"Still think I'm joking?" Peter enquired, with a hint of amusement in his voice. Susan lay uncomfortably over his lap, her nose almost touching the bedsheets.

"No." Susan grunted. Her chest felt tight as it weighed heavy on the mattress, and the word got trapped in her throat, stumbling out in a low 'Nu-Oh.' with a tiny exhale in the middle of it.

"No what?" Peter planned to make this as drawn out as he could, making sure his sister submitted fully to his authority.

Susan laughed, a shrill and sarcastic guffaw. "Really, Peter? You expect me to call you 'sir'? Well let me tell you something, I'm not a child. You're barely two years my senior. I will not call you 'sir'. Forget it." Every word she spoke was low and pained, as the breathlessness caused by the position she was in got the better of her.

At this, Peter inhaled deeply, flinging the High Queen's right skirt up over her back. He quickly reached for the small strap which lay innocently on the bed and flicked it down sharply onto her covered bottom. The pain was bearable, and Susan didn't let out a sound, but simply clenched her hand slightly, scrunching up a handful of bedspread.

Peter coughed and with a raised voice he repeated his question, "No, what?" He looked at the back of his sister's head, and she could feel his eyes on her, waiting for her response.

The silence was agonising as she lay vulnerable and humiliated, but she had no intention of complying with her brother. His hand was spread firmly over her lower back, pushing her down and restricting her. "Dear Aslan, Peter, will you please just let me breath?!" She exclaimed, her voice brimming with attitude which Peter found to be unacceptable. He lifted the strap high and brought it down fiercely in two consecutive licks. "Ahh." Susan's murmur was muffled in the mattress. She wiggled her toes and shifted her hips slightly in an attempt to help the pain to diffuse.

"I asked you a question. And trust me we will stay here, like this, until you answer me correctly. Do I make myself CLEAR?" Peter was losing his patience and pressed down harder on Susan's lower back, reminding her that he was in charge.

Defeated, Susan knew there was no way out of it. Peter would not go back on his word, that was something she was totally sure of. And so, though hesitantly, she replied. "Yes...sir." Her face grew hot as the word fell bitterly from her mouth, and she felt tears of humiliation burnt in her eyes. Although no one was watching, she felt as though there were a thousand eyes on her. Submitting to Peter's authority made her feel so deeply patronised.

Peter smiled. "Good. Now let's hope this is the last time I have to ask you this... No, what?"

Gulping back the lump in her throat, Susan tried to keep her voice from shaking, "No, sir."

"Finally! Was it really that difficult after all?" Peter knew his moody sister wouldn't reply, and broke the silence, "Now let us start again. What did you do Susan, that landed you here in this position? And yes, I have every intention of treating you like we would one of the younger ones."

Susan's mind reeled back to supper time...