Yes, Ma'am

Tifa feels a bit foolish, dressed up like this. The skirt is so short that it rides up whenever Tifa shifts. And the white blouse, a size too small and unbuttoned on top, so that the swell of Tifa's breasts are quite visible.

"Miss Lockhart..." Aerith looks down her nose at Tifa, over her glasses. "Do you know why I called you to my office?" She shuffles the papers on her desk. They're using an actual desk, albeit an old, wobbly one that has been in Leon's basement forever. At least it's small enough to fit in the room (and easy enough to shlep up all the steps).

"No, ma'am," Tifa mumbles, examining her shoes. Her regular boots, at least; she couldn't find any Mary Janes that would fit her.

"You were in a fight." Aerith's voice is cold.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Tifa mumbles. When Aerith had first suggested this idea to her, Tifa had thought Aerith would do the "ma'am"-ing, with Tifa in the black dress and the spectacles. But Aerith is so very authoritative, glaring at Tifa over said spectacles. She kept her bow, though.

"And why were you fighting?"

"He deserved it," Tifa says, keeping her eyes down. If she looks Aerith in the face, she will burst out laughing. And that would really ruin the mood.

"I see." Aerith stands up, moving to sit on the bed. They agreed earlier that, if Tifa is to lie in Aerith's lap, it must be in such a way that she will fit, without bits of her dangling off. "Come here, girl."

"What?" Tifa shoots a quick glance up at her.

"I said, come here." Aerith is stern, now. "Questioning me will only exacerbate your punishment."

"Punishment?" Tifa takes a step closer, feeling something in her belly flutter.

"You didn't think you could fight and not get in trouble, did you?"

"No, ma'am," Tifa says.

"If you do not come here right now, your punishment will be doubled," Aerith warns.

"Yes, ma'am," Tifa says, and stands directly in front of of Aerith, knee to knee.

"Do you know what your punishment is?" Aerith looks up at Tifa grinning a bit in spite of herself. She's Aerith; she always has a bit of good humor, creeping around the edges.

"No, ma'am," Tifa lies. They discussed this, in great detail, the day before.

"You seem to only understand violence," Aerith says sharply. "I'm going to spank you."

"What? You can't do that!" Tifa tries for teenage outrage. She doesn't get all of it, but it works well enough to get the point across.

Aerith grabs Tifa's hip and tugs.

Tifa is stronger then Aerith, much stronger (physically, at least). But in this game they're playing, Aerith is the grown up, the strong on.

So Tifa lets Aerith pull her across her lap, although she squirms just enough to put up a token resistance. She squirms and wriggles, mainly to add to the role (and because when she wriggles a certain way, Aerith's knee presses right where it can be appreciated).

"Stay still," Aerith orders, her hand going to Tifa's backside. She rubs it through the fabric of Tifa's skirt and panties, then lands a hard smack on it.

Tifa yelps and jumps. She can feel the heat radiating from the spot where Aerith hit her, from the handprint to the place between her legs, sending urgent, conded messages all over her body. She groans trying to grind her hips.

"You're a brat," Aerith says, landing another slap. She flips Tifa's skirt up, for better access to her bottom, and hits her again, this time with only the thin white panties as a barrier between her hand and Tifa's skin.

Tifa squirms more, more to get friction the to get away. Who would think sweet, quiet Aerith capable of of this? "S-stop," She groans, knowing Aerith won't. She'd never do something that horrible.

Aerith keeps raining down blows, hard and quick on Tifa's poor bum, as it turns redder and redder, until heat can be felt through the fabric of Tifa's panties. She finally lets up, stroking Tifa's back. "Are you going to be a good girl now?"

"Yes, ma'am," Tifa breathes. She can feel Aerith's hand move lower, lower, right at the spot where her thighs meet her bum.

"Are you going to be a good girl now?" Aerith's fingers stroke the front of Tifa's panties, feeling the moisture under her fingernail. "I only ever let good girls come," She says, hooking her fingers and tugging the leg of Tifa's panties aside, stroking the front of her pussy gently, oh-so-gently.

"O-okay," Tifa says. She closes her eyes and whimpers, rocking into Aerith's hand.

Aerith chuckles and slides her fingers in, right where Tifa is wettest. She curls them, pressing down on Tifa's G-Spot, her knuckle bumping against Tifa's clit. "You're trouble," She says affectionately, and begins to thrust her fingers in, slowly, to match the rolling of Tifa's hips.

Tifa clutches at Aerith's thigh, closing her eyes and trying to breathe slowly and evenly. Also, trying not to rip Aerith's dress, because that would really piss off Aerith. So instead, she rolls her hips and tries to remember to breathe.


Aerith smirks, twisting her fingers just so, and she practically cackles as she feels Tifa's muscles clench around her. She always knows what gets to Tifa. "You alright?" She asks in her normal voice.

Tifa peeks up at her, looking embarrassed. "Next time, you wear the skirt," she says.

Aerith rolls her eyes and lands another slap on Tifa's sore bum. "Your punishment isn't over yet, girl," She says, back in teacher mode. She gapes her knees under Tifa's belly.

Tifa grins. "Yes, ma'am," She says, and begins to slide off of Aerith's lap.