A Princess's Penance free porn video

A PRINCESS'S PENANCE

                                                                                  byTom Justin

The  delicious  aroma  of  roast  pheasant  and  othersucculent dishes filled the spacious dining hall of the royal palace as theserving maids bustled about setting heaping platters  of  food onthe table before the seated nobility. King Charles II of Neufundland sat atthe head of the table with  his  new  wife,  the  former  Lady  Margaret  Dupont  ofChatsworth province.  The guests included the King's brother, Prince  Philip  of  nearbyGlouchester,  his wife,  the Lady Isabel, and their two children,Eric and Dorothy.   Also in attendance was  the Royal  Highness's  Lord  Chamberlain,  SirHorace Wilde,  his wife, the Lady Beatrice, and the Duke and Duchess ofReddington with their two teenage offspring.

At the opposite end of the table, a lovely young woman sat  alone  staring  glumly  at  her  plate.    She  was  KingCharles's daughter, the Princess Lesley.  At twenty-one years of  age,  this  pensivebeauty was  at  the  full  ripeness  of womanhood.  However,  theyoung princess seemed ill at ease and it was not long before the dinner conversationshifted to her  stepmother's  favorite  topic,  and  the  reason  for  thegirl's uneasiness.

Prince  Philip  was  the  first  to  inquire  about  hisniece's strange attitude.  Queen Margaret was eager to reply as she calmlyexplained, "My stepdaughter is doing penance for an indiscretion involvingone of the grooms."

The Lady Isabel gasped, "Oh my!  Was it serious?"

The  Queen  shook  her  head  and  replied,  "No,  thankgoodness.  They were stopped before any real harm was done."

"What became of the groom?"  Lady Ashley, the Duchess of Reddington,asked.

"Oh.  He was flogged in the courtyard, then sent to the colonies  for  a  fiveyear  indenture."   The Queen Margaret answered easily.  "Iordered it."

King  Charles  chuckled,  "Yes.    My  wife  is  quite  themartinet."

The Duke of Reddington, Sir Richard, who was the Queen's brother,  gazed  covetously  at  the  slender  figure  of  thePrincess Lesley then commented thickly,  "I hope she didn't orderthe same for the princess."

King Charles guffawed,  "By god,  she was close to it. But  I  reasoned  with  her  a  bit.    However,  I'mafraid  my daughter didn't get off  lightly by any means.   Sinceher mother died, I admit that I've neglected Lesley's upbringing so  I  must  take  some  of  the  blame  for  what  happened.Therefore, I've entrusted Margaret with straightening out my mistakes."

"And how is she doing that?"   Sir Richard asked, hiseyes glistening with lubricity.

"I know only the whip."  The Queen answered grimly.

The Lady Isabel  winced sympathetically then  inquired, "Butsurely not in public... I mean... not a flogging...."

Queen Margaret replied,  "Oh no.   The scandal would betoo great.    However,  inside the walls of  thiscastle,  My stepdaughter is learning the true meaning of discipline.  Forthe  next month,  before she  returns  to Ruttenburg  forher final year of finishing school, I am taking special steps to eradicateany unladylike behavior and to teach her obedience. In fact,  I believeI promised Lesley a lacing today before company as a lesson in humility.  Isn'tthat right dear??

In the awkward silence that stilled the dinner banter, all eyes now focusedon the Princess Lesley.   A warm blush pinkened the pale cheeks ofthe contrite beauty's lovely face as her downcast eyes contemplated the patternof her dinner plate.  Diverse emotions were evident in the watchful eyesof the guests,  ranging from ribaldry and lust to distaste and compassion.  Butall were expectant as the demure young woman raised her bowed head.

Though her face was flushed with embarrassment and her lower lip trembled,the girl's quiet voice never wavered as she answered levelly, "Yes mother."

The subtle tension between the young princess and her domineering stepmotherwas evident to those in the room.  The former Lady Margaret was of Germandescent and felt that she was resented by the people of her husband's provinceas well as his daughter because of it.  Princess Lesley had loved hermother  dearly  and  was  deeply  saddened  by  her  untimelypassing.  She had been upset by her father's marriage to the Lady Margaret,who was almost twenty years his junior, and had treated the new Queen coldlyupon her arrival  in the palace.  The  young  woman's   interrupted  tryst  with  thestableboy had been more of an act of rebellion than one of unrequited  love.    However,  her  prescribed  penance  at  thehands of her vindictive new parent was very severe and in keeping with theLady Margaret's strict German upbringing.

The  last  serving  maid  was  departing  when  the  Queencalled to her and said, "Rowena.  Ask Miss Simpson to come to thedining room, would you please?"

The  young  maid  murmured,  "Yes  Your  Highness."  thencurtseyed and left.

Queen Margaret  cleared  her  throat  and  announced,  "Wemight as well get this bit of unpleasantness over with before we dine."

The Princess Lesley glanced briefly at her stepmother then returned her eyesto the table, a frown of apprehension creasing  her  pretty  forehead.     Despite  her  troubledcountenance,  the  young  noblewoman's  beauty  could  not  besuppressed by her unfortunate predicament.   The girl's ash-blondehair was beautifully coiffured in a soft upsweep with curls  and  ringlets  at  the  sides  and  over  her  forehead.Highset  cheekbones  accented  the  pale  oval  beauty  of  thePrincess Lesley's lovely face along with her widely-spaced, soft brown eyesand delicate Grecian nose.   A full, sweet mouth whose corners sometimesshowed a hint of impertinence betrayed  the  fervid  temperament  that  had  been  the  proudbeauty's   undoing   and   had   earned   her   this   impendingchastisement.

           A respectfulknock on the dining room door was answered by the Queen Margaret with a sharp, "Comein.?

The door opened and a tall,  forbidding-looking, black-haired woman appeared.   Sheinclined her head slightly and said, "You asked for me, Your Majesty??

The queen smiled grimly, "Yes, Miss Simpson.  Would you please  go  to  my  room  and  get  the  riding  switch.    Yourservices are needed here.?

The dour matron nodded  curtly and  replied,  "Yes  YourHighness."

Before  she departed,  the  stern-featured woman's  cold,grey-blue  eyes  flickered  briefly  over  the  figure  of  theseated princess.  And although her face remained impassive, a steely glintcould be seen momentarily in her keen, closely-spaced eyes as she left.

The Lady Jsabel of Glouchester regarded the foreboding vision of the departingservant and remarked with a shiver, "Brrrrrr. .. Who's that?"

Queen Margaret smiled primly.  "That's one of the little additionsI've made to the royal household.  Miss Simpson was with me in Chatsworth.  I'vebrought her along to take charge of things here.   I was appalledby the lack of protocol and discipline I encountered upon my arrival."

The Lady  Isabel  glanced  briefly at  King  Charles  thenreplied,  "I must say she certainly appears to be up to the task, whatever that may be.?

Again the Queen smiled smugly.   "Oh yes.   You mightsay she's  whipping  things  into  place  nicely."    Then  with  asearching look at her stepdaughter she added,  "From top to bottom."

A slight blush warmed the Princess Lesley's pale cheeks at  the QueenMargaret's  last comment.   Indeed,  the  former LadyDupont of Chatsworth had a loyal and cunning ally in the dour Miss Simpson.

Orphaned at a young age then brought up on an almost daily regimen  of  therod  by her stern fosterparents,  Miss Simpson had come under theemploy of the Lady Margaret when she was in her mid thirties.  Havingserved under a series of harsh  overseers  in many a household whilegrowing up,  and with many a stroke of the cane or bite of the lash toher own bare backside for any shortcomings, the now forty-eight year-old  Miss  Simpson  had  much  rancor  in  her  heart  for  thoseunfortunate  charges  under  her  supervision  and  a  specialanimosity  towards  pretty  girls.       She  ruled  the  royalhousehold  with  an  iron  hand  and  many  a  hapless  maid  orserving girl felt the stinging bite of the cane or strap to their  bare  bottomas  a  reminder  of  Miss  Simpson's  strictPrussian  heritage.   The cane,  strap and martinet wereall used by the imperious head housekeeper to maintain the strict disciplineand obedience she required.   The Queen Margaret's riding switch,however, was reserved for the princess.

The staccato clicking of high heels on the hard stone floor announced thereturn of the Queen's housekeeper.  Miss Simpson stepped into the roomand closed the door behind her.

           The thin-lippedspinster wore her black hair,  which showed traces of grey, drawn back  fromher forehead into a tight bun at the neck,  emphasizing the angularityand severity of her features.  Her long black dress with high collar andpuffed sleeves added to her stature, and the woman's hooked nose and thin,cruel mouth distinguished her as unsparing and strict disciplinarian.

The  supple,  leather-wrapped,  whalebone  switch,  whichMiss Simpson flexed ominously in her hard bony hands, looked to be a formidable  instrumentof correction;  more suitable for use on the tough hide of an errant ponythan the soft buttocks of a woman.   Almost three feet in length,tapering from  its  shiny  embossed  handle  to  a  fiendishly-stinging,twine-wrapped, braided trainer;  it looked to be more a whip than a switch.

The  queen's  brother,  Sir  Richard,  portly  and  ruddy-faced,  commented  coarsely,  "ByGod,  I  could  train my polo ponies with that switch.?

The young princess shifted nervously in her chair at the Duke of Reddington'sacute observation.  The proud beauty had tasted  the  fiery  kiss  of  the  riding  switch  on  her  barebackside twice before in the privacy of the Queen's chambers. And in the handsof a skillful chastiser like Miss Simpson, who  being  a  woman,  knew  where  the  bottom  was  tenderest;another  such  occurrence  was  certainly  not  something  sherelished.

The Lady Isabel,  who was obviously sympathetic towards her niece's plight,  eyedthe evil length of black whalebone uneasily and remarked, "Surely thatwhip is meant to be used over clothing, I hope.

Queen Margaret scoffed  irascibly and said,  "Bah!   YouEnglish are  too soft-hearted.   A good warming of the barearse  never  did  a  young  strumpet  any  harm.    Why  in  myhomeland,  I've seen the daughter of a count stripped naked and floggedthrough the streets of the village for having an affair with a servant.  Andthis was ordered by her father!"

The scowling woman paused, then said emphatically,   "My stepdaughteris whipped on the naked buttocks."

Indeed the Queen's convictions were not uncharacteristic for eighteenth centuryEurope and England, an era not known for excessive leniency or sentimentalitytowards the fairer sex.  Public birchings and floggings of female offenderswere fairly  commonplace  in  places  like  Tyburn  and  Brideswell.While  in  Europe,  immoral  women  were  bound  and  tied  tolampposts at street corners and whipped.   In small villages, the  pilloryand  whipping post  did  not  set  idle  for  long,while the less common cart tail whippings of naked women was a very  popular  event.    Even  in  the  finest  of  finishingschools,  like  the  one  attended  by the PrincessLesley in Ruttenberg, the most docile and hardworking of students could expectat least one or two burning and shameful chastisements during the school year.

Queen Margaret now turned to her stern housekeeper and asked, "Are youready Miss Simpson?"

The stern-featured servant nodded respectfully.

The Queen then put her fingers to the side of her chin as she contemplated.   "Let'ssee now." she said.   "I started Lesley off with six.   Thenlast time it was eight.   So the normal progression calls for tenstrokes today."

The  smiling  matriarch  looked  at  her  stepdaughter  andsaid calmly,  "My dear,  I believe Miss Simpson is waiting onyou.?

The Princess Lesley's eyes met those of her adversary's momentarily then sheglanced nervously around the table at the seated guests as the prickly heatof a blush warmed the young woman's pale cheeks.

Sensing her niece's discomfort with the mixed company at the  table,  The  Lady  Isabel  tried  to  intercede  for  thecondemned beauty.   She asked mildly, "I'm sure Your Highnessmeans  for  the gentlemen and children to pass to the other roomdon't you?"

The Queen Margaret snorted derisively,  "Nonsense!  This littlefool needs put on no airs of false modesty here.  Not after the way MissSimpson and I found her in the barn with that stablehand.   We areall royalty here.   I find nothing inappropriate.  Besides theembarrassment will do her good."

The Queen fixed her stepdaughter with a cold stare and said sharply, "We'rewaiting, Lesley.?

It was  then  that the young princess  faced her mother with  flaming  face  and  retorted,   "I  don't  think   it'sappropriate at all, mother!?

The  girl's  grimly-smiling  stepmother  nodded  her  headslowly and announced,  "Very well.   We can have the menand children leave.   However there will be a little supplement for  the  sake  of  modesty.    Shall  we  say,  an  extra  sixstrokes.?

The blood drained from the sentenced penitent's sullen countenance as shelowered her head and declined the offer.

Queen Margaret smiled triumphantly.   "I didn't think so. Yourlittle outburst has now increased the tariff to twelve. If you insist on stallingwe can always go higher.?

The  Queen  glanced  for  a  moment  at  her  husband  thenturned to the seated princess and demanded, "Well!"

With  a sigh  of  resignation,  the  Princess  Lesleyrose from her chair and stepped away from the table.   Despite thegrim   foreboding of her impend   punishment, the aristocraticbeauty faced her shaming and painful ordeal with an air of quiet stoicism,staring unblinkingly above the heads of the seated guests, meeting the eyesof no one.

Queen  Margaret  regarded  her  stepdaughter  keenly  thenlooked at her black-garbed housekeeper and inclined her head slightly.  Atthe Queen's gesture,  Miss Simpson strode over to the condemned youngwoman and grasped her arm firmly in her strong bony hand.  With a gripthe Princess Lesley could not dispute, the switch-wielding matron led her lovelyvictim to the center of the room and positioned her so her backside was towardsthe gathered nobility.

           The girl'saustere parent cleared her throat and spoke firmly,  "You know what'snext, Lesley.   Lift up your dress and bare your bottom."

The  proud  beauty's  shoulders  stiffened momentarilyat her stepmother's terse command, then blushing furiously, the Princess Lesleyof Neufundland reached down, gathered up her billowing skirt, and lifted thewhite silk garment above her waist.

The taut silence which followed the collective sigh of the seated dinner guestsbespoke of the fact that beneath her lifted skirt and single petticoat, theyoung woman's buttocks were completely naked.   From the waist down,  thePrincess Lesley wore only a white lace garter belt to which her sheer silkstockings were tautly tethered.  Her bare, upstandingly-rounded,  oval-shapedbottomgobes were sensuously framed by the straps of her suspender belt.  Wideand firm, jutting out invitingly from her slim waist,  those glorioushillocks of alabaster flesh bore the shaming stigma of fading brownish-yellowlines as evidence of prior chastisements.

The  fullness  of  the  lovely  Princess's  truly  womanlyposterior  belied  her  slender  stature and  the  broadeningcrease  which  separated  the  beautifully-proportioned  bottomrounds  gradually widened  at the lower summits to hide  itsshadowy mystery there.  At the base of the Princess Lesley's condemned  behind,  her  supple,  gracefully-sculptured  thighsmerged  in  harmonious  juncture  before tapering downto  her trimly muscled calves.

The Queen Margaret's brother, Sir Richard, was first to break  the  awkwardsilence.   Without  turning his  lecherous gaze from thegirl's bared buttocks, he remarked thickly, "By God, that garterbelt reallysets them off.  Doesn't it?"

The  half-naked  penitent's  smugly-smiling  stepmothernodded and answered easily,  "Yes, I think so.   Lesleyisn't allowed to wear any undergarments while in the palace.   It'spart of her punishment.   Last week when it was chilly,  thelittle minx tried  to  get away with slipping on a pair of drawersbut Miss Simpson noticed the garment missing from her bureau.  That costLesley a second dose of eight strokes. She still has the marks from that.   We'vesince removed all of her underthings from her room.  Now if she needsa pair of underpants or d chemise or camisole, she must ask myself or MissSimpson."

Sir Richard cocked his head questioningly at his sister and  said,  "Do  you  mean  to  saythat  under  her  dress,  the Princess is errrr....shallwe say... .uhhh..."

"Naked?"   The Queen answered  levelly.    "Yes,  quite."

During this embarrassing discussion of her predicament, the  Princess  Lesley  had  not  stirred.    Like  a  porcelainstatue,  the young noblewoman stood tall and serene  in her provocative  dishabille,  her  furled  dress  lifted  aboveher hips exposing her chaste nudity fore and aft.  She could feel thehumiliating coolness of the air on her naked backside but her  high  cheekboned  face  remained  expressionless  as  sheawaited her fate.

           The Queenof Neufundland turned to her switch-wielding servant  and  said,  "I  think  you  may  begin,  Miss  Simpson.  Twelvestrokes, please."

The  black-clad  housekeeper  nodded  curtly then  steppedinto position behind the half-nude princess, standing at her left.

Sensing  that  her  whipping  was  eminent,  The  PrincessLesley took a deep breath and steeled herself for the first stroke  as  almost  imperceptible  ripplings  shook  the  firmcheeks of her condemned behind.

Miss  Simpson  extended  the  supple  riding  switch  andmeasured  her  distance,  appraising  the  ample  milky-whitemounds of her victim's  luscious naked bottom.   She watchedthe  young  woman's  buttocks  tighten  and  shudder  in  nervousmuscular contractions as she slowly drew back her arm.

The  lovely young martyr  could  tell  by the  collectivehush of the dinner guests that the lash had risen and was en route to deliverits first burning kiss.   She heard a faint whirring sound, thenfire laced across her vulnerably-exposed buttocks.

The  eel-like  black  switch  wrapped  around  the  uppersummits of the Princess Lesley's naked posterior, the trainer flicking  with  venom  at  the  fleshy  mound  of  her  rightbottomglobe.

The girl's tensing body jerked convulsively at the shock of  the  first  blow  as  she  involuntarily  thrust  her  hipsforward, twisting her stung nether cheeks away from the pain. Across  the  alabaster  smoothness  of  the  Princess  Lesley'scringing bottomcheeks a vivid pink stripe appeared, darker on the  right  where  the  cord  trainer  had  fallen.    Under  theimpetus  of  the stroke,  the courageous beauty's  lovelyface lifted and her eyes opened wide, but only a hiss of sucked-in breath attestedto her suffering.

Tightening her grip on her upraised skirt and petticoat, the Princess Lesleyset her teeth against her underlip,  the delicate nostrils of her daintynose dilating with the afflux of quickened breathing as she waited fretfullyfor the next stroke.

For   the   second   cut   of   her   unfortunate   victim'schastisement,   Miss   Simpson   stepped   to   the   right   andskillfully directed  a  sweeping  backhand  slash  of  the  whipinto the ripest curves of the princess's helplessly-proffered behind.  There  was  a  sinister  whistle  as  the  switch  sangthrough the  air  and  curled  with an angry and crispimpact against the very middle of both wobbling hemispheres.

The girl's body stiffened and her red-striped buttocks bounded furiously underthe cut as a second parallel stripe sprang up on the resilient flesh of herpunished bare bottom. Delivered  from  the  right  side,  the  twine-wrapped  trainerplucked greedily at the spasming left cheek of the Princess Lesley's  hapless  posterior,  evenly  distributing  its    measureof pain.

Observing the even spacing of the first two stripes on the young princess'snaked behind, Sir Richard remarked, "By God, she's accurate.  Andfrom both sides, too."

           Queen Margaretsmiled proudly at her brother's favorable assessment  of  her  housekeeper's  flagellatoryskill.    "Oh yes." she replied calmly.  "MissSimpson can line Lesley's impudent backside like a piece of sheet music ifshe wants to.

The  Duke  of  Reddington  nodded  sagely then turned  towatch the next biting slash of the switch attack the Princess Lesley's exquisitely-roundedyoung buttocks.

Having stepped back to the left, Miss Simpson swept the third stroke acrossher victim's cringing posterior with a strong  forehand  stroke,  striping  the  Princess  Lesley's  flinchingnether cheeks with another evenly-spaced parallel welt.

Again the courageous young sufferer's lithe body arched in protest  to  the  scaldingbite  of the  lash as her  head lifted  and  a  stifled   "Uhhh!"  escaped  her  tightlypursed lips.  The girl's whipped buttocks shook jelly-likeunder the force of the blow  and the three scarlet stripes emblazonedon  her  tender  flesh  contrasted  sharply  with  the  milkysmoothness of her velvety-sheened bottom.

The  penitent  princess  blinked  back  the  tears  thatflooded  her  eyes  as  she valiantly strove to maintainher composure  under  the  searing  pain  which  assaulted  herthrobbing red-streaked behind.   While her prior thrashings had takenplace in the privacy of the Queen's chambers, the shame of having to bare herroyal backside to the besmirching eyes of the men and children at the dinnertable only added to the young noblewoman's anguish and mortification.

For   the  fourth  stroke  of  the  Princess  Lesley'sprescribed  punishment,  the  stern  Miss  Simpson  once  againstepped to the right of her half-naked prey and regaled the full  pale  cheeks  of  her  trembling  bottom  with  a  sharpbackhanded cut of the supple whalebone switch.  The huddling, squirmingmounds  of  the Princess Lesley's  welted buttocks shook furiouslyunder the burning smart of the whip as she ground her teeth savagely to stifleher cry.   Another lurid weal sprang up on the girl's beleagueredbackside just below the plumpest curves of both bottom summits.

The  Duke  of  Reddington's  fifteen  year-old  daughter,  Elizabeth,  and  his  thirteen  year-old  son,  James,  acutelyobserved their older cousin's painful chastisement.

           Sir Richardoften administered bare-bottomed thrashings to Elizabeth in her bedroom, whichher brother would sometimes watch through the keyhole.  The girl's lecherousfather would corporally  punish  his  adolescent  daughter  on  almost  anypretense, positioning her over the footrail of her bed with her virginal behindarching out lewdly for the burning kisses of strap or cane.

           Both childrenwatched as Miss Simpson sent the fifth hissing  stroke  into  the  base  of  the  Princess  Lesley'sinflamed  lower  hemispheres.    As  the  wicked  leather  wandseared her scalded flesh, the fiendishly-stinging tail of the lash  seemed  to  cling  and  burrow  into  the  young  woman'ssensitive right underbuttock for a second before it snapped back, leaving itsswelling burgundy weal.

Under this pernicious attack on her tenderest flesh, the Princess Lesley'shead  lifted and a choking cry of  "Ohh-­aahh!!"  was  torn  from  her  trembling  lips.     The  lovelysufferer's welt-ridged bottom ovals  jiggled salaciously as the muscles  of  her  behind  and  thighsspasmed  in helpless defense against the burning agony of the lash.   Tearshad begun to trickle down the brave young martyr's flushed cheeks and her breastsheaved as she drew several deep breaths in preparation for the next stroke.

The dour Miss Simpson smiled with satisfaction at her victim's plaintive cry;no doubt in her mind that the little baggage had felt the last cut.   Thestriations left by the whipcord  switch  had  created  a  lascivious  pattern  on  thecreamy  bare  flesh  of  the  girl's  voluptuously-provocativeposterior,  so  roguishly displayed  between garter  beltarid stockings beneath the uplifted hem of her skirt.

The cruel matron had purposely directed the fifth stroke of  her  contrite  charge's  whipping  lower  than  the  fourprevious evenly-spaced stripes.  Being a woman, she knew that the skinin the fleshy overhang of the buttocks rubs more and is more tender in thecrease.  And wanting to demonstrate her proficiency with the lash,  MissSimpson had been confident that an adroitly placed cut of the whalebone-coredswitch would break her stoic victim's proud silence; which it did.

The stern housekeeper extended the rapier-like length of well-oiled whipcordout against the remaining pale band of untouched  flesh  on  the  lower  curves  of  the  snifflingprincess's martyred behind.  The grim woman's eyes brightened when sheheard the girl's barely audible groan as she felt the  measuring  tap  of  the  rod.    Gritting  her  teeth,  theQueen's  head  housekeeper  drew back  her  arm and  sent  theflexible withe whistling across the quivering rotundities of the Princess Lesley'swell-wealed bottom with ferocious zeal.

The snickering wisp of the switch was too quick to see. But a moment afterit snapped back, there appeared the white line that slowly merged into red,evenly bisecting the space between  the  two  previous  cuts.    The  princess's  scorchedbottom rounds jerked uncontrollably in a clenching bound as her head  liftedand a choking cry escaped her desperately compressed lips.

           Six  raised   horizontal   stripes  marred   the  creamysmoothness  of the Princess Lesley's beautiful bare behind, starting atthe top of her hips and descending to the base of her  sumptuously-rounded  buttocks.    The  marks  stood  outvividly on the pale milky skin of the young woman's luscious posterior andher throbbing flesh drew and twitched where the lash had bitten.   ThePrincess's lovely face was flushed and streaked with tears, and the anguishedknowledge that  she  still  had  half  her  punishment  remaining  weighedheavily on her proud spirit.

The  girl's  executioner   leisurely  contemplated  herhandiwork,  purposely prolonging  her  victim's  ordeal.   ThePrincess Lesley's vivid and sensitive beauty,  coupled with the haughtinessof her attitude, whetted Miss Simpson's  sadistic spirit and tightenedher resolve to humiliate and torment the unfortunate young noblewoman all themore.  The skillful chastiser knew that seventh cut of the tearful  penitent'sallotted twelve strokes would intersect the previous stripes so accuratelyetched on the aristocratic  beauty's cruelly-streaked buttocks, increasingher agony and further weakening her fading fortitude.

     To that end, the Queen Margaret's unrelentinghead housekeeper, slowly raised her sinewy right arm, her cruel eyes devouringthe flinching trembling bare buttocks of her helpless victim. With a whistlingslash, Miss Simpson swept the murderously-flexible switch diagonally from rightto left, imprinting a lurid crimson stripe from the edge of the Princess Lesley'sright hip across her writhing bottom ovals and biting keenly against the baseof the left buttock.  Under the impetus of the stinging pain, the half-nakedyoung woman's body jerked convulsively and she involuntarily thrust her nakedhips forward in lewd response to the naked fury of the lash. A strangled cryof "Aaaaarrgh!!!"  was torn from the lovely martyr's throatand the livid welts danced obscenely on the whipped nether cheeks of her swollenthrobbing posterior.

     With hardly a pause, Miss Simpson nimbly steppedto the left and backhanded a second diagonal cut, inscribing a bright X overher sobbing victim's huddling lower hemispheres.  The riding switch whistledfuriously as it bit across the two luridly-wealed nether globes, evilly kissingthe spasming gluteal mounds which bounded under its imperious torment.

     Her will weakened by this merciless onslaughtof pain, the Princess Lesley's contorted face lifted and another squealingcry was wrenched from her trembling lips.  The girl's hands fisted atthe searing pain that licked at her martyred behind and her quivering hillockscontracted voluptuously before the eyes of her audience.  The anguishedbeauty was acutely aware of the involuntary fatty shivers that ran up alongthe insides of her thighs into her welt-ridged bottom ovals above.  Anda wave of despondent shame and degradation swept over the penitent young noblewomanas she desperately prayed for strength to bear the remainder of her punishment.

     For the ninth stroke of the Princess Lesley'sprescribed penance, the dour Miss Simpson kept her hapless victim agonizingfor what seemed an interminable wait, utilizing every nuance of suspense andhumiliation conceivable. The sadistic matron, being of common birth, especiallyrelished the duty of plying the lash to the bared buttocks of a member of theroyal family, no doubt feeling in her own mind that for each welt she raisedon the milky-white skin of the    Princess Lesley's velvety-smoothposterior, she was repaying  some of her former aristocratic masters forthe beatings she had endured in her youth.

     With that purpose in mind, the severe disciplinariansent the ninth stroke slicing into the plumpest curves of her unfortunate sufferer'squaking lower hillocks.  The whipcord switch curled and clung cruellyto the Princess Lesley's writhing buttocks, the hardened cord trainer chewingunmercifully into the excoriated flesh of her cringing right bottomglobe.  Theyoung princess's knees buckled then straighten and a sobbing wail of "Ahhhowww!!!escaped her gaping mouth.

     The Lady Isabel flinched sympathetically asshe saw the livid weal encircle her niece's lovely lower hemispheres whichshuddered and shook in a series of rippling spasms of pain. The interlacingstreaks of crimson blazed like a brand on the corrugated flesh of the girl'scondemned backside as she desperately tried to relax her tensing bottomcheeksto better absorb the next blow.  The Princess knew from previous punishmentsthat clenching of the buttocks only made the lash bite harder, but the enervatingtorment that assaulted her tortured backside weakened the will of her bodyto do her bidding as she desperately strove to slacken the cheeks of her condemnedbehind.

     Miss Simpson impassively extended the switchand laid it solidly across the base of her hapless victim's lividly streakedbare bottom. The Princess Lesley caught her breath and gave a sobbing whimperas she bowed her head and awaited the resumption of her whipping. The puffyweals etched on the shivering flesh of the lovely sufferer's swollen posteriorwere livid and beginning to darken where the toughened trainer had impartedits venomous kiss. The cruel housekeeper especially enjoyed demonstrating herfustigatory skill on the Princess's firm out- thrust buttocks for the girl'screamy skin marked vividly to show the full artistry of her handiwork.

     Swwisshhh..craacckkk!!! The tenth stroke wasgiven after a pause of almost a full minute, during most of which time, MissSimpson kept the flexible rod pressed against the area she had selected forher cut.  It was a backhanded blow from left to right, dexterously deliveredwith the full strength of wrist to send to tip of the lash burrowing into thePrincess's shivery left hindcheek, launching her into another involuntary paroxysmof pain.

     A heart-rending scream was torn from the PrincessLesley as the muscles of her bottom spasmed and the streaked and quiveringgluteal mounds formed a rigid mass of tender flesh furiously resisting thepitiless cruelty of the lash.  The condemned beauty's stricken face lifted,her eyes huge and blinded by tears as her half-nude body gyrated lewdly beforeher mixed audience.

     Through the swirling mist of suffering thatengulfed her pain-racked body, the Princess Lesley could only think that shehad just two more strokes to endure from that terrible  riding whip.  Theenforced stance of her pose with arms to the sides and skirts held aloft, sentmuscular ripplings up her sleek thighs, causing acute agony to the courageousyoung martyr as the shuddering cheeks of her welted bottom twitched and contractedspasmodically. Even the slightest trembling of her swollen posterior globessent frightful waves of suffering through her violently striated flesh. Andalthough it felt to her like a white-hot iron was being drawn across her tenderbehind with each cut, the Princess Lesley was almost anxious for the finaltwo strokes to fall to finally end her humiliating ordeal.

     The sobbing penitent felt the measuring tapof her tormentor's switch and could hear, in the taut silence of the room,the rustling of Miss Simpson's heavily starched dress as she slowly drew backher arm.  A frown of consternation creased the Princess's pretty foreheadas she set her teeth against her underlip and waited with shuddering anguishfor the switch to resume its hellish work.

     It was then that the Queen Margaret's vindictivecruelty came into play as she called out to her servant, "Hold on a minute,Miss Simpson."

     The dour spinster's angular face did not changeexpression as she lowered her arm and looked questioningly at her mistress.If she felt any disappointment at the prospect of remitting the last two strokesof her helpless victim's count, she did not show it.

     Upon hearing her stepmother's command, a faintray of hope flickered through the Princess Lesley's mind as she desperatelyprayed for leniency in her harsh sentence.  However any prospects formercy were immediately dashed and replaced with horrified anguish as the tearfulgirl's rancorous adversary turned to her guests and calmly announced, "DearLesley makes such comical faces when she's being thrashed. I feel I would beremiss in my duties as a host if I deprived you of that pleasure.  Lesley,turn and face the table for your last two strokes. "

     Through the buzzing in her ears, the PrincessLesley heard her stepmother's terrible decree as the color drained from hershocked countenance.  A sickening knot formed in her stomach and the youngwoman's kneehollows felt weak and trembling.  She could not move.  Shewould not move.  To stand obediently before a bemused gathering of men,women, and children while a common servant viciously whipped her bare bottomas she willing hoisted her skirts above her waist was one thing.  Butto turn and face her audience, and freely expose the most private parts ofher body was too much. The anguished beauty turned her tear-streaked face backover her shoulder to her vengeful stepmother, imploring mercy.

     Queen Margaret regarded her stepdaughter coldlythen turned to her expectant housekeeper and said, "Perhaps Lesley needssome urging Miss Simpson.  Give her a couple across the legs."      ThePrincess Lesley saw the movement of the servant's arm out of the corner ofher eye and she swerved her hips furiously and screamed, "Nooo---auuuiieee!!!" asthe snickering lash tore into the soft flesh of her capering thighs. A secondstroke immediately followed, attacking the beautiful columns of the young noblewoman'supper thighs just  below the cheeks of her piteously-welted bottom.

     Under this pernicious assault on her most sensitiveflesh, the Princess Lesley dropped her raised skirts and rushed her tremblinghands to her scalded nates, sobbing brokenly as she shamelessly kneaded thecorrugated flesh of her buttocks and thighs in clenching rolls.

     The openly crying girl's stern stepmother allowedher a few moments of respite before she proclaimed icily, "If you've finishedwith this indecent display Lesley, I suggest we get on with the remainder ofyour punishment. You've already earned a little supplement to your count foryour behavior thus far. If you don't want to feel Miss Simpson's switchacross your shoulders, I suggest you turn around and face the table.Now!!!"

     Confronted with this dire alternative from herunrelenting tormentor, the Princess Lesley had no choice but to comply. Thesniffling beauty slowly straightened her bowed figure and remove her handsfrom her throbbing, red- striped posterior. She smoothed her rumpled skirtthen brushed the tears from her ravaged eyes and squared her slim shoulders.Then with stately grace, as if turning to greet a dancing partner at a ball,the condemned, twenty-one year-old daughter of the King of Neufundland turnedto face the remainder of her degrading chastisement.

     For a moment the sentenced young noblewoman'seyes met those of her grim executioner and she could see the steely glitterin Miss Simpson's cold grey eyes.  And while the Princess Lesley's tear-wetface remained expressionless, outraged shame and indignation blazed in herswollen, red-rimmed eyes as she gave a scathing stare at the one responsiblefor her torment. It was almost a look of aloof defiance as if to say, go aheaddo your worst.

     Like a porcelain statue, the courageous penitentstared straight ahead, chin high, eyes distant.  Princess Lesley saw MissSimpson step into position behind her. Then as if to cheat her vindictive stepmotherout of the pleasure of giving the shaming order, the condemned beauty mechanicallyreached down and raised her skirt above her waist.

     The prickly heat of a blush warmed the palecheeks of the lovely young martyr's face as she presented her chaste nudityto the profaning eyes her attentive audience.  Beneath the dainty nicheof the girl's shallow navel and smooth delightfully-curved belly, the softdowny curls of her Venus mound shielded the Princess's virgin slit.  Eroticallyframed by the straps of her garter belt at the apex of her full beautifully-roundedthighs, the Princess Lesley's silken love-thatch was of slightly darker shadethan her ash-blonde tresses.

     The young woman's hands did not waver as shekept her skirt held high, her face a graven image of beauty. For despite herdegrading pose, flushed, tear-stained face, and welted bare bottom, the PrincessLesley retained a certain detached elegance, something bred into nobility,that neither her stepmother nor Miss Simpson could take away, no matter howsevere or humiliating the punishments.

     The Queen of Neufundland regarded her stepdaughtercoldly then turned to her housekeeper. "You may give Lesley the last twostrokes of her original count now, Miss Simpson."

     The black-clad matron nodded curtly then pursedher thin lips as she impassively appraised her victim's trembling bare bottom.The criss-crossed swellings from the whip blazed salaciously across the lusciousmounds of Callyphigian beauty so helplessly delivered to the woman's heartlesssadism.  Miss Simpson extended the rapier-like switch and mockingly touchedthe tumified flesh of the Princess Lesley's condemned behind several times,delighting in the nervous twitchings of the girl's lividly-streaked netherhemispheres.  The malicious woman purposely prolonged her helpless prey'sagonizing suspense, knowing the mortification she was experiencing facing herparent's dinner guests naked from the waist down.

     The Princess Lesley could see nothing and hearnothing as she powerlessly awaited the frightful agony of the lash. She wasalmost relieved when she perceived the look of apprehension on her Aunt Isabel'sworried face which told her the punishing rod had risen.

     The swift slashing whisper of the switch throughthe air and the swift slashing pain across her naked bottom arrived togetheras Miss Simpson drove the snickering lash wickedly into the young noblewoman'sresilient bare bottom ovals, striping the convulsing hillocks with anotherblazing welt. The mark of the lash was a white crease across the girl's cringingflesh, and then as the switch snapped back, the crease reddened and began toswell.

     As the whistling lash sliced into the firm moundsof her shuddering bare behind, the lovely sufferer spasmodically thrust herhalf-nude body forward in a wrenching lunge.  A plaintive wail was tornfrom the anguished beauty; and under the involuntary lewd pelvic thrust ofher pain-racked body, the fleecy curls of her downy muff parted, exposing thepouting lips of her vulva to the mingled delight and consternation of her mixedaudience.

     The Princess Lesley's face flamed as she sawthe Queen's boorish brother, Sir Richard, lick his thick lips and stare boldlyat her exposed femininity, his eyes shining with lubricity.  Fresh tearsof shame welled in the girl's wide brown eyes and she saw her kindly aunt gaspin shocked horror at this shameful exposure before the men and children inthe room.

     While the Duke of Reddington and the Lady Isabelof Glouchester's diverse emotions were plainly evident; the King's Lord Chamberlain,Sir Horace Wilde, showed no sentiment whatsoever.  Being a loyal servantof many years to the royal household, the taciturn nobleman witnessed the

naked flogging of the young Princess with an air of quiet detachment.

     All eyes followed Miss Simpson as she measureher distance for the final cut of the Princess Lesley's twelve stroke count.Nervous quiverings shook the luridly-wealed lower hillocks of the girl's punishedbackside as frightful waves of agony swirled along her nerves, centering onher flayed rump. With pernicious skill, the unrelenting spinster sent the whipcordswitch whisking into the tender base of her victim's defenseless lower hemispheres,cutting cruelly at the tenderest flesh and overlapping the raised welts ofprior cuts. The hissing lash seemed to lift the flesh physically as it cutand the Princess Lesley threw her head back and screamed raucously as the braidedtrainer chewed hungrily into the raw smarting flesh of her beleaguered bottom .                                                     

    Once again , as she jerked her writhingposterior away from the flaming fury of the searching leather wand, the half-nudepenitent's hips surged forward and her thighs parted, momentarily displayingthe silken purse of her sex to the profaning eyes of her audience. After theclinging lash had peeled away from her undulating bare buttocks, the unfortunatebeauty continued to sob brokenly, her breasts heaving with gasping breaths.With head bowed and skirt .still raised, the Princess Lesley was the perfectepitome of  a soundly-whipped schoolgirl despite her twenty-one yearsof age.                                              

     Queen Margaret gazed smugly at her whimperingstepdaughter, well pleased with the effects of the thrashing thus far. Thenwith measured firmness in her voice she calmly announced, "Your punishmentwould be over now, Lesley, if not for your childish impertinence earlier. You'vegot a little supplement coming for that, and then a final test of obedienceto follow. If I get any resistance, you'll wish you had never been born witha bottom, I assure you!"                 

     The stern matriarch then leaned forward andfixed her sniffling stepdaughter with an icy stare. She coldly ordered, "Nowyou are going to turn around, bend over, and touch your toes for two extrastrokes for breaking pose during punishment."

     Vanquished in body and spirit by the onslaughtof pain to her martyred behind, the young princess of Neufundland  provincedocily obeyed her vindictive parent. Keeping her skirt and petticoat well aboveher waist, the tearful sufferer turned and dutifully inclined her half-nakedbody; freely presenting her red-streaked posterior globes to her I waitingexecutioner.

     Bent as she was, despite her efforts to  keepher legs tightly together, the cleft striped mounds of the Princess Lesley'sbeaten backside parted, lewdly  displaying the pink-lipped seam of herslit, lasciviously framed by downy ringlets of dark blonde pubic hair.      Prostratingherself in this obscene and shameful position, the girl's blush deepened asshe felt the degrading coolness of the air on her moist love-slit. Out of maidenmodesty, the Princess Lesley instinctively tightened the welted cheeks of herjutting bottom in a vain effort to diminish her nakedness before the gatherednobility. From her inverted pose, she heard her stepmother's terse command.   

     "Miss Simpson, please finish this impudentbaggage's punishment so we can get to our dinner." Queen Margaret ordered.

     The Stern housekeeper inclined her head respectfullythen stepped into position behind the penitent princess. The woman waited patientlyfor her victim to relax the contraction of her tensing buttocks, then impassiveswept two whistling lashes into the slackly waiting mounds. Cutting just underthe hemispherical curve of the girl's defenseless bare bottom, the strong drivingstrokes ferociously attacked the tender underbuttocks of the hapless sufferer'swobbling hillocks, visibly lifting the jellied mounds of agonized flesh. Piercingscreams answered each lancinating cut and the limpened cheeks of the PrincessLesley's beaten buttocks jiggled furiously under the searing bite of the lash.

     To increase her helpless victim's suffering,Miss Simpson craftily dealt the final lash of the princess's punishment afteronly a fifteen second interval; driving the evil whalebone switch into thescreaming girl's writhing bottom ovals just when the pain had reached its peakfrom the prior cut. Skillfully delivered with maximum force on the same bandof swollen dreadfully-smarting flesh just previously struck, the fiendishly-stingingtip of the lash slipped between the shuddering globes of the Princess Lesley'stortured behind to come to burning rest in the shadowy crease which separatedthose welt-ridged mounds of striated flesh .

     As the braided tail of the lash plucked venomouslyat her most sensitive flesh just inches from the quaking lips of her cunt,the Princess Lesley lifted her head and uttered a savage shriek. The anguishedbeauty's fingertips momentarily left her toes during the involuntary straighteningof her bent torso. But in a desperate attempt to hold position and not incuradded abuse to her horribly martyred backside, the young princess franticallyclasped her slim ankles as searing agony coursed through her pain-racked body.The knuckles of the lovely sufferer's hands whitened as she tightly grippedher trim ankles while the luridly-wealed cheeks of her throbbing red-streakedbottom twitched and heaved spasmodically.

     At the juncture of the sobbing penitent's sveltethighs, beneath the base of her red-striped posterior, the pouting fig of hersex peeped back salaciously amidst the involuntary lewd yawning and contractingof her tortured gluteal masses. Unchecked tears dotted the stone tiles of thedining room floor as the Princess Lesley wept openly, her bent body rackedby wrenching sobs. The vanquished sufferer was past caring that her enforcedpose and convulsive quiverings blatantly exposed the most private parts ofher naked body to the lusting male eyes in her audience. She just knew shecould not bear another stroke of the whip to her poor piteously-wealed backside.

     Behind the bowed figure of the whimpering princess,Miss Simpson inspected her handiwork, a grim smile momentarily curling thethin lips of her cruel mouth. A tapestry of swelling purple and crimson stripesblazed brightly on the corrugated skin of the girl's trembling bare bottom,as the throbbing twin hillocks of once-creamy flesh continued to twitch andshiver where the lash had bitten. The stern disciplinarian looked questioningat her employer, her implacably countenance expressionless and hard.

     Queen Margaret intently observed her stepdaughter'sscored posterior. Then after a somewhat nervous glance at King Charles, sheturned to her housekeeper and said, "That should suffice for now, MissSimpson. Please leave the  switch in my room."   

     An almost imperceptible tremor could be detectedin the Queen's voice during her last command. But after the departure of herblack-garbed servant, the woman called to the princess in a clear voice. "Youmay get up now, Lesley, and lower your dress."

      Moaning plaintively, the still-snifflingpenitent I straightened her bowed figure and let her skirt and petticoat fallin place. At the touch of her clothing on her still burning flesh, the contritebeauty gave a dull gasp as fresh tears welled in her red-rimmed eyes.

     The young woman's stern parent gave a look ofcomplicity to her smirking brother, Sir Richard, then calmly ordered, "Pleasejoin us at the table, dear."

     With a rueful nod of her head, Princess Lesleyhobbled painfully over to her chair. Each mincing step brought renewed anguishto the lovely martyr's beaten bottom as the rubbing of her thighs and the wobblingof her swollen nether globes revived the pain of the whipping. Even the simplegrazing of her clothing on her scorched posterior was agony, and the girl'sbehind felt like it was twice its weight, the richly-wealed cheeks fat andheavy.

     The Princess Lesley paused for a moment as shehovered  her seared rump over the seat of her chair, a look of despondentdismay clouding her pain-ravaged face. Then with a  sigh of resignation,the unfortunate sufferer gently eased her abused bottom down. At the contactof her welt-ridged flesh on the chair seat, the girl bit her lips with a grimaceas more tears trickled down her cheeks.

     Queen Margaret smiled grimly as she leaned forwardand  folded her fingers beneath her chin.  Fixing her stepdaughterwith a look very similar to one that a spider would give a  fly, the unrelentingmatriarch announced, "Now then, Lesley.  To see if your little lessonhas had any effect on your behavior and obedience, and seeing as your obstinacyhas made it necessary for our guests to wait while the maids re-warmedthe dishes; you are going to give us a little visual diversion. We have seenyour lovely behind and front already. So all that remains is your breasts.Bare your bosom, Lesley. "

     The color drained from the Princess Lesley'stroubled countenance as she stared in disbelief at her smirking tormentor.

     Queen Margaret returned her stepdaughter's balefulstare and said, "I can always send for Miss Simpson, my dear."

     Faced with this dire threat from her vindictiveadversary, the Princess Lesley reluctantly lifted her hands to the bodice ofher dress. Outraged shame and hatred blazed in the young woman's tear-swolleneyes as she fumbled with the buttons on her dress. True to her stepmother'searlier claim, the princess had nothing on beneath her clothing.

     Firm and jutting, the highly set snowy-whitemounds of the blushing penitent's beautiful bosom appeared. The widely spacedglobes of resilient flesh thrust out boldly from the girl's chest without theaid of artificial support. At the crest of each pear-shaped breast, the crinklypink bud of a nipple protruded, centered in the dark coral of its aureole.Erratic quivering shook those luscious love gourds as thick tears of shamerolled down the sobbing young noblewoman's flushed cheeks.

     The girl's domineering parent strode over tothe wall and pulled a bellrope to summon a maid. Almost immediately, a white-apronedservant appeared. The young maid was in her teens and the stupefied look shegave the half-nude princess made poor Lesley blush to the roots of her hair.

     Queen Margaret looked at the shocked servantand calmly said, "Bridget. Our dinner was unexpectedly delayed. Wouldyou please see to it that the dishes are heated up again."

     The young girl mumbled, "Yes, your Highness."

     Then after a quick curtsey and another furtiveglance at the Princess Lesley, she scampered out.  

     A quick succession of kitchen servants followed,each one either bringing a hot plate of food or removing a cold one.  Eitherby coincidence or design, it seemed like a different maid appeared each timeand the princess's blush spread to her neck and shoulders as the bustling younggirls all paused long enough in their duties to gaze at the snifflingnoblewoman's naked humiliation.

     After the last servant had reluctantly departed,the meal proceeded. The Princess Lesley ate little of the food on her plate,picking half-heartedly at her dinner while she longed for her ordeal to end.It was indeed a painful penance she would not soon forget.

                                                                                 Epilogue

           Night hadfallen in Neufundland province as darkness descended on the castle of the royalfamily.  The Princess Lesley slept fitfully, her flushed cheek pressedagainst a tear-wet pillow.  The anguished beauty's nightgown was ruckedup to her waist and a damp towel covered the tumified flesh of her beaten barebuttocks.  The young penitent moaned softly in her sleep; no doubt relivingthe pain and humiliation of her infamous chastisement.  

           However,as the Princess Lesley tossed and turned in her bed, another erotic tableauof domestic discipline was unfolding in a different part of  Neufundlandcastle; with different participants of royal lineage.

           The northwing of Neufundland castle housed the royal bed chambers of King Charles andhis wife, Queen Margaret.  The heavy oak door of the hallway leading downthat empty corridor was bolted from the inside and an eerie stillness hungheavy in the cool night air.  And while all was quiet in the rest of thevast stone building,  faint sounds could be heard coming from  behindthe  locked door of the royal bed chamber.

           A snickeringlisp threaded through the air, and after a pause another one.  Once morea muffled snap followed by a moan and a caught cry.

           In the flickeringcandlelight which illuminated the King and Queen's bedroom, two figures werevisible, one standing and one prone.  

           The QueenMargaret lay naked in all her insolent beauty prostrated over the footrailof the bed.  At forty years of age, the King's new wife was in the fullripeness of her sexuality.   

           Standingbehind the lush nude body of his squirming spouse,  King Charles contemplatedthe fleshy mounds of her out-thrust buttocks.  Those full-fleshed posteriorglobes were  emblazoned with six livid welts from the same riding switchthat had done such yeoman's service on the King's own his own daughter Lesley'sbare backside earlier that evening.

           The King'sruddy face grew ruddier as he observed his wife's pouting vulva, framed ina nest of rich pubic curls at the base of her wealed bottomcheeks between herslightly parted thighs.  The fleshy petals of the inner lips of QueenMargaret's loveslit showed pinkly between the thick, almost rubbery outer foldsand dewy droplets glistened on the inverted fissure of the opened groove.

           King Charlesreached down and stroked the empurpled, duck-like head of his heavy phalluswhich probed through the parted folds of his robe.  Then, with his erectmanhood swaying with his movements, the King of Neufundland province steppedforward, raised his arm, and dealt another slicing cut into the cringing moundsof the Queen's squirming bare behind.  The eel-like switch buried itselfin the yielding flesh of the two glorious naked hemispheres, flattening theflinching globes before snapping back elastically; leaving a scorching twin-trackedweal in its wake.  Warming to his task, King Charles then pivoted to hisright and delivered a sweeping backhanded stroke into the jellied mounds ofhis wife's martyred bare behind.

           Face downon the bed, Queen Margaret heard the familiar sinister swishing sound as theleather switch descended and slashed across her naked, shuddering hindquarters.  Sheheard her own involuntary, choking, gasping cry and tasted the shaming tearsthat trickled down her flushed cheeks.  While the suffering noblewomancursed the flagging strength in her body as her will weakened under the onslaughtof pain to her cringing, welt-ridged buttocks; she also damned her own bravadowhen she had agreed to her husband's decree upon relinquishing the upbringingand discipline of his headstrong daughter.

           Under theKing's motto, ?Don't demand anything of our young, we wouldn't take ourselves.?,each of the Princess Lesley's prescribed chastisements would be repeated onthe Queen's royal, bare backside the same evening.  That would explainthe uneasiness in Queen Margaret's voice earlier in the day when she had allottedextra strokes of the lash to her defiant step-daughter; knowing she herselfwould receive them as well.  It also explained why the Queen took to herroom for several days following the Princess Lesley's past whippings, citingwomanly problems or some other malady, lest her unsteady gait or mincing stepbetrayed the state of her own punished posterior.  

           With hisstony erection hardening even more, King Charles continued to ply the lashto his naked spouse's condemned behind.  And while he did not possessthe cunning and dexterity of a skillful and experienced chastiser like MissSimpson, the robust monarch's strength and vigor served him well in his fustigatoryefforts.

           For as manyas eleven cuts, Queen Margaret stoically held back her cries.  But shecould hear her strangled, teeth-clenching gasps become louder and more unrestrained,more high-pitched, as stroke by stroke, what self-control she had left slippedaway.  At the twelfth cut, her fortitude gave way and the suffering noblewomanbegan to cry out musically, with full-throated yelps of pain, at each succeedinglash of the rapier-like switch.

           The Queen'sscreams and lamentations rang off the walls of the royal bed chamber and echoeddown the deserted stone corridor of the hallway as the searching leather wandlicked and snapped at the corrugated flesh of her trembling, furiously-wealedbottomglobes.

           And whilethe Princess Lesley was unaware of what was taking place in the opposite wingof Neufundland castle; she would have undoubtedly slept more soundly had sheknown, that at that moment, another sore-bottomed member of the royal familywas also learning the true meaning of discipline.