It went on and on, for what felt like forever.
“Please, stop it! Ow! Please?! This is humiliating!”
Elliott’s pleas went unheeded. His followers knew whom they were up against and wouldn’t step in. If it had been a knight spanking their liege, they might have put Elliott’s orders first, but defying this untouchable hag would’ve been far more dangerous than ignoring Elliott.
Elliott’s butt was now swollen, and he could do nothing but groan.
Duchess Somerset looked at Countess Marlborough and said, “I think you’ve done quite enough.”
Elliott smiled, no strength left to voice his gratitude, but...
“I’ll take over from here.”
Elliott would later describe the experience by saying that there were no words to express the utter despair he’d felt in that moment.
Three years older than her brother Grand Duke Vivaldi, the guardian of the royal family took Elliott with a power that belied her advanced age.
“Look, Countess Marlborough. At my age, I cannot swing my hand repeatedly the way that you can,” Duchess Somerset said, despite having a grown man tucked under her arm. In her other hand, she held a leather sandal. “Instead, I use knowledge and experience to make up for what I’ve lost to the ravages of old age.”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
The sound of leather on hide echoed through the dungeon with greater force and speed.
“This has been quite educational. Thank you,” Countess Marlborough said.
“Mm-hm.”
“You didn’t have to do this!” Elliott sobbed.
Just as they set Elliott, who’d shouted himself hoarse, down on the floor...
“Hey, you old biddies! What do you think you’re doing to Prince Elliott?!”
Margaret was recklessly picking a fight with the dangerous old ladies. Elliott’s entourage desperately signaled “Don’t do it!” but Margaret was too angry to notice.
“Oh, and who might you be?” Countess Marlborough asked.
Margaret puffed up her chest. “I’m Margaret Poisson! Of the Baronial House of Poisson!”
“My word, such impudence! It seems some punishment is in order.”
“Whuh?”
Before Margaret had time to register what was happening, Countess Marlborough pushed Margaret under her arm and was rolling up her skirt and pulling down her underwear.
“Wait, what?! I’m a girl! What do you think you’re doing to me with everybody watching?!”
“No man would lust after a behind as unripe as yours,” Countess Marlborough explained.
“That’s not...?! They’re all looking away! And turning red!”
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
“Aaargh!”
“What an unladylike scream!”
“D-Do you think Prince Elliott’s just gonna keep quiet and let you do this to me?!”
“‘Gonna’?! What is a young lady like you doing speaking like gutter trash?!”
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
“Aaaaaaaah!”
Noticing that the shrieks of pain had changed, Rachel poked her head out from behind the curtain...and screamed.
“That’s mine! My punching bag! And I was looking forward to spanking her for the first time too!”
“Who’re you calling a goddamn punching bag?!” Magaret hollered.
“Such language!” Countess Marlborough exclaimed.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
“Countess, it’s about time you let me take a swing at her,” Duchess Somerset pointed out.
“You were lying when you said this was punishment!” Margaret wailed. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, you sickos?!”
Rachel clamored for a turn. “Me next! Me next!”
“You, shut up! You psycho sadist!”
“Why have you not rectified your manner of speech?!” Duchess Somerset asked.
“Oh, piss off!” Margaret growled. “You stop hitting me first!”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
“Mm, what a smackable rump she has!” Duchess Somerset remarked.
Countess Marlborough agreed. “Doesn’t she, though?”
“Ohh, my punching bag is getting more and more used!” Rachel complained.
“I hope you all die!”
“Such language!”
“Now, have we made ourselves clear, Rachel? You had best start acting more obedient unless you want the same thing to happen to you.”
Having administered a corrective lesson, the two harsh instructors responsible for educating the next queen went on their way, their faces glowing with satisfaction. They left behind Rachel, as well as Elliott and Margaret, who were both lying prone with their exposed bottoms in the air, and Elliott’s awkwardly silent entourage.
No one said a word.
Elliott squirmed to his feet, attempting to pull up his pants even though he couldn’t stand up straight. He gave up halfway because of the intense pain in his swollen rump.
Margaret was sobbing uncontrollably, but she still somehow managed to get her underwear back up. Her skirt also rolled back down without issue, obviously.
In the absolute silence of the dungeon, Rachel searched for something to say. She shot a wink at Margaret and gave her a thumbs-up.
“That was cute!”
“Shut up!”
Haley looked down at Elliott, sympathetically offering him an orange, as if saying, “Don’t let it get you down. Here, eat up.”
“Shut up!” Elliott spat. “I don’t need sympathy from a filthy monkey!”
“Damn it! We won’t forget this!” Margaret vowed.
Elliott ran off crying, his butt still half-exposed. Margaret rushed after him. His hangers-on all looked at one another, not sure if they should follow.
Elliott didn’t leave his room for a week after that.