The Nowhere Girls

01Apr14

bare bottomNowhere extended for as far as the eye could see and it was beautiful.  Karl Justice had no idea why anyone would want to change things, it was perfect.  He had just crested the ridge of the Never Hills and was on the final approach to the Vanity Valley. The forest of Tapu trees in every colour green never failed to lift his heart and he remembered climbing the red cork trunks as a boy all the way to the top of 500 foot giant just to see the view.

In the distance he could see Miriam, the capital of the region and before that lay his destination, Castle Vanity, which rose like a crystal spike above the canopy of the forest.

Just then an azure and green butterfly fluttered by, with a six-foot wing-span it was one of the smaller ones he guessed, a mere youngster judging by the lack of crimson spots. He watched it for a moment and then it flew away into the silver rose bushes with blooms as big as his head.

But Karl didn’t have all day to dawdle for he had an appointment with Lady Marmoset who had been most anxious to see him and her castle was still some way off. So with one more look at the view, he adjusted his hat, hefted his bag and broke into a stride to descend the hill on the steel blue highway.

*

Lady Marmoset sat like a queen on a wicker chair overlooking her garden. Karl Justice was late and she was getting anxious. It had been three days since her ward Amy Monseigneur had left the castle without permission and now her spies were telling her that she was consorting with rebels.

Not that the rebels were dangerous at all. Their names were well-known to the authorities and none of them had done a thing but write pamphlets for nearly three generations. Some of the hereditary rebel leaders even had respectable jobs and only worked as rebels at the weekend.

They would meet in ale taverns to set the world to rights, sometimes even writing another pamphlet, some of which were quite good. But none of this was the point. Her ward Amy should not be consorting with them, not when Lady Marmoset was one of the Seven on the Council of Regents.

Lady Marmoset sighed and pulled at a strand of long raven hair, a habit she had had since being very young. The black hair and dark complexion was a mark of her aristocratic ancestors but sometimes it was a burden, particularly for a noblewoman who had not yet married. But still she was young, barely 138, she still had time.

No, at the moment it was her noble wards that troubled her. She glanced at Amelia Du Bow, her youngest ward who sat patiently nearby waiting lest she should be required. Lady Marmoset was certain that the girl’s meekness was a cover for all manner of mischief, but it was so hard to tell.

Amelia had similar dark features to herself, but where Lady Marmoset wore her hair piled on her head, the younger woman wore it down in a thick plait over the left shoulder of her silver grey dress. This was no doubt significant among the youth in the city, but Lady Marmoset had long since lost touch with such fashions.

“Amelia,” Lady Marmoset spoke.

The girl blinked her dark brown eyes twice and said, “My Lady?”

“Have you done anything naughty lately?” the Regent asked.

Amelia’s mouth opened to speak but closed again. She was not sure how to answer that. Until only a few weeks ago she had been subjected to weekly maintenance spankings and jolly embarrassing painful ones too. But then this regime had stopped. Perhaps Lady Marmoset wanted to resume the practice.

“Shall I fetch a hairbrush?” Amelia asked with a sigh, now standing up.

As she did so she reached around to the rear panel of her tight hobble dress and made to remove it. All respectable women had spank-panels at the rear of their clothing; a consequence of the Dark Empress who had been overthrown by the Council of Queens a thousand years before. But then everyone knew that story.

“No,” Lady Marmoset said wearily, she was certain that Amelia was a mischief-maker now; she was too good at hiding in plain sight. But at least she was discreet.

Why hadn’t she kept a tighter rein on Amy Monseigneur? Now there was a girl who would have benefitted from regular spankings.

“Is someone else going to get a spanking then?” Amelia asked.

It was not that unusual, the young woman considered, most offences were dealt with a spanking. But since the end of the maintenance regime, none had happened at Castle Vanity. Not that Amelia had gone without being spanked. Two weeks before she had been rude to a peasant at the market and he had spanked her soundly in the town square. She had had to be rude to him three more times in as many days before he asked her out. Sometimes peasants could be so dull-witted.

In answer to the question Lady Marmoset sighed, “I rather think they are.”

*

Amy Monseigneur sat eyeing up the rebel leaders wondering who would speak first. Not that they weren’t all good at speaking. Charlie Bigger was particularly loud. He was from a long line of rebels and had won rebel of the year three times running.

Of course, on the side he was a stock-broker. He even had a knighthood in that capacity. He said it helped him bring down the system from the inside.

Amy didn’t actually know what the system was, but it sounded pretty dangerous as it had already enslaved half the population and they hadn’t even noticed. Just thinking about it she reached for her sword and tugged at it wondering when the fight would start. But that was as far she got.

Drawing her sword made the others nervous and once she had been thrown out of a pub for doing it. That wasn’t all that had happened that day. She blushed. But that didn’t count, she hadn’t been ready.

Then there had been that time down by the river when Charlie had…

“Maybe we should write another pamphlet,” Dr Sedgwick suggested.

There was some all-round nodding at this and Amy sighed in frustration. No fighting today then, she decided.

*

Karl Justice bowed curtly to Lady Marmoset and then without being invited dropped into a chair beside her and reached for a bun on the table.

“Is there any more tea?” he said, eyeing the cold empty pot that had sat on the garden table since before his arrival.

Amelia, always nervous in Karl’s presence anyway, hastened away to fetch some.

“Amy has joined the rebellion,” Lady Marmoset sighed.

“Excellent,” Karl replied, his mouth full of bun, “I always said she needed a career.”

“But it is all my fault,” the Regent wailed, “I should have been harder on the girl.”

“Oh, isn’t it a good thing then?” Karl paused.

She looked at him. Even sitting down he looked tall. But he was rather too pale to be so familiar with the aristocracy. Even his hair couldn’t make up its mind what colour it was. It was mostly light brown, granted. But in places it had reddish streaks and was flecked with premature grey. Even peasants could get a pill for that, Lady Marmoset thought, what was wrong with the man? And what was with that hat?

Seeing the fall of her gaze Karl reached for the large floppy cavalier hat he wore and removed it. The aristocracy were always touchy about that kind of thing. It was up there with not using the desert spoon for soup. It was even worse than consorting with rebels. Some of them had the nicest table manners by all accounts.

“I see that it’s not,” Karl continued brightly. “I had assumed that I was here to attend to Amelia as usual. But seeing as she is not in a freefall of a funk and most certainly isn’t standing in the corner as she should be I must assume you have something else in mind.”

“Always so astute Mr Justice,” Lady Marmoset sighed.

“I suppose you want me to go and find Amy and bring her home,” Karl said as he munched on his bun.

Amelia chose that moment to return carrying a tray with a fresh pot of tea and a clean set of cups. At the mention of Amy she listened intently. That little madam always got away with far too much in her humble opinion.

Lady Marmoset licked her lips suggesting some nervousness and then sucked in a long slow breath through her nose. Karl and Amelia waited expectantly knowing that some kind of announcement was about to grace their presence.

“All in good time Mr Justice,” Lady Marmoset said carefully, “That is to say, certainly yes and when you do…” the good lady wafted her hand airily as if her words were of now true import, “…deal with her thoroughly.”

Karl nodded absently even as he eyed Amelia significantly. The girl blanched and took half a step back before realising it was the tea he was after. So she shook herself and hastily placed the tray on the small garden table.

“No what I need you to do…” Lady Marmoset began.

Amelia leaned forward in anticipation, although Karl was more preoccupied with pouring himself a cup of tea.

“Lovely,” he cooed as he hefted a steaming cup in one hand and another bun in the other.

Lady Marmoset shot a glance at Amelia and said in a brittle voice, “You may leave us.”

Amelia frowned, but nonetheless executed a perfect curtsey and hurried away, although she didn’t go very far.

“So what do you want me to do?” Karl asked, turning his full attention now to the Regent.

“I think you know already that,” Lady Marmoset said icily, but he could see she was blushing.

*

Lady Marmoset was mortified. It wasn’t that she didn’t know the rules, but she had counted on some privacy at least. Instead, “just to get started,” Karl had said, he had taken her over his knee right there in the garden and unbuttoned the removal panel at the back of her long tight skirt. Underwear not being the custom ever since the reign of the Dark Empress, as everyone knew, her bare bottom had just been allowed to burst through the large rectangular hole in her skirt to expose it to the breeze.

“Can’t we just…?” Lady Marmoset spluttered her face now a colour to match the roses. She just knew Amelia would be skulking in the bushes watching.

“Come now, this is just a warm up,” Karl had tut-tutted her.

That ominous phrase caused Lady Marmoset to glance at apprehensively at the padded frame now assembled in the middle of the lawn in full view of the lane and anyone on that side of the castle.

“Please can’t we…?” the Regent made another miserable attempt for mercy.

“Your private spankings are therapy as you know, for a punishment we have to get serious and you in your own words need a punishment to make amends for failing Amy,” Karl chided her.

He brought all further debate to an end by landed a heavy blow with the short teak paddle he held in his right hand, the impact of which made a crack that echoed around the garden.

Lady Marmoset responded to the spank with a gasp and clamped her jaws tightly sealed while the introductory strike sizzled in her bottom.

For Karl this response wasn’t good enough and he was determined to extract some contrition before the main event. Nevertheless, it took a dozen spanks before he even got a vocal grunt from the Regent and even then she only bucked modestly as her bottom turned scarlet and gentle tears tumbled from her wide starting eyes.

It was the supressed giggle somewhere behind the rose bushes that broke her. Her own ward was watching her shame.

“Please,” Lady Marmoset bawled, “Please I’m sorry, no more please.”

Karl ignored her entreaties and went on spanking the sobbing woman for another five or 10 minutes before setting her on her feet.

“You may have 30 minutes in the corner before we put over the bench,” Karl told her. “It will let you pull yourself together.”

Lady Marmoset was wracked backwards, her body a tight bow as she clawed at the unrelenting sting in her behind, her tear-streaked face purple with impotent rage. Corner time, but she was a regent, what if…? She wondered frantically if she could cower behind the aspidistra in the conservatory where no one would see her.

“The patio, over there,” Karl pointed, “That is where I want you.”

“Oh you wouldn’t make me,” she wailed.

But Karl’s expression was hard and she had no choice.

*

Corner time had been hell, all 45 minutes of it. It seemed that not only had Amelia ‘chanced by’ but every gardener, maid and bottle washer had business in that part of the castle grounds. The story was certain to make the evening chronicles and she didn’t wonder that the town crier would be announcing it. But at least she recovered some measure of dignity.

Then as she was released she saw the punishment frame still awaiting her on the lawn. The long thin bundle of rods looked evil.

“I wasn’t that remiss in my duties,” she wailed.

“Weren’t you?” Karl asked, “Is that what you will say if the Council of Seven asks?”

He was right, she thought, if she made amends now she would make some political capital out of it. Better that than be forced to make an even more public show of penitence. Damn that Amy, how dare she consort with rebels?

“Let us have your skirts right off before you bend over the frame,” Karl said officiously, “I want that humble bottom of yours pointing at the sky for the rest of the afternoon.”

Lady Marmoset sighed heavily. This was too much, she groaned inwardly, even though in truth she knew it was what she had signed on for. Just you wait Amy Monseigneur, she thought bitterly, I’ll confiscate every rear panel you own for a year and the chores… ooh I’ll have you spanked so hard…

But just then it was her own bottom that was in jeopardy and she gulped before steeling herself for the long, long walk to the punishment frame.

The bench itself was like two As joined by a padded bar. Below that was another platform to kneel on, which she obliged Karl by so placing her knees. The lower bar on the other side of the padding had handles where a girl could hold on and held in place by gravity as she bent over. It was a most undignified part of the procedure. It took a moment but before long she was right over to be rendered prone and exposed.

The posture was obscene and once again she heard giggles from behind the roses. More than one person was watching her now, she was sure of that. But that was the last of her true thoughts on the matter. For in a moment liquid fire was painted right across her bare bottom and she screamed. I wasn’t ready, she told herself, a statement that was equally true of the next searing swipe and the 38 that followed that.

By then of course her maroon bottom was a rash of networked welts and as raw as beaten liver. A status of girl flesh that drew a song from her lips throughout the entire operation.

“Amy Monseigneur, just you wait,” she was heard to yell at one point, but there was a lot of yelling and it was hard to be sure.

*

As soon as Amy Monseigneur saw Karl Justice sitting on the milestone at the corner of the road that led from the inn she knew she was in trouble. For a moment she even considered drawing her sword and challenging the man to a duel. However, he was a commoner and in any event he had no sword.

“Would you be so kind as to remove the tail panel form your breeches,” Karl said pleasantly.

Amy blushed and not for the first time resented the embarrassing custom of having such a facility in her attire. It was mortifying that she had to be ready for a spanking at all times. But everyone woman in the land had to do it; a fact of life ever since the reign of the Dark Empress.

“Can’t we talk about it?” Amy offered.

“I am happy to talk it over with Lady Marmoset that you refused a lawful request,” Karl said gently.

Amy returned a pout and kicked a pebble on the road so that rattled away and skidded into the bushes.

“Do I have to?” she asked sullenly, “Here I mean?”

Karl nodded.

“If I do, will that be the end of it?” Amy asked hopefully.

She looked around and there was no one about just then so maybe if she did get it over with it wouldn’t be so bad.

“I am not here to bargain,” Karl replied, “But I warn you, there is a punishment frame waiting back at Castle Vanity and when I left Lady Marmoset was busy removing all the rear panels from your clothes.”

Amy gaped and her hand absently teased at the hilt of her sword. It was a gesture that Karl did not miss.

“I further warn you that Lady Marmoset’s own rear panel is removed and she is not expected to sit down until Tuesday,” Karl informed the woman.

“Oh fiddlesticks,” Amy sighed, “I am in deep do-do aren’t I?”

Dejectedly she stumbled across the road fumbling with her rear panel and unbuttoning it as she went. In a moment her bare bottom was peeking through the back of her breeches and she was blushing for the nation.

“Here,” she snapped angrily, handing the large square of cloth to Karl.

“You know you won’t get this back for a while?” he said as he pulled her firmly over his knee while Amy gave only a token resistance.

“I know,” she sighed, “I guess I won’t be seeing the rebels again for a while too.”

“Quite a while I would think,” Karl chuckled as he patted her exposed bare bottom.

The spanking began well enough. Amy took it stoically at first and Karl soon got into his stride as the two pert halves of the woman’s bottom turned ever pink and pimpled-up to the beginnings of true red. But after a few minutes Amy began to pant like a labourer and kicked her legs. Then shortly after that she began to mewl like a lost kitten.

“Please, okay I’m sorry,” she muttered, “You can quit now.”

“I hardly think so,” Karl said indignantly and spanked her firmly with the flat of his hand.

Amy Monseigneur’s explosion into tears was sudden and violent, mortifyingly coinciding with the passing of a work gang on their way home. They paused only for a moment to laugh at the bawling girl in a flood of tears getting a spanking and then went on their way.

“Don’t worry about them,” Karl said casually, “There will be plenty of other passers-by before I am through and then there is the long walk home…”

This was too much and Amy broke to full sobbing.

“That’s the way, let it all out,” Karl soothed as the spanking reached halfway done.



4 Responses to “The Nowhere Girls”

  1. 1 paul1510

    Damian,
    some interesting customs in this new land of yours. 🙂
    Paul.

  2. 2 markomat

    Hilarious! To hell with Disneyworld! That’s where I want to go for summer vacation this year!

  3. 3 John

    Great story, you have so many different ideas, hope to hear more of this land, this could be the start to something like MAGIC keep up the great work.

  4. 4 DJ

    Thanks guys

    I envisioned this as a minor story – maybe there will be a sequel – but the humour may run out in a long series.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: