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"Is there something else," she asked? " You said that you would not punish me with the cane again unless I asked, so I ask that you use the cane or any other method you wish to punish me."Sindi's face softened some more and then she casually said, "Go get the cane." I went to retrieve it and presented it to her. She stood up and said, "Turn around and hold up your uniform." I did so and waited for the first blow to fall. It nearly lifted me out of my heels when it did, and before I could catch my balance good the next blow landed. I steeled myself and gritted my teeth and took blow after blow. She picked up speed and traveled up and down between my butt and my legs. The pain was a blur I couldn't even tell where she was hitting me and then realized that she had stopped. She had dropped the cane and had her hand under her skirt furiously rubbing her pussy. Her juices were running down her legs and she screamed out and dropped to the floor. My pain had vanished for several seconds as I. I got a call from DJ, and answered in my playful Russian voice. "Hello Dahlink! Dis is Natasha! Vill you be here soon?" Laurie was laughing, and I was having trouble hearing with the jukebox blaring, but did manage to understand that DJ wouldn't be joining us. He said he wasn't feeling well, and told us to have a good time."Oh Ve Vill, Dahlink!" I answered, staying with my lame Russian accent, drawing more laughter from my tipsy friend.I guess we were a little too loud as we finally caught the young pool player's attention. He came over to our table and asked if we were from Eastern Europe. I just giggled back at him, but Laurie took the charade a little further."Russia!" she corrected him, as I could barely hold back my laughter. "Dis is my friend Natasha, and I am Ludmila." Nice to meet you ladies. I'm Bruce." He politely played along, and bought us a couple more vodka lemonades. "I've seen you two before, but had no idea you weren't American. What brings you to Iowa?"I was ready.
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The eyes of a battlemage. Words knotted in his throat. When she closed those eyes and began murmuring he swept his own over her in an appraising glance while removing his right gauntlet. The brown hair which fell behind her shoulders to mid-thigh was dull. Her simple ankle-length robe matched the lapis lazuli of her pupils. It had not been changed in the six days since the battle had begun, nor had it been slept in. The robe's only adornments were two small patterns of interwoven gold and silver threads where the hood attached at either side of the neck closure. They indicated her specialty and her rank amongst the warmages, and they were dull. He knew that was an indicator of her physical condition to her brothers and sisters in magic. He did not need their power to know that reviving potions worked only so long against fatigue toxins. Her once flawless face had tiny lines at the corners of eyes and mouth, and her reactions were slightly, but noticeably, slower to his accustomed.

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