“Perhaps I shall. But you must show your queen obedience, Alice. Can you do that?”
“Yes.” Alice was so frightened her whole body shook.
“Tell me how many times I should paddle you. If the number is too tiny, I shall multiply it by ten.”
Alice had no idea how to answer. She hadn’t been spanked since she was a child, and the experience terrified her. What did the Queen think was too tiny a number? Five? Ten?
“Twenty,” Alice said.
“Twenty,” the Queen cooed, rubbing her hand across Alice’s back. She cupped one of her buttocks and held the paddle up to Alice’s lips.
“Kiss the paddle, Alice.”
Alice couldn’t imagine anything more outrageous. Kissing the very implement that was about to cause her pain was intolerable. But then the Queen was flicking her fingers across Alice’s most sensitive parts, coaxing a moan from her, and Alice pursed her lips and kissed the wretched paddle.
“Now lick it, Alice.”
“Please, don’t make me.”
“Lick it and make me believe you like it, or your ordeal will get worse.”
Alice didn’t believe her ordeal could get any worse, but the Queen was using a flicking motion with her thumb, a movement so intense it felt like Pilar’s back massager. No longer trying to resist, Alice gave the paddle a long, slow, sexy lick, as she felt dozens of eyes burning into her. If that wasn’t bad enough, the action made Alice somehow lose control of her hips, and they began to buck involuntarily, pressing up against the Queen’s hand.
Alice was so embarrassed she wanted to die.
“Look! The slut licks the paddle!” the Queen declared.
The crowd gasped.
“And look how she moves her hips!”
More gasps, and some camera flashes. This was intolerable. Alice’s whole body burned with a blush, but she still couldn’t stop wiggling her bottom.
“Alice, I have sentenced you to be paddled for being a slut. The number you have chosen is twenty. Is that your final number?”
Alice wasn’t sure how to answer. The Queen’s fingers were making it impossible to think. Was this a chance to save herself from the number being multiplied by ten?
“Forty!” Alice squealed, praying it was high enough.
Another gasp from the onlookers.
“You heard her! Alice begs to be paddled more times!” the Queen said. “Who else but a slut would do that?”
And then the Queen’s lovely fingers were withdrawn, and she walked behind Alice, continuing to pat and caress her buttocks, which the spanking table position high in the air for all to gape at. Then the Queen began to recite a poem, which made perfect sense given the situation.
Twinkle twinkle little slut,
Now we’ll spank you on your butt,
Everyone will stand and watch,
As you bare your hairless crotch.
“What is with you people and your stupid rhymes?” Alice asked.
The Queen raise the paddle high, and Alice was infused with the same kind of adrenaline-fueled fear as when she was at the doctor’s and about to be given a shot.
“Wait!” Alice pleaded. “Shouldn’t I have a safeword?”
The Queen paused. “A safeword?”
Alice nodded frantically. “If things become too painful, I say the safeword and you stop.”
“But my dear, a paddling is supposed to be painful.”
“Please, Your Majesty! You must allow me a safeword. I beg you.”
The Queen’s brows furrowed, and she said, “Fine. Your safeword is more.”
“Thank you, Your-”
A loud crack! thundered across the croquet area as the paddle landed on Alice’s left buttock, cutting off her next word.
Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt much. Pilar’s spanking had carried more weight and force. But the surprise and suddenness of the blow made Alice cry out.
The second and third strikes came quickly, and now a definite heat had settled into her bottom. Strangely, it matched the heat between her legs, and by the fourth smack Alice realized with great astonishment that she wasn’t minding it too much.
With five and six, the stinging began, but Alice was able to bear it.
At seven smacks on her left buttock, Alice really began to feel it. The Queen wasn’t hitting her any harder than before, but each seemed to build upon the last. Though she wasn’t able to tune out the gawking crowd around her, Alice had begun focusing on the lick of the paddle, the sensations it produced. She found herself anticipating the next blow, almost willing it to come.
But the Queen didn’t swing. Instead, her hand moved between Alice’s legs and begin to stroke rapidly. Alice cried out, the pleasure from the caress and the sting from the paddle blending together until they seemed to be one and the same.
“Tell the crowd, Alice,” the Queen purred. “Are you a dirty little slut?”
Alice shook her head. She could never say those words. They were too embarrassing, too vulgar. She would have been humiliated to say them to Lewis, whom she planned to marry some day. But to this group of strangers? Naked and bent over a spanking table? No way could she debase herself like that.
“Very well,” the Queen said, and then began a flurry of paddle strokes, so fast they sounded like applause. Alice’s legs were tense, her muscles locked, and she set her jaw and tried to brace herself against the onslaught, but it came so fast that all she could do was cry out. Right when Alice was certain she couldn’t bear another blow, the Queen switched buttocks, focusing on the right one and giving the burning left one a rest.
But all too soon, her right rump began to heat up and sting something mighty. Alice struggled against her bonds, trying to pull away from the paddle, but there was no escape.
“More!” Alice yelled, reaching the peak of her endurance. “I beg you!”
The Queen stopped, and Alice let out a long sigh of relief. The sigh became a moan as the Queen roughly jammed two fingers inside her, working them in and out.
“The slut begs for more,” the Queen said, “even though she has completed her sentence!”
“No!” Alice cried. “Please don’t.”
“How many more would you like, slut?”
“No more, Your Majesty! Please! I beg you!”
“A thousand? I can form the crowd in a line, give them each a chance to paddle your splendid bottom.”
“No! Don’t! I… I…” Alice squeezed her eyes shut. “Five more!”
“The slut wants five more!” the Queen shouted.
The audience cheered.
“Count them, Alice. If you lose count, we shall start over.”
Again the paddle struck Alice’s tormented bottom, lighting it up as if she’d sat upon a stove.
“One,” she said, fighting tears.
“Louder.”
“One!”
The Queen returned her two fingers to Alice’s honey hole, thrusting once and making Alice gasp. Then the fingers were removed and the paddle came down again.
“Two!” Alice yelled.
The Queen’s fingers again entered Alice, this time pumping in and out twice. Then the paddle once more.
“Three!”
Three lovely strokes, and once again Alice’s bottom began to buck. When the paddle hit the fourth time, Alice moaned, and she couldn’t tell if it was from pain or pleasure.
