Back to School, Part Three
As part of a means of breaking the ice, we all had little sheets of stickers. If you liked someone’s outfit, you could give them a sticker. If somebody said something clever, you could give them a sticker. If you were too shy to flirt: sticker.
The Librarian had started up with hitting people with a ruler over some matter with the stickers, and it was clear that she was going to get her just deserts. Flint had twisted one of her arms up her back and was hitting her with a threatening-looking flap of rubber. Bruises were darkening on her skin already, but she was taking it like a champ.
“Hey,” Lida said. She and I and one of Flint’s other partners were sharing an armchair. She’d snatched a whole book of stickers from somewhere and started applying them to my cleavage.
A little earlier, she’d been shy about talking to a pretty girl I know and I’d pretty smoothly introduced them before dipping seamlessly out of the conversation. I figured maybe the chest full of stickers was partially a thank you for that and partially a demonstration that she wasn’t upset over how hard I’d spanked her.
“Where’d you get those?” I asked.
Lida shrugged, “just took ‘em.”