Chapter Eleven
Where There’s a Whip There’s a Way
That afternoon was spent, rather unpleasantly, in our spoiled Princess’ increasingly humble opinion, in a didactic alternation. First she would stand to attention before her solemn Lord and Master reading from the affidavits of her (and her minions) depredations, a dishearteningly thick sheaf of parchments recited to her two pages at a time. Then she would be bound over the spanking horse with her legs spread wide and her loyal handmaiden positioned to attend to her discomfited Mistress’ p***y as the Prince decreed. Then he would introduce his naughty bride’s buttocks and thighs to yet a new implement of the infliction of disciplinary pain. It seemed there were dozens of these in the household, ranging from leather slippers to hairbrushes
