Geomancer: The Master Thief
By Yu May and Ojota
[Note: This fan fiction is based on Geomancer by Fulgur, and features characters and concepts from that world. These events are meant to take place at some point before the events of chapter 13 in the original series. It thus contains spoilers for chapters 1-13 of Geomancer.]
Soot winced as she tried to sit down around the campfire. All eyes were on her. At least Merta looked sympathetic.
But Little May was barely containing her giggles. “Feeling a little…toasty, Soot?”
Grace pinched May just gently enough not to hurt her and just roughly enough to shut May up. Grace clicked her tongue, looking as stoic as possible in her maid uniform. “May, it’s not polite to call attention to other’s…difficulties.”
May stiffened as she felt the pinch, then looked sheepish. “Oh, yeah…I’m sorry you got spanked again. Hope your butt feels better soon.”
Zack emerged from the woods, carrying a satchel of edible mushrooms in one hand, and Soot’s black ebony wood hairbrush in his other hand. “May, you’d better not be teasing Soot.”
May quickly sat on her hands, shaking her head. “I was not! I was, um, sympathizing! Uh…wasn’t I, Soot?”
Soot groaned as she attempted to rest her weight down, gingerly, before sitting flat on her scorching buttocks. “Sure, in your own weird ‘May way’ I guess you were. There’s no point pretending it didn’t happen. I’m sure you all heard the tell-tale sounds of the hairbrush doing battle with my heinie?”
Merta sighed, and shifted in her seat to face Soot. “Well, since it’s out in the open, yes we did…but I couldn’t help but notice, I didn’t hear you crying, Soot. How did you manage that?”
Soot sniffled, and finally risked shifting her weight to try rubbing her bottom. Instantly, she discovered it still stung far too much to handle a massage. “Oh, I cried my eyes out. Zack wields a mean hairbrush.”
Matter-of-factly, Zack put Soot’s hairbrush away, and took his seat at the campfire. “Thank you.”
Merta drummed her fingers for a few moments. “...But, didn’t you scream at all?”
Soot hummed as she grabbed her blanket, and fluffed it into a make-shift pillow to sit on. As she settled back down, she winced, and turned to Zack. “I don’t recall. Zack, did you get me to holler this time?”
Zack scratched his nose. “Gee, now that you mention it, I guess not. You’re usually pretty quiet during a spanking, Soot…at least, when you’re not arguing.”
May pouted. “Humph! You always spank me until I’m squealing like a baby. Hardly seems fair to me.”
Zack gave May a stern look. “May, I spank until you’ve been punished enough, depending on what you’ve done. It’s not about who cries first…What is it Dad always said? Something like, the spanking suits the ass?”
At long last, Grace snickered, before disguising it as a sneeze. Then Grace straightened her posture, and cleared her throat. “Do you mean, ‘The punishment fits the crime?’”
May shook her head. “Oh, no. It was definitely the ass one. I remember Daddy saying that a few times when I earned a trip over his knee.”
Zack nodded. “Right. I’m not stopping a spanking early just because one of you starts crying right off the bat. And I won’t drag a spanking out forever either, just because one of you tries to hang tough. What matters is that I know you’re really sorry…Isn’t that right, Soot?”
Soot hung her head. “Yes, Zack. I’m sorry, everyone. I won’t filch snacks ever again.”
May, Merta, and Grace all nodded, and offered forgiveness.
But Merta couldn’t take her eyes off of Soot’s wooden hairbrush. Merta swallowed. “But…how do you do it, Soot? It must be torture, to resist the urge to scream for that long?”
Soot shrugged. “I was more embarrassed by the thought of shedding tears. I’m not really tempted to yelp or holler during a spanking. Not much point. Guess some of that old training never really goes away.”
May rested her chin on her hands, her eyes sparkling. “Oh? What sort of old training? I’d like to try it out for myself!”
Soot flashed a dangerous smile at May. “Sure. Just let me spank you morning, noon, and night for a few months. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it.”
Without moving, May glanced backward at her backside. “Hmm, let me think about it…Okay, I thought about it. I’ll pass this time, but thanks for the generous offer!”
Merta felt a shiver travel up her spine. “Soot, is that…really how you learned to be a thief? I’m so sorry.”
Soot’s smile vanished as she realized what she’d let slip. “I’m just joking. You know, you can’t make noise on the job. It’s mental training, that’s all.”
May looked especially mischievous. “Oh, come on! Don’t you want to tell us more about your thrilling career as a master thief, before Zack helped you turn over a new leaf…by bringing your booty to grief?”
Soot scowled at May. “Nope. I don’t feel like sharing.”
Suddenly, Zack stood up, and started to put out the fire, until only cinders remained. “And you don’t have to. Soot’s story is hers to tell, or not to tell. Lights out, everyone. May, if you don’t want to go over my knee before bed, then quit pestering Soot.”
May practically dove into her sleeping bag. “Okay, okay! Yes, sir!”
Silently, they all snuggled in their bundles. As Soot rolled onto her side, she felt the all-too-familiar warmth of an all-too-recent spanking, and gently stroked her tingling bottom.
…
Soot remembered her first big job, shortly after setting off on her own. She wasn’t named “Soot” of course. A wise thief never uses their real name if they can help it. Back then, she had used “Willow” as her nom de guerre.
Nor had “Willow” earned the black uniform that marked her as a professional thief.
Her father had taught her the basics of the gentle art of thievery, but only a member of The Honorable Thieves’ Guild of Cant could recommend her to join as an apprentice thief. The Thieves’s Guild wasn’t truly a guild, certainly not legally. But the name was only half ironic.
The City of Cant was large enough to support dozens of thieves. The “guild” had begun as an unwritten agreement amongst the thieves of Cant to not intrude on another established thief’s territory. If any outsider wanted to live as a thief in Cant, they would be politely asked to join the guild for “protection.” The town guard tolerated the guild. And so long as enough bribes were paid, the government told themselves that since thieves were inevitable, better to have it be friends and locals doing the thieving rather than a bunch of foreigners.
After a few days of practicing her pick pocketing in Cant, Willow had received a cordial invitation to join the guild, with a knife pressed against her throat.
The instructions from the master of the local thieves’ guild had been simple. Break into the Mayoral mansion, steal something valuable enough to pay your dues to the guild, and she’d be welcomed as an official “Can-do” member of the Thieves of Cant.
Willow had spent a day lurking near the mayor’s mansion, while pretending to beg for alms. Unfortunately, all she overheard was that the mayor had been the victim of enough breaking and entering attempts to pay for new locks and hire a full-time guard.
She tried approaching the mayor outside his gate to beg for alms, hoping to pick his pocket quick, only for a guard to snatch her by the wrist. “No beggars! Away with you, urchin!”
Then the guard landed a sharp slap across Willow’s behind to send her off. As she heard the mayor laughing his head off, before he disappeared into his carriage, Willow grit her teeth.
Then, just as she was starting to despair, Willow noticed a plume of smoke, coming from the Mayor’s new-fangled brick chimney.
…
All she had to do was steal a broom. As a scrawny child, Willow made for a natural chimney sweep. She spent the next three days looking for work. Most home-owners chased her off with various curses and threats of violence, but she managed to find two customers, and after cleaning her first two chimneys for two hay-pennies, she’d built up a thick coat of black soot and grime. Willow was patient. When you spotted a good mark, you took your time. Fast is sloppy.
She’d spent another three days chimney-sweeping, hoping to catch a lucky break. A dim-witted guard she could bluff her way past? A gap in security when they changed shifts? It didn’t matter. As long as she trusted in her own fortune, Willow knew she would win out in the end.
But after a whole week of honest work as a chimney sweep, making significantly less than she could as a pickpocket, Willow was starting to lose faith in her strategy, whether it was divine providence of random chance.
She sat, sulking, outside the cathedral, accepting a few pennies in her empty hat from sympathetic tourists. Glancing at her soot-covered bottom, Willow remembered how, back at home, her father used to spank her for not being good enough at thieving, while her elder sister had spanked her for being too good at thieving.
Willow sneezed, then wiped her nose. Grumbling, she muttered to herself. “Don’t dwell on the past, stupid.”
A strange woman’s voice answered her. “Well, thank you for the advice, but I’m not stupid.”
With a squeak, Willow hopped up like a bunny, and found a well-dressed woman looming over her. The woman was a brunette, with bright blue eyes and pale skin. There was something distinctly foreign about her facial features. She had the statuesque beauty of a woman from the Eastern lands, almost handsome. The woman put her hands on her hips. “Well, don’t just sit there. You’re a chimney sweep, aren’t you? How much is it to clean a chimney these days?”
Willow rolled her eyes. “A silver florin.”
It was a laughably absurd price. Willow half-expected the woman to box her ears for showing such monstrous cheek.
Instead, the woman only nodded, slowly. “That’s all? My, what a country. You can hire anyone to do anything for a song.”
Then the woman snatched Willow by the wrist, and started marching. “Well, come along, chimney boy, I’ve got work for you, and I need it done in a hurry, or the master will have my hide.”
Suddenly, the woman paused and shielded her bottom with her free hand. “Oh dear, you don’t suppose the master of the house will spank me for my forgetfulness, do you? That’s another strange thing I’ve noticed about your country. All the men are positively spank-happy. I’m sure that, when you grow up to be a man, you’ll probably find a nice young woman, and spank her soundly whenever she needs it. You know, I don’t disagree with spanking, in principle. Only I just wished someone warned me I risked getting spanked at the drop of a hat, before I arrived in this country. This might surprise you, but where I come from, we only use spanking as a punishment for very young children, not for grown women…and especially not on our bare bottoms! But I suppose, for a young man like yourself, that’s part of the whole appeal of spanking a young woman. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Willow shook her head, but before she could explain that she wasn’t a boy at all, and had no intention of either marrying nor spanking anyone, man or woman, she suddenly noticed where she was being led to: the mayor’s mansion. As Willow stood staring, it was only then that she recognized the young woman’s formal uniform: a black maid’s dress, with a white apron.
The young maid clucked her tongue, and went on chattering as if Willow had answered her question. “Of course you agree! What young man with blood in his veins wouldn’t jump at the chance at spanking a young woman’s poor, defenseless little buttocks? I can hardly blame you! Oh, but where are my manners? I am Naomi, assistant housekeeper for the Mayoral estate. And what is your name?”
Willow almost said her real name out loud, but caught herself. “I Ros…um, I’m Willow!”
“Willow? That’s a funny name for a boy. In my country, that’s only a name for…” Naomi froze, then peered closely at Willow’s face. “Oh, so you are a girl! Well, I suppose you must know what I mean, about women being spanked and all. Though also I suppose you’re not old enough to know what it’s like being spanked like a child, when you’re not a child at all! I must admit it feels a tad unfair, knowing that, as a woman, I’m never entirely safe from the prospect of a bare-bottomed spanking…but I refuse to complain! It is your people’s custom to spank silly young women, after all, and I respect it as a custom. And I’ve come to appreciate how, for an absent-minded young woman like myself, a spanking can be a most welcome reminder of how to…remember things.”
***
As Naomi led her to the Mayor’s chimney, Willow kept an eye out for a prize to steal. The Mayor’s house was opulently furnished, to the point of being tacky. An odd assortment of collectibles decorated every wall and table: books, semi-precious stones, historical arms, pinned butterflies.
Willow was sure any one of them would pay her dues, but Naomi refused to let go of her hand until they arrived at the fireplace “Here it is. Black smoke billows out of it every time we try to light it up. Can you fix it?”
Frowning, Willow examined the chimney. After a week of chimney sweep work, she missed thievery more than ever. “Probably just a buildup of soot and creosote. I’ll have it unclogged in an hour or two.”
Willow took her sweet time brushing, hoping that Naomi would get bored of watching her and go find something more interesting to do. But Naomi only cocked her head. “Aren’t you going to climb up?”
Willow scowled, before she was struck by a flash of inspiration. “Of course, I just gotta…change clothing.”
Naomi blinked. “But…your clothes are already as dirty as they can possibly get.”
Willow rolled her eyes. “Don’t you know how chimney sweeps work? Your clothing can catch in tight spaces so we have to…buff it.”
Naomi’s eyes shot open, and she covered her mouth. “You mean…you have to strip down naked?”
As she felt Naoimi’s eyes searching her, Willow hugged herself, feeling strangely naked already. “Yes, yes! So, may I have some privacy please?”
Blushing madly, Naomi bowed, and backed toward the door. “Of course. Please excuse me.”
Willow sighed. Once Naomi was gone, Willow knew she could easily hide a few small jewels in her pockets, and she would be home free. But the moment Willow reached to take off her hat, Naomi called from the doorway. “Just leave your clothing outside the door. I’ll make sure they’re scrubbed clean, and given back to you, fresh as new.”
Willow stiffened as she realized the flaw in her plan. After taking a deep breath, Willow managed a small, “Thank you.”
When she was left alone, Willow silently shook her fists, as if she was strangling an invisible maid. Then she slowly undressed. Even though she was all alone, she still felt strangely vulnerable. Something about the largeness of the room bothered her, as if it had been made far too big on purpose. Ordinary little people like Willow didn’t belong here.
Quickly, Willow opened the door, and deposited her clothing. With a groan, Willow turned back to face the fireplace, and went to work. Climbing with her elbows and knees, Willow scaled the inside of the chimney, naked except for a rag that she wrapped across her mouth in a desperate attempt to filter some of the thick soot in the air.
The chimney was so claustrophobically tight, Willow was actually relieved she had undressed after all. She found the clog and pulled it back with her broom. With a flump, it dropped to the bottom of the fireplace and exploded into a cloud of black smoke.
Even with her rag covering, Willow gagged, and slid down the chimney, skinning her elbows in her haste to get to fresh air. After pouring water over the rising cloud of soot, Willow looked down to examine herself. Now she was both completely naked, and completely covered in black, sticky grime.
With her job finished, Willow shuffled her feet, and finally sat down in front of the fireplace, on the cold stone that formed the outer hearth. She examined the treasures surrounding her. She could easily steal anything she wanted right now…but where would she hide it? If only she had been allowed to keep her clothing, she would have been all set.
Feeling stupid, Willow imagined what her father would think, or her sister. Dad would probably spank her for fouling up a perfectly good burglary job. The spanking wouldn’t have been too harsh, but it would be enough to remind her to think two steps ahead next time. On the other hand, Willow’s older sister would probably chide her for even thinking of stealing from good, honest folks, and would have spanked her again. That spanking would have been plenty harsh. What Willow’s sister lacked in raw strength, she made up for with persistence.
Willow choked, then wiped her nose. Those days were over. She was free now. She was naked, and alone, and penniless, but her life was hers to do with what she willed. Then, an idea struck Willow, and she slapped her forehead. “Duh! I’ll just hide a small gem stone under my tongue. No one will–”
With a click, the door handle turned, and Naomi appeared, covering her eyes with one hand, and holding up a bundle of clothes in the other. “Here you are! There wasn’t enough of your old clothes left to save, so I threw them out. I hope you don’t mind. But we have a spare set of clothes from one of the stable boys. I think it should fit…oops!”
As Naomi tried to set down the clothes without peeking, she stumbled, and dropped her hand by mistake. Willow squeaked and covered herself, twisting away from Naomi. Naomi covered her eyes again and waved a hand. “Sorry! Didn’t see much. Just your behind mostly.”
At the mention of her bottom, Willow danced with embarrassment, covering herself with one hand while waving at Naomi with her other, “It’s fine! Just get out of here and let me dress!”
Naomi nodded and turned to leave. Willow stooped to examine the clean clothes, and found a pair of boy’s briefs. It would have to do. Willow stooped, and scooped them up.
But as the maid reached the door, she paused. “Goodness, how silly of me. You’re all covered in soot. No point letting you change into fresh clothes while you’re in that state. I’ll have to give you a bath.”
Just as she was about to step into the boy’s undergarments, Willow froze. “Huh? No! There’s no need for that! Getting dirty is part of the job!”
Still covering her eyes with one hand, Naomi marched straight to Willow, and easily scooped her up with one arm across Willow’s slender waist. Willow mewled like a kitten as she was lifted into the air, and kicked her feet behind her. “Lemme’ go! I don’t need a bath!”
Naomi playfully patted Willow’s up-turned bottom, twice across each butt cheek. “Don’t be absurd. You’re completely filthy. Tee-hee! Do you know the old fairy tale about the poor girl whose wicked stepmother made her sleep by the fireplace? And her cruel step-sisters made fun of her for having a soot-covered backside? We call her Little Sooty-bottom in my country. You remind me of her.”
As Willow felt the playful love taps, she had a visceral flashback to the last spanking she had received from her sister, only a year or two ago. Willow had forgotten her exact birthday, but Willow knew she had experienced spankings almost daily from her older sister, from the day their father had left her in her older sister’s care, until Willow finally ran away from home at age 11. Willow flailed wildly, and almost managed to wriggle free from Naomi. “No! You can’t spank me! You’re not my sister!”
Naomi gasped as she tightened her grip on her captive. “Goodness, child! Don’t be absurd. Of course, I can spank you, but you needn’t worry. I wasn’t planning to spank you. You did such a good job after all.”
As she felt herself being carried like a helpless babe, Willow slumped down, howling. “Nooo! You can’t make me take a bath!”
Naomi uncovered her eyes, and slapped Willow’s bottom, not quite as playfully as before. “Now, little Sooty-bottom, I don’t want to spank you, but this sooty little bottom is either getting a good scrubbing, or a good spanking. Just imagine the cloud of dust I could raise by spanking you! Now, what will it be?”
Willow dug her fingers into her greasy hair, roaring. “No! No spanking…please!”
Naomi smiled, and then finally remembered to cover her eyes again. “There, see? I knew you were a good girl at heart. I’d hate to have to spank this poor, soot-covered little bottom. Oops! I forgot you’re shy about it. Don’t worry, once I get you in the tub, I won’t peep.”
As she exhaled, Willow hugged her shoulders, and felt tears dampening her eyes. She was so relieved to be spared reliving the trauma of being spanked, she’d almost forgotten her embarrassing state of undress. As she contemplated how absurd her soot-covered behind must look right now, Willow curled and uncurled her toes, and stopped resisting. She was too scared of the threat of a spanking to argue. “...Please, just get it over with.”
Naomi put a kettle of water on to boil, and deposited Willow in a washbasin of cool water. Running hot water was an extravagance that no servant could afford, but just as Willow started shivering, the kettle had started to boil. Naomi carefully poured hot water into the opposite side of the washbasin, rolled up her sleeves, and started lathering her hands with soap. Willow felt the hot water stretching out in rivulets, like smooth fingers of comforting warmth, before it quickly cooled, and the bath became lukewarm.
Willow shut her eyes tight, and allowed Naomi to shampoo her hair. When the maid produced a bath brush and started scrubbing away every inch of grime, Willow whined softly, but didn’t fight or argue. Willow vividly remembered how badly a bathbrush spanking can sting across a dripping wet behind. By the time Naomi was finished, Willow’s skin was shining a soft shade of pink all over.
Naomi straightened up, stretching her lower back with a look of satisfaction, then covered her eyes again. “There! Now your little sooty-bottom is as clean as a baby’s…bottom. Let’s get you dressed, and I’ll send you on your…”
Naomi felt along the floor, dropped her hand to examine the room, and did a double take. “Gracious! I’m so forgetful. We’ll have to fetch your new clothes from the living room.”
Naomi fetched a towel and set it across a stool in front of Willow, who eyed it eagerly. Finally, Naom stood, covered her eyes again, and turned to face away from Willow. “Here, that should preserve your modesty. I’ll escort you back, just in case. The guards should all be outside the house, but you never know when the Lord Mayor might arrive home. He’s not fond of finding any workers unaccompanied in the manor.”
With a soft murmur of assent, Willow quickly wrapped the towel across her chest and waist. Then Naomi surprised Willow from behind with a second towel, roughly tousling her sopping wet hair until it was dry. Willow yipped like a puppy, and snatched at the towel. “Let me! I know how to wrap my head in a towel, thank you!”
Naomi chuckled. “Forgive me! Force of habit. Back in my country, I had to bathe my little sisters all the time.”
Willow frowned as she fixed the towel in place, her cheeks blushing an even deeper shade of red, adding to the soft pink hue left by the recent scrubbing. “Well, I’m not your baby sister. I can take care of myself.”
Naomi nodded, her smile strangely charming. “Of course, you can! You’ve done fine work today, and you deserve a reward. Come along, Miss Willow.”
Willow forced herself to control her breathing. As she sized up the maid, it occurred to Willow that the maid was barely older than she herself was. Naomi was probably in her late teens. As Willow remembered her years of terror at the thought of being spanked, she felt a sudden, strange urge to tackle the maid. Strip her. Spank her.
At that moment, it was as if something clicked into place in Willow’s mind. Of course, Naomi wasn’t much older than her sister. Willow remembered crying herself to sleep, cradling her aching backside, before dreaming sweet dreams of revenge, where it was her turn to spank her elder sister.
So powerfully did Willow feel the mad urge to spank Naomi, she started trembling. But she quickly suppressed the temptation. Like Dad had taught her, a shrewd thief has to keep her cool.
As if she had eyes on the back of her head, Naomi turned and spotted Willow’s shivering, her face sympathetic. “Poor thing, I know it gets cold in this drafty old mansion. Let’s get you warmed up before I send you on your–”
Just as Naomi tried to pull Willow close, Willow spotted an enormous, fat-bellied, mustachioed man strolling down the halls in front of them, his hefty torso wobbling precariously on his spindly legs.
Willow froze. Naomi noticed Willow’s tension, turned to face the strange man, and quickly curtsied. “Lord Mayor! Good afternoon, sir!”
The Mayor harrumphed as he galumphed past the maid, before he paused. “Naomi, who is this boy?”
Naomi blinked twice, before she realized he was referring to Willow. “This is…a chimney sweep.”
“And why is a chimney boy strolling around my mansion wrapped in towels?”
Naomi smiled the same strange smile as before. “This…child cleaned out the clogged fireplace, as you requested. But they got so filthy, I determined a bath was necessary.”
“I wasn’t aware that giving warm baths to street urchins was part of the household budget. Business is booming, I take it?”
Naomi paused, then bowed her head. “No, sir. I acted under the assumption that you would not want the child to track soot in the household. If I presumed incorrectly, please forgive my foolishness. I will escort the child off the premises at once.”
The Mayor grumbled, then peered closely at Willow. “What’s your name, lad?”
Willow almost answered with her real name again. “Ro…Rod. Rod Willow.”
The mayor’s mustache curled as he stared deep into Willow’s eyes. Finally, he straightened up, and clicked his tongue with mock amusement. “Hem…funny name. Well, Naomi, I suppose it couldn’t be helped. Pay the boy the going rate and send him off.”
Naomi curtseyed. “Yes, Lord Mayor.”
Willow almost curtseyed, before she remembered that she was wearing only a towel, and that she was supposed to be a chimney boy. The Mayor tottered away, muttering something about the lack of orphanages and workhouses as he went.
As Willow exhaled with relief, she felt Naomi squeeze her hand. “Let’s get you dressed, and take care of your wages.”
After marching to the living room, Naomi politely closed her eyes and allowed Willow to get redressed. Willow glanced at the treasures lining the room, wondering if she could pocket one while the maid’s back was turned.
But something about being buck naked reminded Willow of the threat of being spanked, and the moment she pulled on her clothing, the maid turned to face her. Again, Willow was struck by the thought that Naomi seemed to have eyes on the back of her head, and was relieved she hadn’t tried to swipe anything.
Naomi pulled out a small purse and put a silver coin in Willow’s hand. “One silver florin, as promised. I hope that’s enough as a going rate for a chimney sweep?”
Willow was tempted to haggle for more, but she felt a strange mix of sympathy for Naomi’s naivete, and bizarre fear that Naomi would catch a lie instantly. Nodding her head, Willow pocketed the coin. “That’ll do. Thanks, lady.”
Naomi nodded, and started to build a fire. “I suppose I’d best test to make sure the fireplace is cleaned out properly, before I allow you to go.” Willow basked in the warm glow of the fire, and couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in a job well done.
Just as Willow started to wonder if Naomi was risking trouble by letting “the chimney boy” linger, Naomi nodded with satisfaction, put out the fire, and promptly escorted Willow back out of the manor. “Thank you for your service, Rod Willow…”
Then, Naomi’s sweet smile vanished, and was replaced by her strange smile. “You know, you have quite a talent for this line of work. With a little patience, I’m sure you’ll make a fortune. Good bye!”
The door closed behind Willow. By now, evening was approaching, and the sky was growing dark. Willow stared at her silver florin. She’d gotten out safely, but she hadn’t stolen anything to show for it. That was unacceptable. Willow considered her options. This was her golden opportunity. Even if she snuck back later, she would now be recognized…But if something went missing today, the chimney sweep had the perfect alibi. She had been monitored the whole time, and escorted off the property. If something was discovered missing, the blame would likely fall on the household staff.
Willow wondered if Naomi would be fired, or even arrested, once the theft was noticed. But she quickly dismissed the thought. The old, fat Mayor must have had plenty of servants to act as possible suspects. All Willow had to do…was find a way back in.
Glancing up at the roof, Willow spotted a thin wisp of dying smoke from the red brick chimney she had just cleaned.
Somehow, scaling the sheer wall was the most relaxing part of Willow’s entire day so far. It was just like her Dad had taught her. Houses have plenty of footholds, if you know where to look, and keep your hands steady. Once she reached the edge of the roof, Willow forced herself to ignore the two-story drop, and kicked up onto the shingles.
She found the chimney chute, and tried to gauge the width. Father Christmas would never have fit through it (without using magic). And even for Willow it would be a tight squeeze. Willow felt her fresh clothes, and realized with a pang of fresh guilt that they had been intended as an additional gift.
Quickly, Willow stripped down to her underpants, and tied the rest of the clothes into a tight ball. She didn’t want to risk getting stuck if she could help it. Biting onto the bundle of clothing, Willow started to climb down the chimney, using her knees and elbows, and her palms and soles to support her weight. It was slow-going. Once, she felt her foot slip lose. Her lower back absorbed most of the brunt as she slid down, scraping against the rough brick in the narrow chimney. With a gasp, Willow dug her fingernails into the mortar to catch herself, just long enough to secure her foothold, and lift herself back up.
A horrible mental image haunted her imagination, of breaking her spine and dying in this cloistered, dark chimney, before her rotting body was discovered weeks later, probably by another chimney sweep. But Willow consciously banished the thought. She was not a chimney sweep. She was a thief.
As she steadied her breath, Willow glanced down at the dark pit beneath her, and smiled. She could see the light at the end of the tunnel!
…Wait a second.
She wasn’t supposed to see any light at the bottom of this chimney.
Then Willow smelled smoke, heard a metal clang, and felt a rising heat rushing up to toast her bottom. Someone had lit a fire!?
In desperation, Willow started to climb back up the chimney. Then, her foot slipped again, and she tumbled down, scraping her palms against either side of the chimney. She barely managed to break her fall enough to avoid breaking a leg. Instead, she came to a jarring halt against the brick “floor” of the smoke shelf, just above the fire. With a clanging thump, her shins banged against the metal damper. As Willow felt the urge to scream, she forced herself to steady her breath, like a master thief should.
Then Willow noticed that she was inhaling smoke, and her will to live overcame her will to be a thief. Hacking past the smoke, Willow kicked up and over the damper, and slid down into the ash dump. She expected to fall straight into an open fire, but instead came crashing down onto dying embers, landing flat on her behind.
Tears filled the master thief’s eyes as she choked, and gulped with relief for cool, fresh air…before the hot cinders pressing against her legs and bottom demanded her attention. With a shriek, Willow leapt out of the fireplace like a frog, and slapped down against the wooden floor face-first, her tail poking in the air behind her with a thin, billowing trail of smoke. With a groan of pain, Willow blinked past her tears, and saw a dainty, black pair of women’s shoes.
Willow glanced up, and saw Naomi, holding a poker. Tossing it aside, Naomi pulled Willow into a hug, “Willow? Are you hurt? You poor thing! What on earth were you doing in the…”
Naomi reached around to slap out the remains of the flaming cinders across Willow’s scorched seat, before the maid paused, looking perplexed. “Willow, why were you crawling in the chimney?”
Willow coughed up a final puff of smoke, and felt the lie pop out her mouth naturally without having to think. “Missed a spot. Wanted to make sure it was cleared out all the way before I left.”
Naomi shook her head. “But….you were with me when I checked the fireplace. It was working just fine…so that means…”
Naomi stood to her full height, towering above Willow, and folded her hands. “...Willow, get dressed at once, young lady.”
Feeling small, Willow picked herself up off the floor, and found her bundle of clothes in the inner hearth, right where she’d dropped them. Gratefully, Willow redressed herself, then glanced at the only door in the room. Then, the furious maid marched directly into Willow’s line of sight, blocking her only possible path of escape.
Slowly, Naomi reached behind her back, and latched the door with a click. Then, tightening her lips to a thin line, Naomi strode forward and rested her hands on her hips. “Willow…are you a thief?”
Willow was sure she felt a hole digging in the pit of her stomach. “What? How dare you accuse me! I haven’t stolen anything! I’m doing honest work here.”
“No. That story makes no sense. I already paid you. Stop lying, and tell me the truth, or I promise it will go much worse for you. Are you a thief, or aren’t you?”
Willow clenched her hands into tight fists, and stood to her full, unimpressive height. “I am not a thief.”
Resolutely, Naomi kept her face stern. Then, she started tapping her foot, rhythmically. Once. Then twice. Then in a quick, steady little pattern.
Tap…tap, tap…tap, tap-tap, tap tap!
Willow swallowed as she listened to the slow, steady taps, feeling her heart beating. Why wasn’t Naomi saying anything? “If I’m a thief, prove it.”
Naomi shook her head. “I’m no judge. Suppose I’d better call the town guard. I’m sure they can sort this out.”
As fresh tears springing to her eyes, Willow felt her lip quivering. This was it. The end of her career as a master thief. She’d probably be locked up in a decrepit orphanage, if she was lucky enough to avoid a public flogging, before serving a prison sentence. All she could think of was to try a blatant bluff. “Fine. If you want to waste their time, then go ahead!”
Naomi kept tapping her foot, repeating the same rhythm. Finally, she paused. “No…On second thought, I don’t think you’re a thief at all. You’re far too clumsy to be a thief…but you are a very stupid chimney sweep, and you’ve made a terrible mess…So, there’s only one way to deal with a foolish, naughty little child like you, little miss Sooty-bottom.”
Naomi grabbed a short wooden stool resting next to the fireplace, and set it down firmly in the center of the floor. The maid seated herself primly, and patted her lap. “You’re going to get a good, hard spanking, and that will be the end of it. If you’re not a thief, then bare your bottom, and come lie across my knee.”
Willow froze, remembering all the times she’d heard nearly those exact same words spoken by her sister. Automatically, Willow reached for the waistband of her trousers, her hands shaking. Unable to look Naomi in the eye, Willow turned away, hanging her head, and slowly lowered her pants and undergarments to just below her buttocks, then dropped them all the way down to her ankles.
As Willow felt the chill air in the dark room, she covered her front, and knew that her scrawny, bare backside was now the center of attention. Sure enough, as Willow twisted to look over her shoulder, she saw Naomi waving with one hand to beckon her forward, patting her lap more emphatically. “No more dawdling, Soot…There’s no way out.”
Of course, Willow wasn’t really a master thief, like out of the fairy tales. Willow knew that she was just a stupid little girl, playing make believe. And Willow knew that when it was time for a spanking, there was no escape. She remembered something her sister had always told her: “Bad girls get spankings. Good girls don’t run away from a spanking.”
Then, Willow spotted the iron poker lying in front of her, and she remembered something else. Her father had always told her: “Anyone can get their ass into trouble. The trick is to get your ass out of trouble.”
Stumbling forward, Willow yanked her pants back up with one hand, snatched up the poker with her other hand, and spun to face Naomi, holding it up like a sword. “No! Keep your hands off me!”
Naomi eyed the poker, seemingly unimpressed, and folded her hands on her lap. “Throwing a temper tantrum isn’t going to help you. If that’s supposed to be a weapon, you’re not even holding it right. You’re not some sort of romantic, swashbuckling scoundrel out of the fairy tales. You are a child. A silly, absurd child, covered in dirt. But deep down, I think you really are a good little girl, who wants to be brave, and take the spanking you know you deserve!”
Willow waved the poker, and with a pang of dread she realized how clumsy it felt in her hand. “No! I don’t want to be brave–I mean–I don’t want the spanking I deserve! I am not a good little girl! I am a thief!”
As Naomi blinked, her stoic expression vanished. “Wait…you really are a thief, Sooty?”
Willow jabbed the poker in the air, not wanting to hurt Naomi but also not sure what else to do. “That’s right! I’m a thief! And if you make a sound, I’ll kill you!
With a snap, Naomi thrust her hands high above her head. “Oh, gracious! Please don’t hurt me!”
As she fought her disbelief that this plan might actually work, Willow held the poker steady, feeling a thrill travel from the tips of her toes all the way to her fingers. “I won’t hurt you if…uh…if you tell me where your master keeps all his gold!”
Still holding her surrender pose, Naomi’s eyes darted to an ornately-carved wooden desk against the wall. “There! Under the writing desk! There’s an iron safe hidden in a secret compartment! It’s behind a wooden panel.”
Willow felt her head swimming. Remembering to keep the poker leveled at Naomi’s chest, she shuffled toward the desk, and noticed a tiny seam in the wood beneath the desk. Willow glared at Naomi, trying to make her voice sound low and dangerous. “Stay where you are! If you so much as twitch, I’ll run you through!”
Naomi nodded furiously, pressing her lips tightly together.
Satisfied, Willow jammed the tip of the poker into the wooden panel, using it like a crowbar to pry open the hidden compartment. Sure enough, there was a solid box wrought of black iron, sealed with a padlock. “Where’s the–um–the key, Naomi? …I mean, open it now, wench!”
As tears sprang to Naomi’s eyes, she shook her head, just as furiously as she’d just been nodding it only a moment before. “I don’t have it! The Lord Mayor keeps it on his person at all times! Please, have mercy on me!”
Willow snarled. “Mercy? Were you going to have mercy on me, when you thought I was only a helpless child?”
Still holding her hands high above her head, Naomi paused to consider her answer. “Well, I was planning to spank you soundly, then send you on your way, and let that serve as a warning. But only because I supposed you were a common sort of thief. You know, the type whose heart wasn’t really in it. But, now I know better. You’re clearly a blackguard!”
Willow considered her options. Every second she delayed, she risked getting caught. She couldn’t bring herself to hurt Naomi, but at a minimum, she’d have to gag her and tie her up somewhere. Willow decided her best bet was to bluff her way out. “That’s right. Don’t let my looks fool you. I’ve–ah–killed before!”
Willow remembered how she’d once killed a spider in terror, and spent a week mourning for it. “But…you were kind to me. So if you do as I say, I’ll spare your life! Please…just keep quiet, and don’t call for help!”
Despite the fact that she was still surrendering, Naomi deliberately shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, there’s really no need to worry about that. We’re all alone in this house.”
Willow’s mouth hung open, before she remembered she needed to look cool and dangerous. “What? Don’t lie to me! I saw the old man earlier today.”
Naomi smiled her strange, inscrutable smile. “Of course you did. He likes to pop in for luncheon and tea time. But the Mayor spends his evenings at various…amusements. Didn’t you see his carriage leaving?”
Feeling the hairs rising at the back of her neck, Willow tried to glance out the window. Part of her wondered if Naomi was playing a trick on her, stalling for time. But ever since she fell down the chimney, something about the house had felt strangely still. “Nice try! There must be other servants. The stable boys! …The town guard?”
“The Lord Mayor only likes to keep one household servant, to save on expenses. The stable boys sleep in the stables, and they’ll already be down for the night by now. The town guard makes a show of patrolling the outer gates, but haven’t you noticed they don’t patrol anywhere near the house itself? They’re not allowed. The Lord Mayor doesn’t even trust them not to steal his treasures. We’re all alone…out of earshot of anyone who could come to my rescue, or pose a threat to you…and knowing the Lord Mayor, he’ll probably be partying till next morning.”
“You’re…you’re just lying, stalling for time. Where’s the key?”
Naomi shook her head. “Please, I can’t give you the key, because it’s not in the house. If I’d wanted to lie, I wouldn’t have told you I was helpless, would I? I’m just so frightened, my mouth is moving on its own. I can’t tell a lie. Papa always said he’d spank me if I ever told lies. Please–”
“Enough!” Willow screamed. Catching her breath, Willow waited for someone to knock at the door, and ask what all the noise was about. And then, it hit her. This was her lucky break. She could take whatever she wanted…do whatever she wanted. Willow stared at Naomi, and a devious thought occurred to her.
She remembered a romantic book she’d borrowed from her dad, where a dashing young rogue broke into a princess’s tower, and found the princess to be less than properly grateful to her rescuer. Willow remembered tracing her finger over the colored illustration, wishing she could be the rakish hero, merrily spanking the beautiful, bawling, bare-bottomed brat of a princess to tears…before her older sister had snuck up on her, and spanked her to tears for ‘reading dirty books.’
Willow forced a smile, which she hoped looked suitably disarming. “So, you can’t get me the gold? Then you’ll pay the price for your insolence another way. What was it you said you planned to do to me? Ah, yes. You were going to ‘spank me soundly, then send me on my way, and let that serve as a warning.’ Well, I think that’s a splendid idea. For being a proper fool of a girl, you deserve a proper spanking. And that’s just what you’ll get.”
Finally, Naomi’s smile vanished. “But…there’s no need for that. I can find you something else valuable! Why risk getting caught?”
Willow rolled back her head and laughed, in imitation of a merry outlaw. “Risk? I live for danger! And no coin can pay back the wound you’ve done to my pride. Now, what will it be, house maid? Will you fight? Or will you submit to your spanking?”
For a moment, Naomi’s cold fury flashed across her face, before she took a deep breath, and composed herself. Then she knelt on the ground, and backed away from the stool. “I…I will obey you, as my mistress. Would you like to bare my bottom yourself, to prepare me for my chastisement, or shall I bare myself?”
Feeling faint, Willow realized she had no clue where to even begin to undress the maid, and slowly approached the stool, still holding the iron poker. “Er…you do it, Naomi. I want you to show me that you’re really ready to accept this…chastisement.”
Slowly, Naomi removed her apron, folded it neatly in front of her, then stood to her full height, and stepped out her black dress, and stood awkwardly at attention in her simple white chemise underdress with baggy white drawers. Finally, Naomi turned and lifted the hem of her chemise, and folded her hands behind her back, just above the waistband of her drawers. “I…I know I must bare my bottom, as you’ve instructed, mistress. Shall I…undress completely?”
Willow imagined the shape of nude form that the billowy underclothes only suggested, and nearly choked. “No need for that. Just bare your ass and get over my knee. And quit dawdling.”
With a quick motion, Naomi unbuttoned the back of her drawers, and unfolded the cloth on either side to reveal a full, plump buttocks, pale as the full moon. “Yes, mistress.”
To Willow’s surprise, Naomi promptly knelt, and crawled on her hands and knees to lie across Willow’s lap, pulling the folds of cloth aside to bare her bottom fully. Willow took a sharp breath as she felt Naomi’s full weight resting on her. It was going to be hard for Willow just to hold the larger woman steady, let alone pin her in place if she decided to scratch and kick. Willow wondered how her sister had managed to keep her in place so easily when Willow was the spankee.
Then, Naomi rested part of her weight on her elbows and knees, which easily reached the floor. “Will you be using the iron rod to beat me, mistress?”
Realizing she was still holding the poker, Willow quickly tossed it aside, and forced a chuckle. “Wuh? Oh, no, no, no! That would be far too cruel! A simple spanking will suffice for an obstinate child like you, Naomi.”
Naomi shifted her weight slightly, and lifted her bottom up higher, as if anticipating the first blow, and welcoming it. “Thank you, mistress. You show me more mercy than I deserve…Please, punish me properly.”
As Willow rested an arm across the small of Naomi’s back, she lifted her spanking hand high, feeling her mouth go dry. “Thank you, Naomi…for being so cooperative. This is going to hurt. Try your best not to kick or struggle, and it will go easier for you.”
“Yes, mistress, I will try my best. Thank you, mistress.”
As Willow raised her hand high, it occurred to her how strangely big Naomi’s buttocks seemed to her.
After Willow experimentally landed the first spank across the closest buttock, Naomi lay quiet, unmoving, as a small, pinkish mark rose in place across her buttocks, in the exact shape of Willow’s handprint.
Willow examined the mark left by her dainty palm, and wondered how long it would take her to spank such a wide, expansive surface area. At the moment, Naomi’s bottom seemed to resemble two rolling hills, blanketed with soft, white snow.
Willow remembered examining her own bottom in a hand mirror after a spanking, struck by the shocking shade of scarlet across her entire seat.
With a pouty, contemplative look, Willow raised her palm and brought it down again with equal force across Naomi’s second buttock, the one furthest from her. Naomi only responded with a soft, “Ooph!”
Willow watched the second tiny pink handprint appear, matching the first. Somehow, the sight of the tiny pink handprints only made Willow angrier. Determined to make this spanking one to remember, Willow took a deep breath, and began to spank with full swings of her arm. Despite her scrawny build, Willow had learned how to fight, and how to use the muscle she had. As she concentrated on putting force behind each spank, taking out her anger with each and every blow against Naomi’s helpless bottom, Willow was sure there was nothing wimpy or limp-wristed about the strokes of her arm. But Naomi was barely responsive.
After enduring a good dozen swats, Naomi gasped softly, and hummed once. Scowling, Willow delivered another ten swats, slightly faster than the first set of twelve, then yet another set ten, willing them to be the worst yet. As Willow felt her shoulder muscles start to warm up, she discovered that it was hard to maintain both the pace and the force of a spanking. This was a workout.
After the 34th stroke landed with a reverberating clap, Naomi only uttered a quiet, “Mmph!” Gritting her teeth, Willow paused for half a beat, savoring the sensation from her rough palm as the impact rippled across her target’s soft, pliant flesh. Then, Willow found her rhythm, and began to spank. She had never spanked another person before, but she had learned a lot about spanking from being on the receiving end, and to her delight, Willow recognized the sounds echoing in her ears. This wasn’t just any spanking. This was the sound of a ferocious, merciless beating, the kind that would have brought fresh terror to Willow’s heart, before her sister would break down the last of Willow’s resolve, strip her of any shred of remaining pride in her skills as a thief. Willow spanked, and spanked, and spanked. And when Naomi answered with a strained, “Aaah!” Willow sensed she was making progress, and redoubled her effort.
After what must have been over a hundred spanks, Willow paused, her chest heaving. But as Willow examined Naomi’s bottom, she felt a strange sense of disappointment. The spanking had managed to give Naomi’s buttocks a soft, rose pink color, nothing like the angry, blood red which Willow distinctly remembered a proper spanking should achieve.
As the sun set, the last ray of soft blue light from the window dimmed, and a cool shadow fell across Naomi’s pink bottom. Naomi shuffled her weight slightly on her knees and elbows, and turned to look over her shoulder. “Is the mistress…satisfied?”
Willow clapped Naomi squarely across the center of her butt crack. “Of course not, that was only a warm up. On your feet, maid!”
Naomi quickly stood, and held her hands behind her head, the folds of her drawers dangling from either side of her wide, child-bearing hips. Naomi glanced at the window. “It will be dark soon. If the mistress plans to spank me further…shall I light a fire?”
Suddenly, Willow remembered the iron poker that acted as her only weapon, and snatched it up. “What are you up to, sneak? Trying to send a warning signal?”
Naomi shook her head. “Oh no, I only wish for you to be better able to see…the results of your work.”
Willow waved the poker toward the fireplace. “Then be quick about it. And don’t bother getting dressed. I want you to remember exactly what's in store for your sorry butt.”
Naomi stooped to her knees, and placed fresh logs in the fireplace. Then she struck a match, and carefully lit some kindling to start the fire. Willow kept her eyes fixed on Naomi’s exposed rear, feeling unbridled joy at the thought that she had finally been the one to dish out a spanking, rather than receive it. At the same time, Willow couldn’t help but feel disappointed in the results. She already felt winded.
Without looking away from the smoldering kindling, Naomi held up a hand. “Mistress? May I have the poker to stoke the fire?”
Absent-mindedly, Willow held out the poker, before quickly snatching it back. “Oops! Uh, nice try! I know what you’re scheming, you vixen!”
Naomi blinked. “What am I scheming, mistress?”
Willow backed away, holding up the poker. “You were planning to turn on me! Don’t play innocent!”
Naomi shook her head, and scooped up a log to act as an improvised poker to finish stoking the fire. “But I’m not innocent at all. You were a guest in this house, and I was terribly rude to you, mistress. It does not matter that you turned out to be a wicked thief in the end. I still ought not have treated you like a helpless child. You must please forgive me.”
Willow held the poker with both hands. “I don’t want to forgive you. I want to spank you.”
Naomi finished her work at the fireplace and stood tall, towering above Willow. Then, slowly, deliberately, Naomi held her hands behind her head, and turned to show Willow her exposed hindquarters. “Of course. This time, would the mistress care to have me present myself in a new spanking position to better offer up my buttocks for whipping?”
As the light started to dance and flicker, casting a warm glow across the maid’s derriere, Willow stared in awe at the sight, before narrowing her eyes. “Spanking…position? You mean bending over my knee?”
With a crackle, one of the heavier logs caught fire, and the flame built to fill the room with a steady, red orange glow. Already, the warm light gave the illusion that the soft pink marks on Naomi’s flesh were a much deeper shade of red than they actually were. “That is a most suitable spanking position…for a young child. I am ashamed to be spanked like a naughty toddler at my age, as I rightly should be. But you promised me a proper spanking, did you not, mistress? Surely, you don’t intend to spend all night spanking me over the knee with your hand? I’m afraid it won’t have the necessary, intended effect.”
Instinctively, Willow jabbed the poker forward as if delivering a sword thrust. But rather than strike the helpless maid, Willow checked her strike at the last moment, holding the sharp tip of the iron poker right between Naomi’s upper thighs. “Don’t presume to tell me what my intentions are, serving-girl. I will punish you however I see fit…”
To Willow’s pleasure, she saw the taller woman stiffen at the cold touch. Then, Willow slowly started tracing the pointed end in circles across Naomi’s thighs and buttocks, and realized Naomi was shivering. Willow smiled. She had been worried over nothing. Now that she was sure that Naomi believed ‘Willow the Thief’ was truly dangerous, Willow finally started to believe it herself. “...But I’m not completely without mercy. I’ll let you off with a good drubbing…so, go ahead and put yourself in the proper position.”
With a light skip, Willow hopped to Naomi’s side, and delivered a playful swing with the iron poker, snapping it across both of Naomi’s butt cheeks with enough force to elicit a yelp out of the helpless, hapless maid. “Yipe! Yes, ma’am! Your word is my command, Mistress Willow!”
Still holding her hands tight behind her head, Naomi shuffled towards the mayor’s work desk, and fetched an ornately carved chair back toward the fireplace. As Naomi set down the hefty, bottom-heavy chair with a thump, it occurred to Willow that the chair must be at least double her whole body weight. Naomi pulled open a shelf, built into the base of the chair. “This is a seat of chastisement. The mayor had one made for every room of the house. It’s heavy enough to hold my weight, and you’ll find plenty of tools suitable for thrashing me. May I suggest the nursery cane? A proper cane stroke will cut through flesh. My predecessor showed me her collection of old scars, when she trained me for this position…but I think that was from a full-sized cane. This one is shorter, but flexible, and solid enough to leave welts. I could escort you to the spanking room, if you would prefer a less slender cane.”
Willow paled at the sight of the nursery cane, and took it from Naomi. “That’s…that won’t be necessary.”
Then Willow noticed the other objects in the drawer: a leather strap, and a hefty, wooden hairbrush, with a geometric pattern carved into the back surface. Willow remembered her terror at her older sister’s hairbrush, and snatched it up. “You’ll get a good dose of the hairbrush. And then we’re through. That’ll teach you not to trifle with a master thief.”
Naomi nodded and crawled to kneel on the cushioned seat of the chair, wrapped her arm around the curved back, and turned to look at Willow, chattering. “Yes, mistress. Thank you for showing me mercy. But remember, a proper spanking must always end in tears. Do not fear to use any tool at your disposal, to break my willful spirit.”
Willow tapped the back of the hairbrush against Naomi’s bottom. Her target was a little high, just above Willow’s eye line, but still within easy reach. “Shut up, you stupid ass…and stick out your ass.”
Naomi stiffened, then turned to rest her face against the upper cushion at the back of the chair, arching her back to raise up her buttocks, presenting it as an open target.
Willow raised the hairbrush high, and swung it downward like a sword. The moment she saw, heard, and felt the results of the impact, Willow instantly noticed the difference. While seated, Willow was limited in her range of motion. Now, even at her diminutive height, Willow could put her entire body into the swing
Naomi yelped, then quickly caught her breath, holding her pose without flinching. A fiery, red welt in the shape of a shining oval slowly rose across her buttock at the point of impact, glistening in the firelight.
After waiting a few seconds, Willow switched her grip on the hairbrush, and swung a fierce horizontal, glancing blow, which ripped across the far side of Naomi’s other buttock. The second stroke lacked the tremendous force of the first, but it was still enough to leave a mark, and Naomi squeaked, almost plaintively.
With fresh determination, Willow began to spank in earnest, delivering another spank every few seconds. She concentrated on just one buttock, determined to paint every square inch of it bright red.
Naomi stayed quiet for the first ten strokes, but after that, she began to squeal and screech after each spank. With a whistle, Willow admired the contrast in color between each of Naomi’s butt cheeks, one bright red, the other pale white except for a single mark. Then Willow switched the hairbrush back to her other hand, and began spanking all over again, until the first buttock matched the first.
As she finished, Willow felt her sore arm. She felt strangely satisfied, as if she’d just finished a good sparring session, or brought home a good haul from a rich sucker. But something still felt missing. Then it hit her. Naomi had gone strangely quiet again. Carefully, Willow circled the heavy chair to examine her victim’s face. “Well? Had enough, hand maid? You’re being awfully quiet. Don’t pretend it doesn’t hurt.”
Naomi’s face was eerily composed. She sniffled. “If you please, Mistress, a proper punishment is supposed to hurt, and I am certainly not pretending. A house maid is trained to be seldom seen, and never heard. It would be unseemly for me to make unnecessary noise.”
“You’re the one who said a proper spanking always ends in tears. I want to hear some crying.”
“Forgive me, mistress, but real tears cannot be faked. If that is your aim, I would suggest you make use of the cane, or the tawse. I’m afraid I do not cry easily, so you will have to be more ruthless.”
Willow tapped the hairbrush against Naomi’s buttocks, then stroked it softly in circles, lifting Naomi’s cheeks with the flat of the brush to look for any spots she’d missed. Willow noticed a couple pasty white spots which had been hidden beneath the folds of puppy fat at the lowest part of the buttocks. Willow clicked her tongue. “Tch! That’s enough chatter out of you. I don’t like this chair. It makes you poke your butt up too high for me. I want you back across my knee.”
Naomi twisted to glance over her shoulder, raising her eyebrow. “But…I already told you, that’s not the best position to–”
“Willow popped the hairbrush across the center of Naomi’s lower bottom, right where the buttocks connected to the upper thighs. “No! I already warned you. You like to wag your tongue, don’t you? Well, that bad habit is going to cost you dearly.”
Naomi scrunched her mouth shut, then quickly stood up, clutching her bottom, before rubbing it furiously.
Willow noticed a very strange look on Naomi’s face, and quickly snatched up the poker. It was as if Naomi was resisting the urge to charge Willow, and spank the diminutive thief.
Willow wondered if she’d overplayed her gamble. If it came to a fight, Willow wasn’t sure she could actually beat Naomi.
Before Naomi could say anything, Willow casually turned around and fetched the stool, setting it in front of the hearth. Willow waited, and watched her foe carefully. “Now, you’re getting extra strokes. Up off that chair, and get across my knee, brat. The only words I want to hear out of your mouth are, ‘Yes, ma’am.’”
There was a dangerous silence. Then, Naomi seemed to notice how improper she looked, quickly lowered her hands from her bottom, and hung her head. “Yes, ma’am.”
Steeling her breath, Willow sat on the stool, and readied herself. She didn’t want to give Naomi enough time to think about the obvious difference in their height and weight. The moment Naomi knelt and bent across Willow’s lap, Willow kicked up her leg to pin Naomi’s legs in place between hers, and secured a grip on Naomi’s waist. It wasn’t easy. Instead of letting Naomi rest her weight on her elbows and knees, like before, Willow had to tense her muscles to support the taller woman’s entire body weight. Naomi let out a little, “Eep!” of surprise as she noticed she was being pinned securely in place.
As Willow examined Naomi’s plump posterior, right in front of her face, she relished the sight of the flickering fire illuminating it. So soft. So pliant. So helpless. And it was all hers.
Concentrating on her follow through, Willow slammed the hairbrush down across Naomi’s right buttock, then her left. Naomi endured the first stroke quietly, but after the second, she let out a small, stifled squeak.
As Willow slowly increased the pace of the spanking to a firm, relentless rhythm, Naomi stayed resolute, enduring her ordeal without protest. Willow couldn’t swing with the same force as before, but she wasn’t worried. She had all the time she needed. No need to rush.
Ten spanks. Fifty. One hundred. Two hundred. Willow lost count, but carried on the spanking without skipping a beat. Finally, Naomi twitched as she felt a particularly sound blow strike across her lower buttocks, and moaned. It was almost inaudible, but it had an unmistakable quality of desperation.
With a satisfied smile, Willow carried on, increasing the tempo of the spanking to a faster beat. Her strategy was working! Soon, the naughty maid would be reduced to a sobbing, blubbering mess. Then Willow would make her masterful escape!
…But where was the crying? With a hungry look in her eyes, Willow forced herself to persist, ignoring the building ache in her shoulders and arms. What was she missing? By this point, Naomi should have been reduced to pitiful begging and screaming. That’s how it always ended when Willow was the one getting her butt blistered. Then, Willow remembered the key ingredient. The moral lecture.
“You horrible girl, you think I’m impressed? You’re just playing stubborn. You think you’re too big and tough for a spanking? Well, you’ll never be too old for a spanking, you nasty little thief. What do you have to say to that?”
Willow paused briefly to hear Naomi’s answer. After a few seconds, Naomi mumbled, “Am…am I being given permission to speak, Mistress?”
With a growl of frustration, Willow began the spanking anew, immediately returning to the same furious pace as before. “Yes! Of course! Answer the question, you little thief!”
Naomi started to answer, before a forceful, trembling whack from the hairbrush cut her off. “But–oof–But I’m not a thief!”
Willow cursed herself for her slip of the tongue. Without thinking, she’d started repeating things she remembered her sister saying to her. But Willow had a flash of inspiration, and kept slamming the hairbrush down, harder and faster. “Don’t lie! You must pinch little trinkets from the old fool all the time, just admit it!”
As Naomi kicked up her feet slightly, her hips twisted, and Willow had to tighten her grip across Naomi’s waist to keep her from dropping to the floor. “Ooh! No, ma’am! I’ve never once stolen from him! I swear!”
Baring her fangs, Willow started spanking with every ounce of force she could muster. She felt like she’d been trying to sprint through an entire marathon. “Stop lying! I know you’re a dirty, hateful little thief, Naomi! Say it!”
Feeling her arm going numb, Willow paused again, fighting for breath. As she rested her weight on her elbows and knees, Naomi twisted her feet across one another, curling and uncurling her toes, almost as if waving them teasingly. “But, Mistress? I mustn’t tell lies!”
Tightening her grip on the hairbrush, Willow forced herself to keep spanking, ignoring the stabbing pain in her shoulder. “You wretched little goblin! I’ll beat your ass til it’s red as raw hamburger!”
Catching her second wind, Willow unleashed an explosion of furious, rapid-fire spanks. “Why don’t you cry? I wanna hear some tears of remorse!”
“But–Oooh!–But mistress–ah!–I already am crying!”
Willow paused, her chest heaving, and glanced down at Naomi. Slowly, Naomi turned to look plaintively over her shoulder, her cheeks stained with shining tears, practically sparkling from the ambient light of the fire. As two fresh tear drops spilled down, Naomi sniffled. “I’m really sorry! Truly, I am!”
As if she had suddenly awakened from a dream, Willow stared at Naomi’s scorched, hot, burning red buttocks. It was the color of a ripe strawberry, evenly spread across the entirety of both buttocks, down to her upper thighs. It looked worse than Willow remembered hers ever being, even after surviving her worst beatings. “Why…why didn’t you say anything? You didn’t even make a sound!”
Naomi blinked, then her smile returned. “Because…I was ordered to keep my mouth shut. In my line of work…to be a professional, means to practice the gentle art of silence…Will you forgive me, Mistress Willow, for underestimating you?”
Willow steadied her breath. As she looked into Naomi’s tearful eyes, she felt genuine pity. She wondered how anyone could be so pitiless as to hurt another person like this. “...Yes…yes, of course, I forgive you, Naomi. I think you’ve been spanked more than enough…”
But then, as Willow examined her victim’s backside, something else occurred to her: when you looked at it from this angle, spanking was a lot more fun.
As Naomi tried to stand up, Willow caught her across the waist, and shifted her knee to keep Naomi off balance, and firmly in place.
As Willow caught Naomi’s eye, she smiled, and enjoyed the sight of the quailing maid’s expression. “Of course, I still have to give you the extra spanks I promised you!”
With that, Willow began to spank all over again, not as fast as before, but with more precise, deliberate force, aiming at the most-sensitive sit spots, hidden just below the maid’s meaty buttocks.
Naomi squeaked, softly as a mouse, and twisted to look away from her tormentor. Despite Naomi’s heroic resolve, she writhed her hips, perhaps subconsciously wishing to escape. Willow ignored the squirming and wriggling, and rediscovered the perfect rhythm. Before, Willow had been spanking in anger, but now that she was in control of herself, she found that this was the perfect balance. Just controlled enough so that the spankee had time to reflect between each spank, and dread the coming blow, but also just harsh enough to keep the spankee constantly on her toes. Despite the difference in their relative sizes, Willow knew that Naomi couldn’t escape, even if she was dumb enough to try.
Willow listened, hoping to hear at least a bit of squealing and screeching, but Naomi only moaned, her breath shuddering as she gasped for air past her flowing tears. Finally, Willow’s respect for Naomi’s strength of will overcame her secret desire to spank a helpless girl until she was reduced to fits of hysterics. Dimly, Willow remembered all the times her will had been broken by a seemingly endless spanking. Even when she knew she deserved one…Willow decided there had to be a point where a poor girl had been spanked enough.
Willow tossed aside the hairbrush. “Alright, Naomi. Spanking’s over. And let that be a lesson to you!”
Naomi lay slumped for a moment, before slowly picking herself up. Her rich brown hair was now a tangled, tumbled, tear-stained mess. “Yes, Mistress Willow. Thank you for spanking me, ma’am.”
Stretching her sore arms, Willow stood, and did her best to stand squarely, face-to-face with the far taller maid. “Now, I’ll be taking something as payment for my troubles, and you can tell your master he can send his regards to Rod Willow, the master thief!”
Folding her hands behind her head again, Naomi nodded, sniffling. “Yes, ma’am. If it would not be too much trouble, would you please leave me gagged and bound? When the Lord Mayor returns home, I would not want him to think I aided you in stealing his treasures.”
Willow paused, considering the legal implications of her situation. This was it. From now on, she was no longer a mere pick-pocket. She was a true thief. “Yes! I’ll have to hog tie you…uh, I’ll need some rope…Or maybe some bedsheets?”
Naomi opened a second drawer below the seat of chastisement, and pulled out leather tongs, attached to straps and buckles. “These should suffice to secure me. Just strap my arms and legs to the spanking chair…Ooh, why not leave me in a spanking position? If the Lord Mayor decides to punish me for my stupidity, it would be most convenient!”
Willow was taken aback, but she was too nervous to argue. “Of course! Um…please put yourself into the position you think would be…proprer?”
This time, Naomi stood at the back of the chair, and bent over the top cushion, resting her elbows against the bottom cushion, and standing on her tip toes to poke her bottom high in the air. “Here! This should hold me fast. Ooh…I’m going to get such a caning from the Lord Mayor. After he’s through with me, I won’t be able to sit down for at least a week!”
Willow swallowed as she secured the straps to the arms and legs of the chair. Worried that she might cut off the maid’s blood circulation, Willow loosening the buckles slightly. “Um…no hard feelings about the spanking I gave you, right?”
Naomi smiled sweetly, shaking her head. “Oh, of course not! I understand the cultural importance of spanking in your country. And I confess that I deserved it. Thank you, Willow. You know, you might make an excellent mother, one day, if you ever want to retire from your career as a thief.”
Willow smiled, feeling a strange sense of kinship with the maid. “Farewell, housemaid. If our paths should ever cross again, I hope we may meet as friends.”
Then, Naomi started to chatter to herself. “Of course, if I ever see you again, it’d be my duty to have to have you arrested. The punishment for grand larceny in Cant is quite severe. I think they flog thieves daily in the public square, with a whip of leather tongs, until they bleed. I hope you don’t get caught, Willow. I’d hate to see that happen to a friend.”
Willow blinked, feeling strangely touched and terrified by Naomi’s words. Then, she heard a sharp knocking from the locked door. They heard the Lord Mayor’s voice booming. “Hey! What’s going on in there? Who’s in my private study?”
“Lord Mayor? Help me! You’re being robbed!”
Willow jumped in place, and snatched up a rag. Acting on instinct, she wrapped it tight around Naomi’s mouth, gagging her. “Shh! Quiet!”
But it was too late. Outside, the mayor started rattling the door, trying to pry it open. “What? It’s that chimney boy, isn’t it? I knew it!”
Willow spotted the window, and scrambled up onto the desk to reach it. As she unlatched it, she saw with relief that she was on the first floor, but even so it was still an 8-foot drop. Spotting a glittering stone encased in glass, Willow snatched it up, along with an expensive-looking book, bound in leather. She could only hope it would be enough.
Just as Willow thrust open the window, the door handle snapped from the wall as the Mayor threw his full, ponderous weight against it. But the chain of the latch caught it before it could open. The Lord Mayor peered through the gap, and as his eyes met Willow’s, he stared at her in shock. Willow forced a smile. “Good evening, Lord Mayor. You have had the honor of hosting Rod Willow, master of thieves. Thank you for your most generous gift.”
Willow jumped out the window, and rolled to break her fall. The Lord Mayor burst through the door, tearing the chain latch from the wall, and snatched at Willow, too late. Shaking his fists, the old man screamed. “Help! Thieves! Robbers! Burglars! Bandits! Larcenists! Tax collectors!”
Willow dashed across the grassy courtyard, until she reached the outer wall of the property, and scaled it. As she peeped over it, she froze. Two guards were standing directly beneath her. “Hey, do you hear someone yelling?”
“Probably just the Lord Mayor spanking the house maid again.”
“No…it’s definitely a man’s voice.”
“Well, maybe the house maid is spanking the Lord Mayor, just for a change in routine.”
“I think we’d better check.”
“Oh, gods, we’ll have to walk all the way around the property to reach the front gate.”
Willow glanced behind her, and saw the Lord Mayor tumbling out the window after her, landing flat on his back.
“Well, if we don’t check we’ll probably get an earful in the morning.”
“Fine. Guess my legs need a stretch anyways.”
Holding her breath, Willow watched the two guards slowly make their way around the wall, heading toward the main gate. Behind her, the Lord Mayor had rolled to his feet and was stumbling after her, screeching curses.
Willow tensed, willing herself not to give herself away until the right moment. Finally, as the Mayor’s screams grew steadily closer, the guards paused, and Willow hopped down from the wall, seconds before the Lord Mayor tried to snatch at her ankles.
One of the guards turned. “Hang on, the’s not coming from the house. It sounds like it’s coming from right behind…Hey–I mean–halt! Who goes there?”
Willow dashed across the street to an alley opposite the Mayor’s manor. Luckily, he had built his mansion in the heart of the city center of Cant, close to work, and close to plenty of places for a thief to hide. Once Willow was out of sight, the guards never had a chance. Gasping for air, Willow reached into her shirt, and pulled out the display case and old book. The glass case had cracked from her rough fall, but the stone inside was unhurt, and the book looked even more beautiful upon a closer inspection.
Willow cracked it open. There, she found a familiar color illustration. A not-quite-so-heroic rogue, spanking a not-quite-so-proper princess. With a smile, Willow slammed the book shut, and casually strolled into the teeming city crowd.
…
After her adventure, the initiation ceremony to join the Can-do Thieves of Can’t was rather anti-climactic. They made their headquarters in an abandoned ferry house, out of sight from the more respectable quarter of town.
There, Willow was awarded her a black uniform, meant to identify any thief in the City as a member of their honorable ranks, and the wizened guild master happily took both the gem and the book as her dues. “Lucky you nabbed the book. It’ll be hard to find the right buyer, but it’d be valuable to a certain collector. The stone wouldn’t have covered your dues.”
Willow held up the black uniform. “Is there somewhere I can change?”
The guild master pretended to be hard of hearing. “Eh? Sure. You can change anywhere you want!”
Willow kept her gaze fixed on the old man. Finally the guild master chuckled. “There’s a private spot in the attic, if you don’t mind a few roosting pigeons peeping on you.”
Willow scaled the ladder, and started to undress. To be honest, she really didn’t care about the Thieves of Cant. But now that she’d jumped through this last hoop, she could get to work in peace. Willow examined the black uniform. It was supposed to be sleek and form-fitting, but it was several sizes too big for her. Oh well, at least she could grow into it. But Willow preferred to wear her street clothes over the black uniform. No sense announcing herself as a professional thief when she was in public.
Then, Willow saw a group of armed men approaching the front of the ferry house. They wore the chain shirts and doublets of the Cant town guard.
There was a sound of splintering wood, and Willow ducked from the window. Below, she overheard a furious argument. “Cough it up, you toothless, old snake!”
The old thief master yelped. “Eh? Whazzat?”
Another guard barked. “Don’t play dumb. Letting you filch a few trinkets was one thing, but now you’ve gone too far.”
There was a scuffling, and the old thief shrieked. “Yeeaaacchh! Hey! My arm don’t bend that way!”
“Did you really think the Lord Mayor wouldn’t notice his entire safe being emptied? Where is the gold!”
“What gold? I don’t know what you’re talking ab—aaarrgh!”
There was a sickening sound of a human body being slammed against solid wood. “Does the name Ross Willow ring a bell? He made off with over a thousand golden ducats!”
Willow had heard enough. Dropping down from the window was no good. There were at least twelve armed men standing at the front entrance, casually beating the snot out of the ranking members of the honorable Thieves of Cant who attempted to flee out the front door.
“Up there! She’s up there! You can have her. Just stop punching my beautiful–Yeeow!”
“Not a girl! We’re looking for a boy, you deaf idiot! Where is Ross Willow, the Master of Thieves?”
Ignoring the sounds of two noble, chivalrous knights knocking out an old man’s remaining teeth, Willow crawled into the uncovered rafters of the ceiling and crossed the beams to the far side of the house, just under the roof. This must be how a sea rat felt on a sinking ship.
Then, she felt a draft, and remembered hearing the old man complaining about this decrepit old ferry house and how the roof leaked. Pressing her palms against the thatch room she found a musty, rain-soaked gap in the reeds, and shoved her way though. She saw a steep drop into the icy, black water of the river. The ferryman’s house had been built right along the edge of the stone levee. Willow jumped, praying the river was deep enough to avoid breaking her legs against the stone bed beneath. She sank full into the water, and instinctively swam along with the current. Then she felt a chill grip her. Emerging from the water, Willow swam wildly looking for a way out of the river, but the levee blocked her in on either side. Downstream, she saw a bridge and swam for it, jumping over a homeless vagrant sleeping beneath it to scale the ornately carved stone support pillar. As she emerged dripping on the street, Willow ignored the stares of passersby and shrugged. “Dropped my hat. Oh well.”
Quickly, Willow pressed through the crowded spectators, who quickly turned their attention to a more interesting spectacle: apparently, entire Thieves Guild of Cant was being placed under arrest. Willow whistled as she ignored the chaotic scene behind her.
Finally, she ducked into an alleyway, shivering. Then, someone dropped a thick blanket over her shoulders. “Careful, child. You’ll catch your death of cold.”
Willow spun, and found Naomi staring at her. “N-naomi?”
Naomi flashed a soft, subtle smile. “You must have me confused with someone else. You know what they say: everyone has a twin they don’t know about it, out somewhere in this world.”
Willow held up her hands. “Please, Naomi, don’t turn me in!”
“Goodness, child! Have a guilty conscience? If I was your mother, I’d spank you, but that’s not really my responsibility.”
Willow narrowed her eyes. “Hold on…the Lord Mayor’s safe. Who broke into it?”
Naomi held up a small, golden coin: a royal ducat. “Here, buy yourself a decent traveling cloak.”
As Naomi held up her hand, her winter cape parted, and Willow saw what she was wearing underneath: a skin-tight black uniform.
Willow reached for her waist, looking for a knife, and realized she’d left it behind. “You…you sneak! You stole the gold, and pinned it on me!”
Naomi flipped the coin. Reflexively Willow almost caught it, nearly fumbled it, and caught it again. Feeling a cold sweat on her brow, Willow stared up at Naomi, who shook her head gently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. The mayor was robbed by a strange boy, who proudly declared himself to be Ross Willow, Master of Thieves…You know, if I was a thief, I also don’t think I’d go around boldly announcing my name like that. I think I’d choose another name…Something simple…More understated…”
Willow clutched the gold coin in her fist, and put up her dukes. “You mean you planned this? You’re a member of the Thieves’ Guild!”
Naomi stuck her nose in the air. “Hmph! How dare you! I’d never think of joining a band of thieves…It would be…beneath me. Of course, if I were a thief, I’d be careful to keep to myself, have a respectable job for cover…”
As Naomi trailed off, Willow answered for her. “...and wait for a golden opportunity to come your way.”
Naomi smile, and pulled her winter coat tight across her chest. “Exactly. Life really isn’t about making plans. It’s more about…learning to improvise…”
Naomi turned and started to walk away. But Willow caught up to her, and held out her hand. “Hey, no hard feelings about the spanking, right?”
Naomi’s careful, stoic expression vanished as her face flushed red. It might have been anger, or embarrassment, or a mix of both, but Naomi quickly recovered her soft smile, and returned the hand shake. “Sure…no hard feelings, Little Miss Soot-bottom.”
…
Soot’s eyes fluttered open, and she heard birdsong. The first light of morning was minutes away. Lifting her head up from her knapsack, which served as her only pillow, Soot stared sympathetically at Zach. During the night, Merta must have snuggled up close to him, and whether by accident or design, Zach’s arm was wrapped tight around Merta’s shoulder. They were a cute couple.
Soot wasn’t particularly interested in being a housewife. The idea of vowing to love, honor, and obediently submit to being spanked by her doting husband didn’t quite appeal to Soot, but she had to admit…Zach never took advantage of the spanking privileges that came with his role and responsibilities as the party leader.
She had a sneaking suspicion Zach might even secretly enjoy performing his chivalrous duty to spank every member of their rag-tag group. But Soot was sure that even if Zach did enjoy spanking a naughty young woman’s bottom, he didn’t enjoy spanking one needlessly. Soot thought of last night’s spanking, and felt the lingering ache left by her own, special, black ebony hairbrush.
Soot watched with amusement as Zach and Merta mumbled, and started to awake. Then they noticed they were in one another’s embrace, and quickly sat up with a start.
The noise woke up May, who mumbled as she lay on her stomach, burying her face in her pillow. “...Five more minutes, Mommy!”
Zach cleared his throat, and reached over to pat May’s behind. “May, it’s dawn. Up and at ‘em.”
With a squeak, May twisted around in her bed roll and sat up, her hair sticking out in a jumbled mess. “I’m up, I’m up! No spanking!”
Zach stepped out of his bed roll, and immediately started packing his gear for the road. “No spanking this morning. Not unless somebody asks for one.”
Soot swallowed. “Actually, Zach, I’ve been meaning to ask you something. I think I need another spanking this morning.”
Soot stiffened as she heard Grace’s prim, proper voice, ringing like a bell behind her. “Oh? This ought to be good.”
Soot twisted, and discovered that, somehow, Grace was already up, packed, ready to go, and dressed in a fresh, pristinely pressed maid’s uniform. “Well, Soot, what did you do this time?”
Somewhat annoyed at herself for not noticing Grace sooner, Soot ruffled her own hair in an attempt to hide her discomfort. “It’s just…I still feel bad about fouling up yesterday.”
Zach looked up from his work, and shook his head. “Soot, you already apologized for stealing the last of the chocolate, and I already spanked you for that. Good and hard, too. You paid the price for what you did, and now you’re forgiven. That’s the whole point of a spanking.”
Soot sprang from her bed roll and squared up to Zach, standing eye-to-eye with him. “It’s…more than that. Sure, you spanked me for stealing, but that’s not the only way I screwed up. It was clumsy. I never should have let you catch me stealing.”
Grace hummed, her eyes dangerous. “Are you saying that you’re not sorry at all for stealing my lost chocolate? You’re only sorry for getting caught?”
Soot pouted as she glared at Grace. “That’s not what I’m trying to say, Grace. I am sorry I stole from you…But I’m a thief. I’m not supposed to get caught. What if you guys need me to steal you something, and I screw it up? I can’t afford to get so sloppy!”
Zach sighed. “Soot…I’d really prefer if you not steal from people again, even if it’s to help the group.”
“Sure. I can respect that. But the fact remains, I’m the thief of the group, and if you need a thief, then I need to be on top of my game.”
Merta stood, eyeing Soot curiously. “Soot…do you really want Zach to spank you for not being better at stealing from us?”
Zach took a deep breath, and crossed his arms. Suddenly, Soot recognized the familiar, focused expression on his face. Zach was consciously entering his Spanker Mode. “Soot, you hate being spanked. Isn’t one spanking more than enough, for one day?”
Feeling her cheeks burning, Soot hid her face behind her hand. “I don’t want another spanking…But no. It wasn’t enough. Please, Zach, I think I need another spanking.”
Zach nodded, and gently took Soot by the wrist. “All right. Thank you for telling me, Soot. I’m sure it wasn’t easy. In that case, let’s get this over with.”
Soot thrilled as she realized how easily she had just been taken in hand. She saw all the other girls’ eyes on her. “What? Right now? Not, like, at the end of our long day’s journey?”
Zach seated himself on a smooth stone, and positioned Soot in front of him, pinning her legs between his knees, then rested his hands on either side of Soot’s hips to gently hold her in place. “This is clearly bugging you, and I don’t want you beating yourself up about this all day. To be clear, I will not punish you for making an innocent mistake. But if you really think you need another spanking, for stealing from the rest of the party, then I’m happy to give you one…in front of the rest of the party.”
May cooed, then scurried closer to get a better view of the action. “Oooo! We actually get to watch Soot get spanked this time? I’ve been waiting for this moment! Ever since you pulled that trick on us during The Great Hairbrush Race!”
Soot swallowed as she glanced at the other women, each in turn. May’s eyes were full of eager delight. Grace looked curiously interested. Soot had the distinct impression that Grace was still slightly salty about her stolen chocolate. Merta’s expression was most curious. Merta seemed frightened, and excited, and sympathetic, and suspicious, and even slightly jealous, all at once. “Zach! You always try to give us some degree of privacy! I know spankings are just a fact of life for us girls, but still…well, modesty’s just something that’s important for a woman.”
Zach glided his hands down along Soot’s hips, and leaned back in his seat. “That’s up to you, Soot. You’re asking for this spanking of your own free will. If you’re having second thoughts, you can back out now. I won’t think any less of you.”
Soot froze, realizing that she was at a point of no return. She was telling the truth when she said she absolutely hated being spanked. But after agreeing to submit to Zach’s authority as her leader, she’d discovered that although she still hated being spanked…she didn’t hate having someone who cared enough to give her a spanking, when she needed one. With a quick, clean motion, Soot dropped her black leggings, revealing her black panties, then slowly raised her hands and held them behind her head. “I know that, Zach. Please, I need you to spank me again.”
Zach looked searchingly into Soot’s eyes. “Then go and fetch your hairbrush, and bring it to me. May, Merta, Grace? I want you all to stand together over there, where you can watch closely. I don’t want to hear any teasing comments at Soot’s expense.”
As May lined up with Merta and Grace, she quickly forced herself to hide her smirk. May was never a bully on purpose, but she’d earned herself enough spankings for accidentally letting her mouth run to know not to test Zach’s patience.
Soot glanced down at her dropped pants, then looked pleadingly at Zach, but his gaze was enough to answer her unspoked question. Yes, she was expected to fetch her hairbrush, dressed exactly as she was, with her pants dangling around her ankles.
Waddling like a toddler, Soot wondered what she was doing, as if she was watching herself from above. Soot was a master thief. A dangerous, fully-capable, femme fatale. But as Soot fetched her hairbrush, she knew that was not all she was. Not anymore.
She had a family now.
And right now, she had to be someone that could be counted on.
After Soot handed Zach the hairbrush, she held her hands up behind her head, and waited.
Usually, Zach preferred to bare their bottoms for them himself, before starting the spanking. But Zach only waited, his arms crossed. “Go on, Soot, you know what to do. Get across my knee.”
Feeling a well of gratitude wash over her, Soot knelt and lay across Zach’s knee. He set the hairbrush down in front of her face. “I’m going to give you exactly the same kind of spanking
I gave you last night. Long, and hard. We’ll start with a warm up with my hand, and finish with the hairbrush. Are you ready, Soot?”
Soot felt her lip trembling. “N-not quite…”
Slowly, she reached behind her, and pulled down her own panties, leaving them in an inverted triangle just below her bottocks. As Soot heard the singing of birds, and felt the cool air tickle her bare buttocks, she relaxed her breathing. The forest was so beautiful.
As he secured his grip on Soot’s dainty waist, Zach raised his hand high. “I’m proud of you, Soot.”
As soon as the spanking started, Soot felt fresh tears spring to her eyes. By only the end of the initial warm-up, she was already crying profusely. Then, through the misty tears, Soot dimly heard Zach ask her to hand him the hairbrush, and lifted it up with trembling hands. Glancing behind her, Soot wondered if the other girls were laughing at her behind her back.
But if any of them harbored any shadenfreude for Soot’s plight, they didn’t show it on their faces.
When Zach landed the first spank with the heavy hairbrush across Soot’s bottom, she felt a desire to scream building in her chest, and two fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.
But although Soot wept freely…she never once raised her voice above a whisper.
The End
