Tom pulled into the stream of High Street traffic and casually remarked, “Clarissa Cavendish?”“Yes,” I stabbed at him, “what of her?”“I ...asn’t aware you knew her.” His voice was quiet, my pretend deafness ignored. For years, my supposed hearing problem allowed us to travel in silence, a situation we were both at ease with.“I know that, Tom. I never told you.”He gave me a sideways grimace. “Are you going to tell me now?”“I doubt it would be of interest to you ... or anyone for that matter.”Tom. Miss Summers looked longingly one last time at Miss Coe’s bottom and giving two not too light smacks ordered, “Get up, Miss Coe. Consider yourself punished.”Miss Coe eased herself up and waiting for Miss Summers approval saw her nod her head then immediately rubbed her bottom feverishly.Miss Summers was happy with the pained look on Miss Coe’s face and, turning, left the study and made her way to the staff toilets to satisfy her desire for an orgasm. She would be picturing Leanne across her lap. More

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