'Now, Master Erasmus,' said the King severely next day. 'Are you quite sure this time? We've plenty of knights left but we're running out of princesses.'A fitting reward for three brave princesses, don't you think?
'I've checked and re-checked,' said the anxious magician. 'This time it's a hundred per cent certain. If a virgin princess is publicly whipped, her tears will mean death for the dragon.'
'Very well,' said Queen Marguerite. 'Lisette – where's Lisette?'
The plump, mischievous honey-blonde had certainly been in the Throne Room a few minutes earlier. Now, her chair was empty.
'I wish I'd had the sense to disappear in time yesterday,' murmured Miranda to Crystal.
'The Lord Chamberlain will organise a search party,' said the Queen. 'I take it everyone is volunteering to help?'
Everybody was. It took them an hour and three-quarters to track Lisette down to a remote garret in a disused wing of the palace. Before they got her back to the Throne Room she had bitten two ladies in waiting and kicked a Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod in an acutely sensitive area.
'I'm surprised at you, Lisette,' said King Fedor. 'After all, this is for the benefit of our beloved people. Just think of the poor peasants cowering in their scorched fields.'
'Sod the poor peasants!' said Lisette. 'I'd rather have their fields scorched than my arse!'
'I've always said she spent too much time in the sergeant's mess of the Household Cavalry,' remarked Queen Marguerite.
'My dear,' said King Fedor, 'you've dealt admirably with Crystal and Miranda. Now it's time for me to do my share.'
He paused, noting the rebellious eye of his tousled and defiant daughter, and glanced at the nearest courtiers. 'Perhaps some of you would like to help?'
Eager hands placed a sturdy, richly-upholstered stool in the centre of the floor. Others hauled Lisette willy-nilly across it to lie face downwards, kicking, cursing and helpless. It was the King himself who turned up her skirt and lowered her lacy black panties to reveal a plump, pearly, dimpled bottom so inviting that a sigh of anticipatory pleasure arose from the spectators.
'I've had a birch-rod soaking overnight,' said Queen Marguerite, and produced it from behind the throne to hand to the King.
'For the good of the country!' said King Fedor, solemnly, as he took careful aim at Lisette's beautifully-rounded rump.
The courtiers watched spellbound as the stinging twigs hissed down to scorch Lisette's squirming, smarting buttocks, rose and descended again, rose and... Some of the court ladies, flushed and bright-eyed, were visibly wriggling, either in sympathy with the frantic contortions of Lisette's suffering bottom or with some other emotion.
'Wa-a-a-a-h!' wailed Lisette, tears streaming down her pretty face. 'Don't, Daddy, please, not in front of everyone! Aaaaah! Oooooh! Please, I'll be a good girl, I'll take my bedtime spankings without any fuss. Yowch! Aaoww! Please, Daddy, you know how you love to have me across your knee with my pyjama pants down. You can slipper my bare bum every night for a month, but no more birch, please!'
Later, as he tied a tear-drenched handkerchief to a lance, Master Erasmus enquired, 'Who are you going to send against the dragon this time, your majesty!'
'You're sure this will work?' said the King.
'Convinced!' said the magician.
'In that case,' said King Fedor, 'you go!'
When Master Erasmus had recovered from his hysterics a couple of grinning men-at-arms hoisted him onto a horse, handed him the lance and pointed him in the direction of the western provinces.
The following evening, the weary messenger staggered into the palace, muttering bitterly that if some people thought he was going to spend his life running bloody marathons to bring news it was time that someone invented the bloody telephone. He handed the King a roll of parchment.
King Fedor unrolled it and read, 'Illustrious Majesty. The dragon is no more. It burst like a soap bubble at the first touch of the lance. However, I shall not be returning to claim any reward you see fit to offer, as I find the post of Court Magician too hard on the nerves. By the time you receive this I shall be over the border and on my way to a lucrative engagement at the London Palladium. Respectfully yours, Erasmus.'
'I'm sure we'll all be glad to be rid of the dragon,' beamed the King, 'and some of us will be almost as glad to be rid of Master Erasmus. All the same, someone should be rewarded, and who better than my three lovely daughters who have suffered so nobly in the cause of sauricide.'
'Eh?' said the Lord Chamberlain.
'Dragon-killing, you fool!' snapped the Queen.
'What would you like, girls?' asked King Fedor.
'Your Majesty,' said Lisette, 'Crystal and Miranda and I have been hoping you'd ask, because we know exactly what we'd like.'
'Yes?' said the King.
'We want a free hand with the court ladies,' said Lisette. 'Every cute little countess who sniggered at Crystal having her bum strapped. Every blue-blooded beauty who found Miranda's spanking so amusing. And especially, every demure, delicately-nurtured damsel who enjoyed the sight of my birched, burning bottom! Let them find out what it's like to be on the receiving end.'
'What do you think, my dear?' The King turned to Queen Marguerite.
'An excellent idea!' said the Queen. 'As I look around this Throne Room – guard the doors, men-at-arms! – I can see at least three dozen young ladies who would benefit from having their aristocratic bottoms soundly whipped. Start whenever you like, my dears.'
She rummaged behind the throne and produced the tawse, birch-rod and hairbrush. 'I thought it might be as well to have these handy in case they were needed.'
'Thank you, Mother!' said Crystal, seizing the tawse and beckoning to a wide-eyed, auburn-haired young beauty. 'You, Lady Penelope, can be first. Take your knickers down and bend over!'
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3 comments:
This is certainly a wickedly good tale. Queen Marguerite is quite the matriarch
This was a great, fun story Hermione. Not quite the ending I thought, but a good one. Gotta love the Queen!
Hugs
Roz
Thanks for sharing this story. Fun read. Enjoyed it.
Love,
Ronnie
xx
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