From the diary of our dear Princess Eadlyn Schreave, age sixteen
Why isn't spanking outlawed? I thought we lived in a civilized society now, we abolished the castes and the abstinence laws, isn't it about time we outlaw this barbaric practice?
This was the proposal I brought forward to my parents – the first of many great ideas of mine if I may add. I was seven at the time and mother had just spanked me for the first time. Before, she had only ever scolded me, wagging her petite feminine finger in my face making empty threats of spanking me. I vaguely remember her swatting my bottom once while on family vacation in Carolina, though that was not a true spanking but merely a warning shot that thankfully worked on two-year old me. Daddy wouldn't even dream of laying a hand against his sweet daughter, I relish watching him grimace just lecturing me when my mother is all tuckered out from it.
For seven years my royal bottom had remained virginal to the punishment that plagued my brothers so much, there was rarely a night where the palace halls didn't echo with the sounds of my mother's hand warming their backsides accompanied by their boyish wails. I often sat outside their rooms and listened to their anguish, laughing to myself, then scurrying away before mother caught me snooping and gave me a taste of my own medicine.
However, this one particular evening I was being, self-admittedly, a bit of a brat. One of the maids was giving me my nightly bath and she accidently used a commoner's conditioner on my royal head. My hair dried up like a desert not being used to such a harsh and cheap product. The thought of it still boils my blood. I opened my mouth and yelled at the poor girl, though she did deserve it, I mean what idiot can't clearly read the name printed on the bottle?
"You incompetent wench! Can't you read?" I yelled. "You've ruined my hair. I'm the Princess of Illéa, heir to the throne. I could have you whipped for this."
Leanne was no stranger to my frequent tantrums, and I did have quite the mouth (and quite the vocabulary) for a seven-year old girl. I always chided her when she messed up, which was often (her family were Eights before). In reality I was more of the adult and her the child in this relationship.
However, unbeknownst to me, mother had been standing at the door the whole time, hearing her bratty daughter mouth off to a maid. My mother happened to be very fond of the palace help, one of her best friends Miss Lucy was one of her maids during the Selection, so she's always held them in high regard, too high if you ask me.
Before I could say another foul word her acrylic nailed hand snatched me by the arm and yanked me butt naked out of the bath tub. She looked me square in the eyes and she raised her brow the way she did when she caught my twin eating extra desserts.
"Eadlyn Amberly Schreave," she bellowed, "Who do you think you are going around talking to people like that?"
"I'm the Princess," I said.
"That gives you no right to talk to her as if she's a dog. She's a human being for God's sake and you'll treat her as such with respect and dignity. Do you understand?"
"But mother she ruined my hair!"
Mother gasped, her eyes watered a bit, clearly appalled at the daughter she'd raised. Her hand came suddenly and swiftly popped my wet bottom.
"Oww!" I cried. Her smack cracked the air as well as my poor backside stinging with her handprint. "What did you do that for?"
"To be honest I should've done it ages ago. I've let you turn into a spoiled brat who thinks the world revolves around her. Well, that ends tonight."
Before I could get another word out she flipped me over with all my royal bits up and open for practically the whole palace to see and began a bombardment of smacks on my poor butt. The water made it sting, a sharp pain that lingered after each smack just long enough to send my body reflexively squirming, then the next came and the whole process restarted. The air filled with the crack of her hand against my bottom, though I did my best to hold back my tears for as long as I could. Stubborn as I was, I wouldn't let her have this victory. However by the fifteenth or so spank my butt throbbed something else and I could no longer contain my wails. At that moment I saw from the corner of my eyes a satisfied smirk creep onto my mother's face, she'd finally broken through to her bratty daughter. Leanne silently watched my first spanking, the girl tried so hard to hide her grin, though her cheeks were bright red behind her hands, almost as red as mine (and I'm not talking about my face). There came a time where the tears blurred my vision so much that I didn't bother to keep them open and lay there in her grip, limb, ass on fire, taking my first spanking like a champ.
She set me up and delivered a final parting smack that send me into the air. I danced around the floor rubbing my sore bottom lite ablaze by her hand. Who knew that such delicate hands could deal out such a spanking?
"Now go apologize to Leanne," said my mother.
"I'm sorry!" I cried, still hopping about.
Leanne nodded her head and exposed her smile. I filled with anger and embarrassment all at once. That girl ruined my hair and here I was naked, wet, and a red bottom that stung worse than the time I got sunburned.
"Thank you. Now get your little rear in that bath tub and don't you dare make another peep or I'll warm your bottom again." She then turned to Leanne and gave her a loving touch. "If she gives any trouble feel free to spank her."
"No!" I whined, horrified at the prospect that some servant girl could give me, the bloody Princess, a spanking.
"In fact I think I'll give that right to all the staff."
Needless to say I remained mute that night, my butt throbbing in pain long after I'd dried off and wrapped myself in my night covers. I slept on my stomach that night, plotting my proposal in between rubbing my tender tush.