Cameron To Candy

Candy didn’t sleep well that night. Marcus had given her an extra swat with his hand. It had been his own choice. Sure, it was just one to highlight his point, but he’d never really given a punishment of his own choosing before. She didn’t like that. He hadn't said much more afterwards, other than handing her the balm and reminding her in that maddeningly thorough way to apply it properly. The immediate problem, though, was that every time she shifted in the bed, the consequences of that night’s correction made themselves known in sharp, unwelcome reminders.

They had slept, as always, on opposite edges of the wide mattress with plenty of distance between them, and plenty of throbbing reminders that refused to let her forget they were no longer equals in their relationship.

By morning, walking felt manageable. Sitting, however, was a different story entirely. Candy approached the breakfast table with the slow, careful dignity of someone attempting to look normal while her backside throbbed. Marcus glanced up once from his tea, his expression neutral, and said nothing. Of course he said nothing. He rarely commented on mornings after maintenance, as if ignoring it somehow made the situation less obvious. But then, if he brought it up she’d absolutely bawl him out, so…

She lowered herself toward the hard wooden chair with all the grace of someone descending onto hot coals. The instant her weight settled, pain flared sharp and immediate. Candy sucked in a breath through her nose and forced her face into something resembling composure.

Across the table, Lennie watched with bright, sympathetic eyes. Without a word, Lennie reached behind her and lifted the soft cushion from her own chair.

“Oh!” she said cheerfully. “Here, you can have mine.”

Candy blinked, caught off guard by the simple kindness. “Thank you,” she said, stacking Lennie’s cushion on top of her own and adjusting both of them with exaggerated care. When she sat again, the difference was immediate. Not comfortable, not even close, but survivable.

“Oh, I know,” Lennie added knowingly, nodding with complete sincerity. “It can be really hard after correction.”

Candy froze for half a second before forcing herself to nod casually. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, it can.”

Marcus hid whatever expression he might have made behind his teacup.

***

Later that morning, the house settled into departure energy. Trunks were opened, ribbons folded, and shoes packed with the strange efficiency of someone who had practised the process many times before. Candy lingered near the guest room doorway, watching Lennie tuck the final bundle of garments into her case. The carriage would arrive soon. Too soon, maybe. Or not soon enough.

Candy cleared her throat. “Hey,” she said.

Lennie looked up instantly. “Oh! Hi!”

Candy stepped inside, rubbing the back of her neck as she tried to sound casual. “Sorry,” she said. “That I couldn’t stay with you.”

Lennie waved the apology away immediately. “Oh, I understand!” she said brightly. “You had your maintenance.”

Candy winced at the word Maintenance. It was not something that had been paired with positive things.

“That sounded like a pretty severe maintenance,” Lennie added thoughtfully.

Candy hesitated before answering. “Sometimes,” she said carefully, “Marcus does extra. You know. I am from the troublegirl program. He needs to keep me in line.” Even as the words left her mouth, Candy felt her soul recoil. Ugh. I cannot believe I just said that.

Lennie nodded seriously. “Oh, I understand completely.”

Candy gapped. “…You do?”

“Yes!” Lennie said. “Actually, I am kind of glad.”

Candy frowned. “You are???”

“Well,” Lennie continued earnestly while folding a sleeve perfectly, “a lot of the women in the family worry about Marcus.”

Candy stared at her. “…They what?”

“Well, he’s such a softie,” Lennie explained. “I mean, I've knocked over a dozen things since getting here and contradicted him about being flustered, and still no corner time, or recitations, or spanking or anything! And, well, we didn’t know if he would be able to handle someone with, you know…” She gestured vaguely toward Candy, “your fiery spirit.” Candy's eyes narrowed. “And since you didn’t grow up here,” Lennie went on, “we worried you might need more direction. A firm hand." Candy felt something inside her shriek at the phrase. "It’s not fair to you if he doesn’t train you right, you know?”

Candy smiled, or at least arranged her face into something that passed for one. In a rare moment, her practical side overruled her pride. She'd nip this in the bud here. “Oh,” she intoned in a sickeningly sweet voice. “Thank you so much for your concern,” she said while her inner Cameron screamed into the void. “You're right, I do need a firm hand, but rest assured,” she pantomimed a solemn face, while clasping her hands to her heart, “Marcus is that firm hand for me. He regularly bends me over and bruises my bottom to keep me in line. Right now I can barely sit down! ”

Lennie gasped, then squealed in delight. She clapped her hands together with genuine excitement.

“Oh, I am so glad!” she beamed, bouncing on her heels. “Mother and Aunt Eleanor will be so happy to hear that!” Candy felt her stomach drop at once. Of course it was going to go through the female network. Of course it was. Wonderful, just wonderful. Still glowing with excitement, Lennie leaned forward suddenly. “Come here!” she said.

Candy barely had time to react before Lennie wrapped her in an enthusiastic hug. Unfortunately, Lennie’s enhanced chest pressed forward at just the wrong angle, making unexpected contact that neither of them anticipated. Lennie stiffened, then went weak, her knees buckling slightly beneath her.

Candy grabbed her shoulders instinctively. “Hey, are you okay?”

Lennie flushed bright red. “Uh, yeah,” she said quickly. “Sorry.”

She shifted awkwardly before continuing in a smaller voice. “Thee uh, the, the size isn’t the only thing that was enhanced with these. They are really sensitive. I uh, I’m sorry, I need to go change. You understand!” she yelled as she turned toward her room, face burning red.

Candy thought about it. “Ah,” she said. “Yes. I understand.” She didn’t fully understand, but she pretended convincingly, and one day the spell would shift her again, just a bit, and she’d look back on this experience with a little better understanding of what had just happened.

Lennie reappeared a few minutes later, beaming. “Look! Look! My breasts shrank back to normal! Just now! Thank the gods!”

Candy and Marcus peered down. They had, in fact, shrunken to what Candy would guess would be B cups. Wait, you have to have a band size too or the cups don't mean much, she thought, reflecting on her new knowledge of women’s garments. Maybe, 34B's? Candy was learning, just not as quickly as perhaps she should. Whatever the size, Lennie's blouse looked considerably less strained than anything else she'd worn that weekend.

***

The rest of the morning passed without disaster. Within an hour, Lennie was fully packed. Within two hours, the carriage arrived, hooves clattering outside as the driver called out the carriage's presence.

Marcus stepped forward first and hugged Lennie carefully, with visible caution. Just in case.

“You were a good guest,” he said warmly.

Lennie beamed. “I tried!”

Candy stepped forward next, and Lennie hugged her again, this time more cautiously than before.

“You were great kiddo. Call me on the mirror during the next theme week,” Candy said with a grin.

Lennie nodded eagerly. “I will!” Then PLINK!

All eyes went to the crystal in Lennie's choker. She reached up and plucked it from it’s position then studied it.

“Oh my gods! I got a good house guest pin! Cousin authority tier one! EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” She squealed in delight, bouncing on her heels, then flung herself at Marcus for another hug. He laughed, returning it.

“Good for you Lennie! You deserve it,” he praised.

Moments later, Lennie climbed into the carriage and the door shut behind her. The horses started forward, wheels rolling steadily down the road. Lennie waved from the window then went back to dreamily reading the pin name that had floated across the service of her gem. She’d have to look up what rewards came with it. She hoped there’d be a few copper as she had her eyes on a new purse.

Candy and Marcus stood side by side as the carriage disappeared into the distance. Silence settled once it vanished from sight. Marcus exhaled slowl, while. Candy rubbed the back of her neck.

“Well,” she muttered. “That went mostly okay.”

Marcus gave her a look.

“Mostly,” he agreed. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh I have a bit of a headache." Marcus cocked a brow. "Oh, yes, my backsides killing me, if that's what you meant." Candy had to give Marus a hard time there, just a bit. It's the only way she could feel she had any control of her situation.

As they turned to go back into the house Candy found herself reflecting on the visit, and she was surprised to realise she’d miss Lennie, and all her wacky, sincere earnestness. Also, it was a pity the big jugs hadn’t been permanent.

***

Three days later, Marcus returned home from errands to find the hallway mirror softly glowing, waiting with the steady pulse that meant a stored message had arrived.

He frowned. “Great,” he muttered.

He tapped the frame, and the stored message flickered to life. His father’s face appeared in the glass, serious and already halfway into disappointment.

“Is this on?”

“Yes,” his mother's voice came from the background. “It’s recording right now, husband.”

His father grumbled and then continued. “Son…” Marcus sighed internally as he braced himself. “Rumour has it,” his father continued, “that you gave Candy fifteen extra strokes with the tawse for maintenance.”

Marcus closed his eyes slowly. Of course. Of course the news had travelled the family's female network and reached his father via his mother.

In the message, his father nodded once, thoughtfully. “That is a pretty heavy maintenance.” There was a pause. Then his father added, with quiet approval, “I agree with your decision. It’s about time, actually. Good job keeping her in line, son. Keep it up.”

The message ended, and the mirror went dark. Marcus stood there for a long moment before dragging a hand down his face.

“Of course he does,” he muttered.

Behind him, from the kitchen, Candy called out, “Who was that?”

Marcus sighed again, shaking his head.

“Family. Just family.”