had on the device but ensuring it remained pressed firmly to her clit. Bianca – she assumed – loosely grasped both of her wrists in her free hand, pressing them on Wednesday's own stomach. She felt the press of another body on her hips, the siren's vulva grinding onto her stomach and leaving a rapidly cooling damp trail. 

Her hands were tugged upwards, one at a time, and placed on the pillowy mounds that formed Bianca’s bosom. She flexed her fingers instinctively earning a contented groan from the siren. “That's right, Cupcake. Keep your hands on my titties. There's a good girl.” Blindly, she responded by running her thumbs over the breasts to find hard nubs, circling the peaks while her fingers massaged the bounteous flesh around them. A pleased sigh heartened her as the siren drove her crotch down, using Wednesday’s abdomen as she herself had used Enid's thigh the previous night. 

Wednesday didn't know what she was feeling. Even at the best of times she could only label a handful of emotions. Now she was... fuzzy; floaty. She could feel so many sensations but they were washing over her and through her, rather than attacking her. It was like nothing she had ever experienced – a warmth fueling her from within. She felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be. It was singularly affirming. She sucked with more determination. She could feel a tight pressure building within her but she needed Enid to break first. 

She remembered every stroke of her tongue and lick from the previous night, perhaps recreating it exactly was the best idea, a known method was reliable. Although it had not been the fastest, and being upside-down did make it much harder to suck solely on her Mistress’ clit. Still, she persevered, lips stretching to suck and caress the sweet nub. 

She was becoming distracted by the pulses and the slide of the two girls on top of her. Warmth surrounded her and her thoughts didn’t connect; she wanted to win but all she could do was keep licking and sucking and kneading, hoping that she would manage. Her massaging hands seemed to garner some approval, as breathy sighs joined Enid’s chorus of moans. 

A slight shift had Enid bend a bit forward, granting her more access, the sounds becoming quieter, replaced now by wet smacking of kissing.

Bianca’s free hand traveled from Wednesday’s wrist all the way to Enid’s hip, pushing down to make her grind fully on Wednesday’s tongue. This was rewarded with a much louder moan from the wolf, her claws desperately holding on to Bianca’s shoulders in a bid to not sink down fully and suffocate her seat.

“That’s a good pup, ride her and scream for me,” the top murmured, her lips trailing down Enid’s neck. “Stop holding back. You both want this.”

Enid sucked on a shaky gasp before surrendering, allowing her weight to fall onto the hard-working jaw of her sub. She dragged herself across the willing tongue, which Wednesday instinctively flattened, wanting her Mistress to feel it as much as possible. As the hollow of her Mistress’ vagina moved over the pliant muscle, she followed the contours, thrusting into the space and letting her tongue lick into the sanctum, instantly becoming addicted to the intensity of the essence lapped directly from the source. A gush of that divine liquor flooded down, drenching her mouth and chin as the wolf keened loudly above her. 

The blood sang through Wednesday's veins. She was doing this! She had the ability to make a grown werewolf scream and whimper like a cub. And she didn't need knives or threats or coercion. The sense of pride that filled her was unexpected, but there was no doubt it was earned as both women above her groaned and muttered words of encouragement and praise for her efforts, or sobbed them in Enid's case. 

It didn't take much more before the wolf was howling as she writhed and shook while Wednesday coaxed her pleasure from her. Fortunately, the seer had ample practice at holding her breath. Under perfect conditions she could easily last the four minutes and thirty-two seconds she needed to unshackle herself from Pugsley’s homemade weighted irons and swim to the surface of the Addams’ lake. However, with a siren grinding and driving the breath from her lungs and the endless sucking on her clitoris causing her to gasp and pant, she was starting to see white starbursts behind the blindfold. Despite this, she continued to caress the warm folds as they clamped around her lower face, dutifully drinking down as much of her Mistress’ ambrosia as she was able. At the same time the grinding on her torso was becoming erratic as she mindlessly squeezed and fondled the soft flesh of Bianca's bounteous chest. 

Wednesday could suffocate here but felt strangely pleased at the thought, her belly surreptitiously tightening as if trying to push her over the edge of orgasm. Her resilience was rewarded with a gush of sweet ambrosia that coated her mouth; Enid had come and spilled her sweet essence for Wednesday to enjoy. 

Too distracted to notice if Bianca had also come, she could only focus on taking a big breath as soon as Enid’s lips left her mouth, immediately choking on the air and Enid’s copious effluence.

“Shh. It’s ok; take a big breath, Wens” Sweet voices coaxed her over the coughing, her blindfold was softly taken off yet her eyes remained stubbornly closed. 

Boldly Bianca leaned over Wednesday, her breath fanned over her mouth as she regained her composure. “You did so good, Cupcake, so pretty covered in us. Shhhh.” A hand, Bianca’s probably, petted through her mussed braids. The pulse on her clit weakened and then stopped as the toy fell off without any support.

“Ahm, the…no.” Was all she could muster. Enid’s hands joined her in praise, petting her and peppering little kisses across her head and eyes. A warm tongue lapped up some of the essence on her jaw, leaving a small kiss behind on the corner of her lip. She turned towards the warm face, receiving a small chaste kiss on the lips which was immediately followed by a loud growl coming from right above her. “Oh are you jealous Puppy? Maybe you want to taste yourself as well?” Bianca taunted. 

The seer finally squinted her eyes open, just in time to see glorious dark teats above her face and then a rapidly approaching Enid as she was pulled by her tie. The wolf's face stopped mere inches from her, a silent question dancing in her eyes. 

All that Enid needed was a small needy whine and she was upon her, kissing her hungrily. Her lips managed to slot perfectly with Wednesday’s despite the awkward positioning, soft blonde hairs tickled her neck and skilled hands returned to her breasts to knead and pull whines from her again. Wednesday couldn’t help but keen into Enid’s mouth, allowing her roommate's tongue to invade her mouth for the first time. It felt bizarre; wet and foreign, but just as warm and inviting as her pussy had been. She melted into it, letting her Mistress lead. 

Enid kissed her for what felt like hours and by the time she finally resurfaced her breath and heartbeat were again as erratic as before.

“You have been such a good girl.” She breathed, stroking along the seer’s cheek to gently cup her jaw. Wednesday nuzzled into the touch, eyes fluttering at the praise, and she let out a little mewl. She was thrumming with pent-up pressure and the warm feeling that rushed through her at the pride in her Mistress’ eyes had nowhere to go. She twitched helplessly. She didn't know how to express her need. She didn't know if she wanted to. Her Mistress would give her what she required. She would ask for nothing more. 

The wolf must have seen the unrestrained need in her face. She pulled back a little. “Aw, baby. So desperate. You don't know what to do with yourself, hmm? Let us take care of you.” She moved her hands down, caressing over ribs and torso with firm, steady strokes that had Wednesday writhing and moaning helplessly.

Bianca, now positioned above her head, leaned in, her glorious boobs swinging mesmerisingly as she reached to massage Wednesday’s own heaving breasts. “Our little Cupcake certainly earned her icing.” She leaned further, her boobs gently framing the prone sub's jaw as she sucked on an impossibly sensitive nipple. Wednesday keened, a cracked a broken cry erupting from her as she thrust upwards wildly. 

In response, Enid's strong hand moved to restrain the bucking hips, firmly pushing her down onto the bed as she peppered the olive torso with kisses and little sucking bites, just enough to faintly mark her sub's flawless, freckled skin. 

All thought departed from Wednesday’s hazy mind. Her hands fisted in the sheets as breathless sighs and broken moans tumbled from her lips into the intoxicating dark, warm space between Bianca's breasts. The siren had unknowingly created a safe cocoon where the inexperienced submissive could allow herself to just feel and enjoy the myriad new sensations, to let down all the strict walls and boundaries she had painstakingly built to fortify herself against the world. As the stones tumbled, the warmth of connection overwhelmed her after years of cold, self-imposed isolation. 

Her stomach flinched and jolted under the tender ministrations of her two dommes, Bianca moving her skilled mouth between her nipples and kneading her breasts, Enid moving slowly but inexorably down towards her core. Her thighs were wet with arousal, eked from her by the cruel toy and her responses to the intoxicating titillation provided by the two beautiful women who had claimed her. She was vaguely aware of the wolf pausing as she hovered over her pulsing apex. 

“Wednesday?” She finally zoned in on the repeated utterance of her name as Bianca stilled her tongue and hands. “Wedns? Are you ok?” Oh. She was supposed to do something. Green. She hummed once. “Was that green?” She hummed once more, words beyond her. 

A breathy chuckle tickled her breast. “I think that's all you're gonna get. This Cupcake’s almost done. Why don't you finish her off, pup?” A little light entered her dark cave as she glanced down to see Bianca's upside-down smirk and gleaming eyes. “Would you like that, Cupcake? Your Mistress is willing to return the favour.” 

She rolled her head in an approximation of a nod, a hoarse, “Yes, my Queen” barely making its way through obstacles of her absent brain and her cracked voice. 

“Good girl,” purred the siren. “You heard her pup. Get in there.” The last sentence was punctuated by a hard suck on the nipple below her, ending Wednesday's brief ability to think semi-coherently.

Her legs were gently eased apart and a firm hand cupped her mons. She jerked, desperately trying to drive into the welcome pressure but it was instantly removed. She whined pathetically only for it to turn into a pleased gasp as fingers slid through her labia, holding her lips open as a warm, soft tongue dragged itself from her entrance up to her clit. She choked, eyes rolling up into her head as an indescribable pressure clamoured to be released from her pulsing loins. 

The second lick had her crying out, hands raising futilely in clenched fists before thumping back onto the mattress. She felt like an overwound clock, groaning and close to breaking. Her legs trembled, her lungs seized and a high pitched ringing whined in her ears. 

Once more the tongue slid along her and she sobbed, tears springing from her eyes as the weight of all the sensations she'd experienced since offering herself to Bianca crushed her, squeezing the air from her lungs and every thought from her mind. She only existed here and now, and all she was, was need and want and desire. 

The tongue hardened a little as it swirled her clit and she wailed wordlessly. As her engorged nub was sucked lovingly into the warm cavern of the wolf's mouth, time ceased. She felt every synapse in her body fire as a tidal wave whelmed over her, providing an outlet for the relentless pressure that had become her entire existence. Every muscle in her body tensed and then relaxed as the waves continued to move through her. She felt a gushing warmth flood from her vagina, signaling a dam burst within her. 

The sucking on her clit continued, drawing more and more from her, hollowing her out in cleansing sweeps. Someone was kissing her open lips and she responded as best she could, mouthing messily and welcoming the roving tongue with soft moans. Hands continued to caress her breasts. Her hips twitched only to be held firmly but gently. She sighed into the mouth above her, a contented hum as her body sang with a suffusing glow. 

A vibration at her vulva startled her, her clit twitching away as her eyes shot open. The kissing mouth moved away and she looked down to see fierce eyes regarding her from where Enid still nestled between her legs, a low growl vibrating through her. She whined, hands moving to push the beast from her, the sensation suddenly too much to bear.

“Easy, pup,” Bianca murmured soothingly. “Here.” She reached a hand down, tangling it in the golden curls and guiding the wolf up to Wednesday's head. “Let your little sub know how good she was.”

Enid fell onto Wednesday, kissing her hungrily, not just  on the mouth, but along her jaw, on the tip of her nose, along the tracks of her tears, gently cleaning away the salty lines before pushing into the space below her ear, wrapping her tightly in a firm embrace. “You were so good for me,” She whispered. “My good girl.”

Wednesday felt Bianca lie on her other side, finding herself pressed between two warm, lithe bodies and wrapped in their embrace. 

“Well done, Cupcake. Rest now, sweet thing.”

She didn't resist the command, letting her eyes flutter shut, safely cocooned and fully at peace.

Chapter Text

Wednesday blinked awake in a warm embrace and to soft coos from the two women that had sandwiched her between them.

“There's our Cupcake. Here.”

Strong arms eased her up as she was handed an open water bottle. She took it, gulping thirstily. The two dommes watched her intently, one either side. Once the bottle was drained, Enid shifted, getting her attention. “Was that ok?”

Wednesday nodded, almost shyly. “Yes, Mistress. Thank you.”

“Is there anything you need?” Bianca enquired. 

Wednesday looked down at the dried streaks on her chest, stomach and thighs, seemingly summoning an itchiness as she noticed the residue from their activities. “A shower, if I may, my Queen.”

“Of course, sweet. Come on then.”

The three of them stood, Bianca picking up a wash bag before leading them unashamedly down the corridor to the washroom. Even with cum streaks smeared on her thighs, the siren strode like she ruled the place. Wednesday supposed that in a way, that was true. She'd certainly bent the knee to the class top. 

In the showers, Enid and Bianca teamed up to give her a thorough cleanse, checking in before giving her a welcome massage with the siren's citrus and seaweed body wash. She could feel her tired muscles unwind under the doting care of her dommes. Excruciating praise accompanied the rub down, causing Wednesday to blush under the compliments and jets of hot water. 

The two women also gave each other a quick wash, but it was Wednesday who received the lion's share of attention. After they were all clean, Wednesday was swaddled in a fluffy towel and rubbed dry, again with cooing praise. She was unused to being so cared for, having denied her parents any opportunity to dote on her for many years, but she found that the gentle ministrations soothed her, making her feel appreciated and seen in a new and unfamiliar way. 

Once she was clean and dry she was ushered back to their shared dorm, stopping only briefly to reapply her shackles and retrieve discarded uniforms from Bianca's room, where they bade the siren goodbye for the evening, though not before the smug top had assured Wednesday she'd be seeing plenty more of her, both in and out of class. “Oh, and before you go, Cupcake, swear fealty.” She held out her hand theatrically. Scowling slightly, Wednesday bent to take it, only for the hand to be withdrawn. 

“Ah-ah. I think suitable deference is required...” Bianca raised a challenging eyebrow. 

Wednesday schooled her expression before sinking to her knees, lowering her eyes and uttering, “Of course, my Queen. My apologies.”

“Better. Now then. Repeat: I, Wednesday Cupcake Addams...”

“I, Wednesday... Cupcake ... Addams.” The nickname was squeezed through clenched teeth. 

“Vow to faithfully serve...”

“Vow to faithfully serve.”

“My elite and illustrious Queen, Bianca the Fair.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes while Enid snorted behind her hand. “My elite and illustrious Queen... Bianca the Fair.”

“Very good. You may kiss the royal hand, serf.” With tight lips, Wednesday bestowed a brief kiss to the offered limb, keeping her eyes low, not out of subservience, but so the cocksure siren wouldn’t spot the glare she was directing to the floorboards and give her further punishment.

Still chuckling, Enid ushered Wednesday out of the room, stopping to grab her sandwich before following her scowling charge down the corridor.

Arriving back at their dorm, Enid busied herself tidying away their dirty clothes into the hamper as Wednesday dried and braided her hair. Once both had fussed around for a couple of minutes, the blonde moved to stand in front of her sub, hands clasped awkwardly in front of her.

“Hey. I just want to say I’m really proud of you. That was... I don't know if I have the words, but I very much enjoyed it. I hope you did too, even though it was meant to be a punishment?”

Wednesday felt a flutter in her belly. She nodded, uncharacteristically shy beneath her fringe. “Yes, thank you Mistress. I... “ she petered out, a look of annoyance crossing her face briefly as she struggled to fit words to her experience and she let out a little huff of annoyance.

Enid took her hand, leading her to the monochrome side of the room. “Hey. Do you want to sit down? I think we should talk about what you discussed with Weems. I’d like to understand if you changed any limits, and if there’s anything you need from me.”

Wednesday nodded, sitting cross legged against the headboard. Enid seated herself opposite, mirroring her position. Both girls were still naked from the shower, but the seer no longer felt self-conscious. She looked expectantly at her Mistress. This wasn't a conversation she knew how to initiate. Enid took the cue gracefully.

“Ok. So, tell me what limits you talked about with Weems.”

Wednesday looked down at her hands, “We agreed that I... I need to know what is intended when I’m being punished. Or rewarded. Like just now, when you and Bianca were explaining what you were doing, and checked-in before doing it. That’s a limit now. I thought you might have seen it already, because you did it without me telling you.”

“Oh! That’s great! No – we didn’t know, but I know Bianca felt bad for not giving you a warning about what she had planned. She apologised for that. And, well, I guess that I thought you might be autistic and then you confirmed it when we were with Weems. So I figured it would help if you knew when to expect touch and stuff.”

Wednesday drew in a little sharp breath. “You know I’m autistic? I... I don't really know what it means. Just that I’m different. But I’m always different. How did you know?” She looked up, dark eyes piercing into Enid.

“Well, I guess there are, like, behavioural traits that are associated with autism. Like being really direct. And not enjoying touch. Oh , and like shutting down when you get overwhelmed – I mean, that was the main thing. But there are a lot of traits, and you don't have all of them, but I thought it was worth looking into. That’s where I went this afternoon.”

Wednesday looked down, in what Enid was beginning to recognise as her position for processing new information. “You... You did that. Why?”

Enid shrugged. “I told you, I’m here to help you. I can’t do that if I don't understand you. It just seemed like the thing to do.”

Wednesday looked at her. “Thank you, Mistress. Enid.”

“Sure,” the blonde shrugged easily, as if she hadn’t gone out of her way to understand a girl she’d been bundled with only a few days prior. “So... anything else I need to know about?”

“Weems – I mean the Head Mistress – insisted on noting the autism on my file. It says to get you if I... “shut down”.” Her nose wrinkled with distaste at the term.

“Oh. Ok. Is that ok with you?”

Wednesday nodded. “Yes. I’d prefer you to the Head Mistress.”

“Ok. Cool. Thanks, I think! Anything else?”

“No.” 

“Hmm. Ok. Well I’ve been thinking – and feel free to let me know if you think I'm wrong. But I don't know if it was just the touch that overwhelmed you...” Enid paused. Wednesday quirked her head slightly, inviting her mistress to continue. “You said Bianca had a strap-on. And she said she touched you... down there. I know you haven’t ever – had any experience before. Do you think that might have been part of the issue?”

Wednesday drew in a breath, holding it before exhaling slowly. “I... Maybe. It– it does make me feel... weird. To think about. Not prickly. But not good.” She sighed.

Enid moved her hand towards her somewhat dejected looking submissive, placing it between them on the bed. Not to touch, but to offer it if required. “That’s ok. That’s pretty normal, actually. It’s a big deal for a lot of people. How about we ask the Headmistress to add penetration as a limit. That way it definitely won’t happen. You can always change your mind later.”

Wednesday raised her gaze up to meet Enid’s briefly before looking down at the hand between them. “That would be acceptable. Thank you.”

“Ok. Hold up...” Enid pulled out her phone, tapping quickly before putting it down again. “Done.”

Wednesday let out a relieved breath. “I guess that soul-sucking technology has some uses.” The corner of her mouth twitched microscopically, but Enid caught it and smiled softly.

“Yeah, it has its moments. Like... it can say words I can’t figure out. Here...”

She tapped some more before a robotic voice said “Aylex-ih-thy-mia”.

Wednesday looked up sharply. “No words for feelings. What does that mean?”

“Well, you pretty much just said it. Of course you can translate Latin!”

“Greek.”

“Greek.” Enid smiled disarmingly. “I found out about it when I was looking up autism. It’s its own thing. And it’s pretty common, especially in neurodivergent people. And it’s literally what it says. The inability to recognise and describe feelings. I... I kind of thought it might be something you’d want to know about.”

Wednesday looked at her incredulously, which by her standards of external expression looked about the same as mildly annoyed. “I’ve always felt like I’m broken,” she said quietly. “I have a vast vocabulary. In multiple languages. It’s always been a source of pride. But when someone asks me how I feel, I can’t make any of them fit. I thought I was defective.”

Enid leaned closer, gazing into dark eyes that peeked from below raven locks. “You’re not. None of these are defects. Not autism, or alexi... alexi...”

“Alexithymia.”

“That. Those aren’t ‘defects’. They’re just part of who you are. But not just you. Lots of people.”

Wednesday fidgeted with the titanium cuff on her wrist. “I’m supposed to go to therapy. For the autism. To fix it.”

Enid shifted uncomfortably. “That’s... I don't think that’s how it works. Therapy is to help you understand who you are. And what you need. No one is going to try and fix your autism. It’s not something that needs to be fixed. But according to Google, therapy can help give you tools to work with it. Especially with alexi-thymia. When are you starting?”

Wednesday shrugged. “When Weems finds someone to see me. She said she’d let me know.”

“Ok. Well, that’s a lot for one day. Do you feel like talking about it all is helping?”

Wednesday shrugged again, still looking down. “I’m not sure. It’s... new. Most of this is new. But... I don't think it’s harmful. To talk.”

Enid couldn’t help herself – she leaned forward – moving to take Wednesday’s hand but obviously enough that the other girl could pull away if she wanted to; she didn’t, letting her hand be captured by colourful claw-tipped fingers. “Hey. That’s really good. Talking about things is sort of what therapy will be. Therapy is only going to help if you can let everything out. That’s when it starts to make a difference.”

Wednesday looked at her from under her bangs. “You’ve been? To therapy?”

“Um yeah. When I was younger. It was good. It really helped me. It helped my relationship with my parents too. So yeah. Therapy survivor here!”

Wednesday huffed a small breath through her nose. “You make it sound like torture when you put it like that. Maybe I’ll get something out of it after all.”

She carefully withdrew her hand from the wolf’s loose grip, signalling that the conversation should move on.

Enid leaned back onto her hands, making space for her sub’s thoughts. She organised her own thoughts, determined to demonstrate aftercare, but understanding that Wednesday needed her to phrase it in a way that gave her cues for her feelings.

“Ok. So. Last thing. We did a scene. With Bianca! That was such a big step after the day you’ve had. Like I said, I’m really proud of the way you handled yourself... and us! Was there anything you didn’t like or would want to change?”

Wednesday stilled, and Enid could almost see her sorting the words and feelings into something she could articulate. “It felt appropriate for a punishment. I didn’t enjoy ‘edging’. But I’m aware that’s how punishments work. But it made it more...” she paused. Enid didn’t try to fill the space. “...Satisfying. It felt like passing a test. Or mastering a new skill. I was proud that I-” she flushed, her cheeks turning pink in the low light. “That I made you both climax. Without failing the punishment.”

“You should definitely be proud. I swear to God, that was the hardest I’ve ever come!” The colour on the psychic’s cheeks deepened. “How about after? Your reward. Your climax. Was that ok?”

“Yes.” The response was immediate. “It was significantly more than ok. Thank you, Mistress.”

Enid smiled widely before pressing further. “And you were ok with me eating you out? You weren’t sure about it last night.”

If the seer had been red before, she turned a deep scarlet now. She choked a little as she sucked in a breath through her teeth.

“Whoa! Sorry! Sorry... just breathe!” Enid patted her on the back gently.

Regaining her breath a modicum of composure, Wednesday looked around, anywhere but at the patient blue eyes in front of her. “I – uh. I wouldn’t be opposed to it happening again...”

“Great!” Enid literally bounced on the mattress. “I really am so proud of you! I’m telling you, you’re gonna do great here!”

Wednesday soon found herself making a routine of her time at the academy. Classes remained well within her grasp, and she was more careful about ‘backchat’ as Enid called it, making sure that she was respectful of the professor, even when the knowledge they shared was out of date. 

To her surprise, Professor Thornhill had been quite amicable about discussing the virtues of obsidian and jade blades after she approached with her essay, even holding her back after one class to drop off some notes on the subject that she thought Wednesday might find interesting, as well as a beautiful black orchid from her own collection. “I find this plant to be enchanting – it grows best alongside sunflowers. Quite the juxtaposition, no?”

Wednesday had graciously thanked her. She was unused to being seen by those in authority, and found herself uncomfortable as she walked away with the plant tucked in her arms. Enid had beamed at her when she arrived back at the dorm, insisting the plant sit next to the miniature sunflower on a neutral wall shelf.

The rhythm of Nevermore’s academia was comfortable for the dark seer, but that was only half of her curriculum. Learning to navigate the social scene in a boarding school, especially one with such an idiosyncratic structure and hierarchy, was where Wednesday sought the most tuition from her mistress. They continued their extracurricular tuition in the privacy of their dorm, usually dropping their roles and allowing Wednesday to become familiar and practiced at ‘carnal intimacy’, as she insisted on calling it. She quickly became familiar with the particular intimacies of her roommate, learning which toys to use for certain desired outcomes and perfecting the ‘come hither’ motion that had her Mistress crying into her pillow in rapture. One particularly memorable 'tutoring session' saw Enid coming three times as Wednesday steadily plowed her fingers into her, all the while whispering sweet nonsense into her clitoris.

Being bottom of the class meant that she was called on to reward her classmates reasonably regularly. Bianca seemed to thrive on picking her for any reward she was offered. However, she could also be asked to provide the same service to any and all of her classmates, and was. 

It quickly became known that Wednesday had a talent for cunnilingus – in no small part due to Bianca cockily announcing it at any given opportunity – meaning that she often found herself between the thighs of those she shared a classroom with. Sometimes a time limit was placed upon rewards, which led to her working her tongue diligently to bring the other to satisfaction while staving off jaw ache. However, not all red room sessions had a time limit, and not all involved her mouth on someone else's parts. 

In the days that passed, Wednesday managed to avoid earning herself punishment, but her role as bottom of class meant she was still expected to serve her superiors however they chose. And the tastes of her classmates were certainly varied. Sometimes they found their reward in bringing her to climax, rather than looking for their own pleasure. As well as a notable number of times that she had been required to pleasure awardees, the first couple of weeks had also seen her instructed to grind the shoe of one of the fangs until she herself came. Another classmate had asked her to restrain their arms and tickle them until they orgasmed with a shrill scream. The key commonality between all the encounters was that the guidance in Wednesday's file had meant that she had felt comfortable to proceed after each of her tops explained what they were going to do to her, removing unpleasantly unexpected actions from the realm of possibility.

That wasn’t to say that Wednesday was always comfortable in the red room: on the contrary. One of her peers – an unimaginatively named gorgon, Petra – had encased her in latex and rubbed herself all over the immobilised seer, sighing with content as the unusual material squeaked annoyingly. In fairness, she had rewarded Wednesday's compliance with two orgasms, suckling her bud through a hole at the crotch while groping her breasts through the thick and unforgiving material.

The most memorable red room session during that first fortnight was with a faceless woman. Her name was Alice, or Malice as she was routinely called by her classmates. Wednesday knew from her extensive personal studies that faceless communicated differently, given their lack of visual-based sight and mouths. They instead used a telepathic field to ‘talk’ to willing recipients, although some strong-willed individuals could prevent their language from breaching their mental walls. A study had recently shown that the same people were usually more resistant to siren song; Wednesday had spent hours poring over the paper. However, faceless were also empaths, able to experience the emotions of others vicariously, including carnal feelings. Therefore faceless were known to be kind and generous lovers. Usually. Malice clearly had not got the memo.

It had started innocuously enough. Upon receiving the top mark on her paper on irregular lunar events and their effect on the outcast population, Alice had gestured for Wednesday to accompany her to the red room for her reward, stopping by Enid’s desk for the shackle key, as it was common knowledge now that the wolf held the bottom's leash – physically and metaphorically. Knowing her place, Wednesday made her way without fuss. 

She stood in her modified attention position as Alice picked up the ipad. This was now routine. Even Bianca checked the tablet each time she brought her to the red room, ensuring nothing had changed since their last meeting. It allowed Wednesday to extend her trust to the system that safeguarded her and her classmates. Instead of returning the device to its cradle, Alice began tapping the screen. A moment later a robotic female voice spoke aloud.

“ I would like your permission to communicate telepathically. Please indicate if this is acceptable.”

Wednesday looked into the smooth face, realising that she felt less awkward without an opposite gaze to meet hers. “Yes, Miss.”

She felt an intrusion – not painful, but just the sensation of thoughts being pushed into her head that hadn’t originated there. The language the thoughts arranged themselves in was hers; she was interpreting the thoughts appearing in her mind rather than ‘hearing’ what Alice said. 

~Thank you. Refer to me henceforth as Madame Alice. 

“Yes, Madame Alice.”

~I have reviewed your file. You have few limits. I see you require an explanation of my intentions. I wish to challenge you. If you fail I wish to inflict pain upon you. I will gain satisfaction from your response. You may assist me in selecting the tools of your torture. Is this acceptable?

“I- yes Madame Alice. My apologies, I don't know how to respond in kind.”

~Fret not. Very few Faces are capable of mastering our language. Though you have the force of will required, were you to practice. Now, I require you to disrobe. Present your restraints so I might remove them.

Wordlessly, Wednesday offered her wrists and then tilted her head to one side to allow the other woman to remove her shackles and collar. She then quickly undressed, neatly folding her clothes into a pile behind her,

~Come. Select the implements of your torment.

Wednesday stepped up beside the faceless as she turned to pull out a drawer of tools. There were all sorts of items, some she recognised, some she was intimately familiar with from her own torture chamber at the mansion, and some which were new to her. She picked up a Wartenburg pinwheel. The pain could be quite delectable.

~Very well. Another. Perhaps a tool of impact.

She looked up to the wall of floggers and spankers, selecting a thin cane.

~This will suffice. Now, lie on the bench. Supine.

A padded bench lay in the middle of the room, the red leather sculpted to match the shape of the human body. Leather restraints hung from it – more than could ever be required, offering full immobilisation of the occupant. A hole in the head rest also allowed for prone immobilisation without risking the airways of the unfortunate bound there. 

Wednesday stepped up and obediently positioned herself on the cushioned surface, legs slightly apart, arms a little away from her torso. She expected the straps to be applied, but instead the featureless woman merely came and stood over her, moving her head as if she were observing Wednesday's naked form. She almost felt a chill over her flesh where the sightless gaze roamed, unsure if it was real or not. She knew that faceless projected a psychic field which allowed them to ‘see’, in a fashion not dissimilar to a bat’s sonar. She supposed it was theoretically possible that being a psychic herself, she could sense that aura as it caressed her, painting her curves for the sightless top.

Having completed her inspection, the other woman moved her hand up to hover two fingers over Wednesday's face.

~Suck.

She opened her mouth, working her tongue around the lowered digits. This action was quickly becoming familiar to her. The faceless pulled her fingers out, obviously judging them to be sufficiently lubricated. She moved to stand by Wednesday's hips.

~I am going to pleasure you. You will lie still. You will not move. You will not make a sound. You will not climax. When you fail, I will inflict pain. I have noted the limit of no penetration and will abide. Is this acceptable?

Wednesday swallowed before answering. “Yes, Madame Alice.”

~The only noise permitted are your safewords. Is that understood?

“Yes, Madame Alice.”

~Very well. I will commence. Any movement or sound will be punished from this point. Is that clear?

Wednesday didn’t fall for the obvious bait. The faceless had explicitly stated the challenge had already begun, so she stilled herself, breathing through her nose and gazing up at the red ceiling. 

~A pity. I was hoping you would fall for the ruse. I am going to touch you now.

She didn’t react as her labia were spread, and a featherlight touch dragged from her clit down to her entrance and back. Internally, she could feel her heartbeat start to escalate, but she was far from riled. She breathed calmly as the stroking continued, sometimes faster, sometimes slower, sometimes firm and sometimes soft. There wasn’t a pattern, the top seemingly doing as she felt fit in the moment. 

After a few minutes, the attention was focused solely on her clit, the fingers moving around her nub, occasionally brushing over it. She could feel her body responding, blood starting to flood her nether region, but she had the discipline to stay still and quiet. The faceless shifted.

~You have restraint. I will increase the challenge.

Wednesday listened as she stepped over to the side of the room and picked something from a drawer before padding back. She felt something pushed over her clit, cupping over it before the other woman fiddled with the object – she could feel the movement and tremors. For a moment she couldn’t understand what was happening, and then she realised; her flesh was being drawn up with a steady pressure as the faceless screwed whatever it was more tightly. The sensation was odd; not painful and not arousing in itself, just a constant suction pulling her bud outwards.

The other girl leaned over her torso and pressed a similar object over her nipple. She glanced her eyes subtly down without moving her head, curious about what was happening. A small clear tube with a tap-like head was framing her teat. As the faceless twisted the head, her nipple was drawn upwards into the chamber, causing the flesh to swell and tighten. This was more uncomfortable than the one on her clitoris, but well within her tolerance. Alice applied a third sucker to her other nipple, screwing it to draw the dark bud up into the cup.

~I see you watching. I will generously allow this. It is stated that you prefer to know what is happening. Perhaps I should have explained this first. Now you know. These are suction cups. They will bring blood to the area they are applied to and increase sensitivity. I imagine it is quite enthralling.

Wednesday didn’t respond, merely watched as, after a few seconds, Malice tightened each of the screws again, increasing the pressure and drawing more flesh into the little glass chambers. The suction was increased gradually until Wednesday could feel her nipples and clit hardening in the vacuums. The sensation was unlike anything she had experienced. When the pumps were all at their maximum, Malice busied herself away from the bench, leaving Wednesday to stare at the ceiling and remember not to move. After about five minutes, Malice released the seals, drawing the cups away. Her nipples stood far more engorged and prominent than she had ever seen them, and she could only imagine what her clitoris looked like. She could feel her pulse throbbing in the fleshy nub. She fought the urge to clench her legs.

Malice appeared once more in her line of sight, fingers hovered over her mouth.

~Suck. This will not count against you.

Obediently she once again lathed the digits with her tongue as they were pushed into her mouth. Malice resumed her position between her spread thighs. Wednesday had to fight back a flinch as the fingers brushed against her unnaturally swollen clitoris, her jaw tensing. As Alice foretold, the suction had brought the blood to the area, and the sensitivity was increased significantly. 

~This is more satisfying. I can feel you resisting. However, you will break. And I will punish you. Let us see what you can withstand.

With that, the faceless reached over and lightly grasped Wednesday’s erect left nipple, massaging the sensitive peak, teasing it with gentle pulls and the pad of her thumb. At the same time she increased her ministrations on her clit. A tremor ran up Wednesday's thighs, but she repressed it as well as she was able, unsure if her leg had jerked noticeably. Malice stopped.

~Do not think I didn’t see that. That was a movement. But we can make it easier to discern. Stay still.

Malice picked up something from the side, and a faint chiming could be heard. Moving back to her prone subject, she pulled one of the taut nipples between her fingers, before reaching down, holding a tiny metal clothespeg with what appeared to be a small jingle bell attached.

~You don't need me to tell you where this is going. Remember, you may safeword if you wish to stop proceedings. This is your first punishment. And it will help to identify further transgressions.

Wednesday’s eyes followed the bell with anticipation, bracing herself to strangle any noise. Her scenes with Bianca had taught her just how easily moans fell from her throat when her nipples were toyed with, but she was an Addams by birth. She could withstand this torment...

The pain was intense. Wednesday inhaled sharply through her nose as Malice released the clamp. Even with its smooth tips, it bit fiercely into her already heightened nerves. To her pride, the bell made no noise apart from the roll of the little ball settling as the clamp was released. But gods! She could feel it!

While she was still getting over the application of the first clamp, Malice pulled her other teat, quickly securing another bell onto it. Strangely, the addition of another point of discomfort actually diluted the sensation, and Wednesday was able to let out a shaky exhale as the pain spread hotly across her chest. 

However, Malice wasn’t done. She brandished another belled clamp, moving again between her open thighs. 

~This will not penetrate. But I will touch you near your vagina. Safeword if you need to.

With that, Malice pulled the loose little flap of skin between her entrance and her anus; her perineum, clamping the bell in place. Wednesday bit back a gasp at the pinch, tears springing to her eyes. And yet no sound escaped her, and the bells did not chime. And despite the pain, or maybe because of it, she could feel a familiar pressure building in her core. She let her eyes flutter shut, needing to make room for the onslaught of physical sensations. 

~I can sense your arousal. You are quite the wanton lover of pain. I wonder if you could climax from it. We shall see. But I will punish you if you do. 

With that, Malice resumed the delicate tracing of her clitoris, occasionally wetting her fingers with the juice that was now seeping onto pale thighs from Wednesday's clenching core. Wednesday pried her eyes open, staring at the ceiling in an effort to pull her mind from the biting of the clamps and the coaxing touches stoking the embers of her arousal. 

Suddenly something was pushed to her clit – a small, soft thing. And then it began to buzz on her swollen and tremulous nerve centre. Wednesday couldn’t help it; she cried out, jolting away from the intense sensation. The little bells clamoured accusingly. Malice pushed her hand firmly onto Wednesday's torso, steadying her.

~There you are. Breathe. And take your punishment like a good girl.

The hand holding her was moved, and Wednesday watched as the pinwheel was held above her crotch. Malice spread her labia with two fingers, before pushing the pinwheel over the exposed soft flesh. The first pass was light; back and forth, but the sharp little points soon had blood flowing to the area, heightening sensitivity. Malice moved to the other side, applying the same pressure. Wednesday trembled slightly – the blood flowing to her lips, the pinch of the clamps and the phantom touches to her clit were threatening to overwhelm her. The pressure in her core twisted tighter, and she shallowed her breath to try and maintain a semblance of control.

Malice moved back to the first labia, this time pushing the wheel more firmly so the pointed teeth dug into the skin, not enough to pierce, but certainly enough to be felt as little sharp prickles. Wednesday flinched, the bells on her nipples not quite chiming, but the little ball inside rolled around, causing a teasing vibration.

~Stay still.

The faceless switched sides again, rolling the stabbing pins over the sensitive flesh. Wednesday endured staring at the ceiling even as tears finally fell from the corner of her eyes – not from pain but from the onslaught of sensation and the effort of staying still, staying silent. 

Finally, the cruel domme rolled the wheel down, along the inside of each thigh, almost causing a reflexive kick that Wednesday managed to hold back by the skin of her teeth.

~Good. Remember – don't come.

With that the tiny vibe was pushed back to just touch against her clit, while fingers moved to circle it. Immediately the rush of arousal increased, and it was all Wednesday could do not to let out a pitiful squeal. She might have whined a little, but the buzzing from the device seemed to cover it, as the massaging did not stop. Diligently, Malice moved the vibe while caressing up and down along her slit and back around her engorged nub. Each pass was another level of hell as she struggled to keep her body from reacting to the teasing touches.

She almost sobbed with relief when the stroking hand moved away, only to scream as the clamp was pulled from her left nipple without warning, causing her to bolt upright and move her hand to rub the throbbing teat but her wrist was caught in a firm grasp.

~Hmm. You seem to have trouble with staying quiet. You moan like a cheap prostitute. Now, lie down. 

Shakily, she complied. This time Malice paused, securing straps around her wrists and below her breasts. It was a mercy really, removing some of the burden from her laden psyche. The pain of the blood returning to her previously clamped teat was far worse than the pain of the clamp itself, or its subsequent removal, pulsing her entire breast with angry heat which seemed to only add to the pressure in her core.

When she was restrained, Alice nonchalantly pulled the other clamp from her right breast in a quick movement, causing another gasp of pain to escape her, the tears that had already fallen now joined by others that ran hotly down her cheek. And yet the arousal once again heightened, the agony morphing into something euphoric that was lifting her higher and higher. She needed release, and the gentle removal of the clamp from her perineum did nothing to lessen the agony of returning blood to the sensitive skin. Her belly convulsed as she struggled to maintain her composure, and she was powerless to prevent a moan squeezing from her throat. 

~Don't come~ , came the warning again. Wednesday wasn’t sure if she could hold it back. A gentle touch or a harsh one seemed to amplify the intense heat building in her. But she steeled herself for whatever came next, eyes scrunched shut and jaw tight.

Thwack! A searing line of pain across her sole. She flinched – she knew it, but she refrained from crying out. And this pain was easier to focus on without driving to her core, unexpected as it was in both intensity and location.

Thwack! Her other foot was similarly branded with the sharp pain from the rattan cane she had chosen. She didn’t flinch this time.

The next strike was on the same foot, at an angle and slightly crossing the first line of pain. She hissed a breath through her teeth, but didn’t move, not even when another cracking impact was delivered to her first foot. A series of lighter blows was then distributed up and down the arches of her feet – none of them as hard as the first blows, but cumulatively they started to coil and twist and smoulder with a low pain that crept to her core the harder she tried to control her reactions. 

And then the vibe was back, ghosting her clit even while her feet were being tormented. She couldn't help it – she writhed, her legs flailing as she tried to push herself back, though she was pinned by the strap around her upper torso, only succeeding in pushing her aching soles into the leather top and thrusting her hips wildly while the vibe followed relentlessly. The pain and the pleasure and the intense sensations reached a crescendo, and she was forced to call out before she lost herself.

“Yellow! Yellow!”

Immediately everything stopped – the cane and vibe stilling, immediately pulling away from her.

~It’s alright. Breathe. I’m going to touch you – it will help you ground yourself.

A hand pushed firmly across her chest – not sensually, just driving her arched back down against the bench. Her eyes were still clamped shut, and she pulled shaky breaths into her lungs, letting herself fall limp once again on the cushioned surface as the domme’s thoughts pushed into her mind.

~Well done. Breathe. You have done well. What do you require?

She peeled her eyes open, looking at the featureless visage above her.

“I- “ She panted, swallowing before trying again. “I was going to come. I couldn’t hold it. I’m sorry, Madame.”

~And yet you did. You have. Your performance has been impressive. Do you wish to stop? Or, we can continue, but I will remove the penalty for climaxing. After that, I will consider the session concluded to both of our satisfaction. It is your choice.

Wednesday sighed. She was trembling, full of so many emotions and sensations. The cleansing sweep of climax was all she wanted – what she needed. And the fact of a task unfinished was still something she couldn’t leave alone.

“Please, Madame. I need to finish.”

~Very well. Tell me you are green and I will end it. It will be intense, but it will be worth it.

She lay fully onto the bench, back into her vulnerable position and took a deep breath. “Thank you, Madame. I’m green.”

~Very well.

With that a stinging blow was delivered from the cane across her upturned palm. She gasped, but the next blow was already landing on the abused sole of her right foot. Alice moved around, swatting at her seemingly without pattern or plan, all the while ghosting the vibe over her clit. Wednesday jerked as the onslaught of sensations immediately gathered in her core, the tension in her abdomen a new type of pleasurable pain to layer on top of everything else. The cane clattered to the floor as Alice moved to stand between her legs, dropping the vibe to tug and tease and rub her clit directly with her fingers. Wednesday strained against the belt holding her down, back arching, hips thrusting as she sobbed, the edge of her climax dangling so close but remaining just out of reach. 

“Oh fuck! Please! Mistress, please!” Her eyes were screwed shut, tears squeezing through her lashes as she writhed and wailed. And then a hard slap landed on her sore and sensitive left breast, quickly followed by one to her right, with the force of the word COME! thrust into her mind. The burning pain transformed into flashing light that surged through her, and she was coming, harder than she had ever experienced before. The release itself was a heady blend of that dark pain and throbbing pleasure that had blurred her and reduced her to nothing more than visceral need. She convulsed, crying out as the faceless continued to rain sharp blows on her chest and rub at her clitoris until her vision went white. With a final wordless cry, she fell limp, the hands removed from her immediately. 

When her senses returned to her, she could feel the weight of a warm hand pushed onto her chest once more, resting above her bosom. Letting her eyes fall open, she lolled her head to the faceless. It might have been the light reflecting from the red walls, but the other women seemed to be flushed.

~Well done. You have been a most excellent plaything. Good girl.~ The thoughts entering her head were fuzzier than the previous sharp directives. Malice moved to undo the straps, offering her a hand to steady herself as she moved upright. ~ I hope that was not too much. I would very much like to see how far you can go with practice. It is rare to find someone able to withstand my predilections.

Wednesday looked down, needing space to find her thoughts. “Thank you, Madame. That was... a lot. I... I don't know if I could do it regularly. But... I would not be against repeating the experience.”

~Be careful what you wish for, little thing. I’ll test you further next time.~ The faceless stilled, before pushing a softer thought. ~ You should bathe tonight. You will be sore. I will inform your Mistress that you may need additional aftercare. You may seek me out if you prefer, or if she is not inclined to offer it, but I understand she is your preferred source of comfort.

“Thank you, Madame.”

By the time the following Thursday dawned with the promise (and threat) of her first therapy session, Wednesday was starting to feel settled at Nevermore. She had found her routine, she knew her place (even if it still rankled) and could appreciate the boundaries that safeguarded her and her fellow students. 

She left the penultimate lesson of the day 15 minutes early, as previously arranged in her Remedial Behaviour session with Weems on Sunday. The teacher had obviously been informed, even prompting her to pack up her belongings with a quiet whisper as her classmates studied. Enid winked at her and offered a quiet “Good luck” as she made her way from the desk.

Weems herself met Wednesday at the front of the school, ushering her into a small changing area where she removed Wednesday’s shackles and provided her with clean pairs of underwear and tights, one of her own bras and a standard blouse before exiting to allow her to adjust her uniform, advising her to leave the extra items there to be recovered on their return. The headmistress was dressed in a smart business suit in her customary cream.

As Wednesday fastened her seatbelt in the surprisingly non-descript minivan, the principal turned to her.

“Wednesday, I just want to say that I am so proud of the way you’ve settled in. I know that this was a considerably different experience than you were expecting, but you have shown admirable dedication to making this work, for all of us. I hope that you find these therapy sessions beneficial. I know it can be daunting, but if you show the same adaptability and drive you’ve already demonstrated, I think you’ll do well. However, if you have any qualms whatsoever, please do feel you can come to me.”

Wednesday glanced into the warm blue eyes before dropping her gaze to her lap, nodding once. “Thank you, Head Mistress. I shall remember.”

“Excellent!” With that, the engine started and she was chauffeured cautiously to the small town of Jericho. They pulled up in a small plaza in the centre, around which were most of the amenities and commercial premises of the settlement. 

Prior to heading into Doctor Valerie Kinbott's office, Weems had advised that the doctor was indeed aware of the unusual curriculum at Nevermore, and Wednesday could choose to disclose as much or as little as she wanted to about her curricular and extra-curricular activities. 

Kinbott turned out to be a somewhat beige individual. Her office followed the aesthetic. An awkward start where Wednesday responded largely in monosyllabic grunts finally warmed when she discovered the therapist – unlikely as it seemed – shared her love of taxidermy. After a discussion about preferred techniques and stuffing materials, Wednesday found she was able to start to open up about her experience thus far at Nevermore. In particular, Kinbott showed great admiration that Wednesday had already recognised her alexithymia. This led to a conversation about Enid and her role in supporting the seer's integration. The doctor didn’t push. She asked open questions but respected or accepted when Wednesday couldn’t or wouldn’t answer.

Before the allotted time was up, Kinbott seemed to recognise that Wednesday was struggling to maintain such a prolonged introspection, her answers becoming more short and irate. Wrapping up about twenty minutes early, she praised the progress that Wednesday had already made during her first two weeks, promising that they could have a more free-ranging session next time now that she had some background. 

When she asked if Wednesday had found the session useful, the seer realised that she had been initially stressed about the meeting, but had ultimately found an unexpected sense of validation from the beige woman. The sheer amount of time spent talking about herself was somewhat overwhelming and she decided she needed to process her feelings before saying whether she felt any different. She struggled to enunciate the thought as articulately as she would like, but Kinbott allowed her the time to pull something of that sentiment out. With a promise to bring in some of her ongoing taxidermy projects for the next session, Valerie Kinbott cheerfully bid Wednesday goodbye.

On exiting the building, Wednesday found no sign of the headmistress or her minivan, though the woman had mentioned needing to run some errands and had instructed that Wednesday could meet her in the local coffee shop – the Weathervane – if she wasn’t back by the time the session finished. Identifying the corner cafe, she slowly made her way to it. 

Thankfully the establishment was quiet when she stepped through the chiming door. It was a little before four, so she supposed it was not a reflection on the quality of the beverages, which even to her discerning palate smelt enticing. She moved to the counter, where only a mousy-brown mop of hair was visible of the barista, who was crouching to retrieve something from under the counter. 

“Whoa!” he exclaimed as he registered her presence. “Sorry– didn't hear you there. Must be some kinda ninja or something!” He gave her what he probably thought was a winsome grin. She rewarded it with her usual impassivity. 

“Quad over ice. Please.”

His smile dropped a bit. “Sure. So, I haven't seen you around before. You an exchange student at the academy or something?”

“Or something,” she deflected. She didn’t have the mental capacity for chit chat today. The session had left her drained of all her ability to play nice (small as those reserves were at the best of times). Thankfully he seemed to take the hint, turning to prepare her drink. 

“I’ll bring it over. Sit wherever you can find a space,” he said drolly, gesturing to the empty tables.

Wordlessly, she moved to a booth facing the door. It served the purpose of being handy to spot the head mistress when she arrived, and facing away from the gormless boy behind the counter. She laced her hands, resting them on the tabletop and staring blankly at the grain of the wood, letting her mind quiet with the hiss and bubble of the espresso machine. 

The bell on the door rang but she paid it no heed until three pairs of buckled shoes circled her booth.

“Move it, freak. This is our booth.”

Wednesday looked up into the face of the speaker. A sneering adolescent boy in what appeared to be a sixteenth-century pilgrim costume – or an approximation of one. The buckles were early eighteenth-century in style and the cravat was about half a century ahead of its time. And the speaker was African-American. Why anyone of colour would choose to dress like a racist Puritanical misogynist was beyond her.

“Why are you dressed like religious fanatics?” she asked, genuinely taken aback by their sudden and baffling appearance.

“We work at Pilgrim World, obviously!“ He sneered at her like she was the one out of place in a twenty-first century setting, pulling a leaflet she’d ignored across the table. It depicted two happy Puritans in front of a rickety looking roller coaster.

“What kind of idiot would devote a theme park to a group of zealots responsible for mass genocide?”

“Hey! My dad owns Pilgrim World!” exclaimed the apparent ring leader – the only one with adequate brainpower to form words, apparently. He stepped forward to loom over her, fists bunched. She stood, never one to back down before a challenge, forcing him to step back or have her crown connect with his clenched jaw.

“Hey! Guys! Back off!” Tyler moved over hurriedly, her drink in hand. One of the bullies stuck out a foot, sending him tripping. The drink sailed from his hands, splashing over Wednesday's skirt and shoes. The pilgrims chortled, slapping each other on the back. Wednesday stood motionless. The ice cold liquid pooled around her feet and dripped down her legs, the sensation feeling slidey and sickening to her. She seethed quietly.

“S-sorry!” the hapless boy stuttered. One of the two goons grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him back and shoving him away. 

“Stay out of this, Tyler. You wouldn’t want to disappoint daddy again, would you?”

The meagre fight in the barista’s eyes fled. He looked up at Wednesday, holding his hands out. “Sorry. I can’t get involved.” Shamefully, he ducked his head, moving back.

“Just you and me, freak,” smirked the leader. “You gonna keep standing in my way?” He reached out, moving to grasp Wednesday’s wrist in painful grip. Something in her coiled tightly in repulsion at the uninvited contact. And then it snapped. She yanked her hand loose and shoved him back, both hands planted on his sternum. As he stumbled, one of his cohorts grumbled something unintelligible, taking a wild swing towards her. She ducked, and his momentum carried his fist to the other goon's face. 

“Hey!” The leader moved back in, aiming to grab her jacket. She swiped both arms down as he grasped her lapels, breaking the hold before pulling him towards her by his own collar, her forehead crunching into his nose. He spun away, swearing.

A heavy hand landed on her shoulder. She stepped back, stomping onto the buckled foot behind her before circling to place a knee in the portly stomach of the uninjured goon. He went down wheezing.

The now red-faced boy – the largest of the three – faced off with her. She saw his intent before he moved as he lunged forward. Neatly she sidestepped, pushing him over as he tumbled headfirst into the table with a sickening thump.

“HEY!” A man’s voice roared. She looked up. A sheriff stood in the door, brimmed hat and star clearly visible, hand on holstered gun. She froze. As a person of colour, her parents had long ago impressed upon her the importance of understanding that when a police officer was armed, you treat them with the authority they thought they were entitled to, and let the legal team deal with everything that follows.

“Dad!” Taylor gasped. “It wasn’t her...”

“Tyler! Don't tell me you were involved in this?” The man glanced sidelong at his son, but kept himself facing her.

“No, sir. But...”

“But nothing. I just saw this girl assaulting a man. Git over there and check on him.”

Tyler scampered to do as bidden. The bully groaned, clearly not unconscious or unduly harmed. Still, Wednesday remained motionless, giving no provocation to the twitchy officer.

The cop surveyed her up and down,  a look of recognition forming in his eyes. “You’re Addams, ain’t ya. Didn't take long for you to start causing trouble, did it? I’m gonna need to take you in. Don't make this worse than it looks.”

Wordlessly she raised her hands, turning around slowly. She knew this drill. Her hands were pulled down in turn and cinched in cool steel. The Sheriff grasped her shoulder firmly, speaking into his radio behind her, but the words were muffled and incomprehensible as a high-pitched ringing rose in her ears. She zoned out, head bowed until she was tugged back and forced to walk from the shop out to a waiting police car. She climbed in as directed, finally raising her head to look out the window as the car pulled away, straight into the wide, shocked gaze of Head Mistress Larissa Weems. 

As their eyes locked, she saw the familiar cloud of anger and disappointment – the hallmark of all the adults she had encountered during her education. Dejected, she slumped, head hanging. For the first time, the weight of disappointment fell heavily across her. For the first time, she felt the consequences of her actions, and the threat of losing everything she held dear.

Wednesday sat on the cot in the cell, back against the wall, arms curled around her legs. Her face was hidden, forehead pressed to her knees. The scent of cold coffee clung to her, making her feel slightly nauseous.

The Sheriff had initially taken her to the interrogation chamber. He'd tried to get her to give a statement. She'd said nothing apart from to request her lawyer. He'd eventually relented, leaving her with a bleak message.

“I'm obliged to report this to the court. You haven't been charged at this time, but as a felon on a suspended sentence, any arrest has to be reported immediately. Without your statement, all I got is what I saw.”

The image of cold disappointment in Weems’ eyes haunted her. She couldn't remember a time when a non-familial adult had expressed pride in her. And within hours she'd ruined it with her impulsivity. This had been her last chance, and it was one she'd been willing to accept. She'd allowed herself to believe she could be what everyone needed her to be. What her family needed her to be. And once again she'd brought it all crashing down. 

Looking up at the flickering strip light, Wednesday allowed herself to openly cry for the first time in a decade. At age 18, she'd effectively ended her best shot at life. And her biggest regret was that she wouldn't get to say goodbye to the place she had started to think of as home.