by Philip Kemp
As Garth was about to reply, the goat nuzzled Snow White’s legs. She cried out in fury and kicked it. The animal bleated in pain and ran off.
To her astonishment, the Princess felt her wrist grasped from behind. She swung round. In Garth’s eyes she saw something she had seen in no man’s eyes before. It was anger.
Alarmed, she made to slap him again with her free hand. But before it struck his cheek that hand too was gripped, as firmly as the other.
‘I gave you fair warning, Snow White,’ said Garth quietly. ‘I told you not to hit my goats or me. But you think you can hit anyone you like. Well, you cannot – for all you may be a princess, and my liege lady. This, my girl, is the first lesson you must learn.’
Holding both her wrists in his strong grip, he drew her towards him. ‘You gave your word!’ cried Snow White. ‘Is this how you keep it?’
‘I gave my word I would not harm your virginity,’ replied Garth. ‘Nor shall I. I made no other promise.’
He reached to the table and picked up a flat implement shaped like a small paddle. It was a thin slat of wood some twelve inches long with rounded corners, a handspan across at its broader end.
‘Do you know what this is, Princess?’ he asked.
‘Why should I?’
‘No reason at all. But I shall tell you. It is a magic wand.’
‘There is no such thing,’ scoffed Snow White. ‘These are tales for children.’
‘Maybe so. Nonetheless, this wand can work certain kinds of simple magic. Its true name is a spatula, and I use it for making cheese. But it has other uses – as you, my lady, shall soon find out.’
The next thing the Princess knew, the floor was six inches from her nose, and she was face-down across Garth’s lap. ‘Let me go at once!’ she cried in rage. ‘What do you think you’re doing, you wretch?’
Now, strange as it may seem, she really had no idea what was to happen to her. She had never known a mother, and her father had spoilt her from birth. None in the Palace dared reprimand her, though once or twice her nurse’s palm had itched to give the young madam what she was asking for. But the old woman had prudently stayed her hand, and never in her eighteen years had anyone lifted a finger to Princess Snow White.
Still, she had heard and read of spankings being given to naughty children. And now she realised with horror that the unspeakable indignity of a smacked bottom was about to happen to her, a Royal Princess.
‘How dare you!’ she shrieked. ‘Let me go, you churl! This is lèse majesté! Release me at once! I shall summon help!’
‘Summon away,’ retorted Garth, as he rucked her dress up above her waist. ‘There’s nobody within five miles but me and my goats. So yell all you want; you’ll have your bottom well and truly tanned all the same. What you do about it after that is up to you. But at least I’ll have given you what you richly deserve, and I wager that’s more than any other man has dared.’
‘Help!’ cried Snow White, struggling wildly. ‘Let me go, you wretched peasant! You shall die for this!’
‘Maybe I shall,’ said Garth equably, ‘and maybe I shan’t. But one thing is certain beyond all maybes, my girl. Princess or no, you’re in for the finest spanking of your young life.’
Ignoring her struggles and outraged shrieks, he gazed on the charming prospect before him. The Princess was tall and slim, but also shapely, and her bottom proved to be pleasingly curved. Nothing now protected its ripe contours but white silken drawers. Few people wore underwear in those days, and Garth had never seen such a garment. He paused and stroked its softness. But the tender flesh beneath felt softer still, and with one swift movement he peeled down the sheer fabric to reveal as alluring a bottom as one could wish to see. Full and white and flawless, it swelled delectably upwards, inviting prompt attention.
‘You have a very pretty bottom, Princess,’ he told her, fondling the cool smooth flesh. ‘Yet it has one great flaw. It is far too white for my taste. I would fain see it red – red as a rose, red as a sunset, red as a ripe apple. And soon it will be so.
‘For such, my lady, is the magic that this wand of mine shall work. At present, as these pale cool cheeks attest, you are the Princess Snow White, cold and haughty. But when my wand has worked its magic then behold! you shall be transformed into Princess Rose Red, she of the blushing cheeks.
‘You may say that such magic will not last, that soon you will become Princess Snow White once more. And I cannot gainsay you. But though my magic prove short-lived, there is no shortage of it. Whenever it is needed it will be ready to change you again from Snow White to Rose Red – as often as may be required.
‘And now, Princess,’ said Garth, raising his spatula, ‘let the spell begin!’ So saying, he brought the flat wooden blade down hard on Snow White’s right bottom-cheek, making her cry out as much from surprise as from pain. Never before, in all her eighteen years, had she felt such a burning smart. It was as though a hot iron had seared her flesh. A bright-pink patch sprang out on the flawless whiteness of her cheek. Garth regarded it with pleasure, then with equal vigour imprinted its twin on her other cheek.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Again and again, the spatula’s merciless blade stung the soft flesh of Snow White’s squirming bottom. She shrieked and struggled with wild indignation, kicking her long legs and threatening all manner of retribution.
After a dozen spanks had imprinted their signature on the snowy mounds, Garth paused to admire his handiwork. A warm pink blush now suffused every inch of Snow White’s rearward curves, enhancing their ripe beauty.
The Princess, thinking her punishment was over, tried to rise, but Garth’s strong right arm still held her pinioned over his knee. ‘Oh no, my sweet,’ he said, gently stroking the blade of the spatula across her stinging cheeks, ‘we’re not finished yet. Not by a long way.
‘You have three lessons to learn, young lady, and the first of them is that simply being born your father’s daughter does not allow you to maltreat any creature you like with impunity. Such is your first lesson, my girl, and I hope this spanking will help you remember it. So you may threaten all you wish, my lady, but to no avail. Until I choose to stop, you will find yourself being soundly spanked on your bare bottom, and there’s nothing you can do to prevent it.’
So saying, Garth tightened his grip on the Princess and resumed her punishment. If truth be told, she was not the first young woman he had treated thus. But she was the prettiest – and by far the most deserving of chastisement. So for ten minutes or more he spanked her to his heart’s content.
At first the Princess screamed and threatened, then she wailed and pleaded, and at last she wept and promised to be good, if only he would please, please stop spanking her poor sore burning bottom. But, no matter what she said or did, the spatula mercilessly rose and fell, working its magic to transform her lovely bottom-cheeks from snow white to rose red.
And, while Garth spanked her, he talked to her. Not angrily, but in warm gentle tones, telling her how richly she deserved to be spanked, and how pretty her bottom looked as it blushed and quivered beneath his stinging spanks.
‘You’re not really a bad girl, Snow White,’ he said, never ceasing to smack her roundly. ‘But you are selfish and thoughtless and you’ve been badly spoilt. So spoilt, indeed, that I think you need to be well spanked for many years to come. And whoever has the spanking of you, my sweet, will be a very lucky man.’
And when at last he released her, she fled gasping and sobbing to the refuge of his mother’s bedchamber and lay there face-down on the bed, nursing the fiery throbbing masses of her bottom and shedding hot tears of pain and fury. How dare he? How dare he? The brute! The peasant! That she, the Princess Snow White, whom no man addressed save with respect, whom few dared touch even with their fingertips – that a countrified boor, a goatherd indeed, should dare to – to – to spank her, to thrash her bare bottom with a kitchen implement! It was outrageous! It was treasonable! She, the first lady of the land, had been – the humiliation
of it! – spanked by a goatherd! He would die. She would have him thrown in the deepest dungeon, flogged, tortured, executed! The very next day she would summon the royal guard and this cloddish yokel, who knew no other way to woo a woman than to beat her, should die. Slowly and painfully, while she gloated over his agonies . . .
Hugging this comforting thought to her, Princess Snow White sobbed herself to sleep. Some hours later she woke with a start. It was deep night, but rays of moonlight filtered into the room. She lay there, forgetting for a moment where she was. Then an unaccustomed smarting in her nether regions brought it all back to her. She was in the goatherd’s hut – and he had spanked her!
Yet the feeling of outrage had left her. Her bottom no longer hurt so much. The pain had turned to a tingling warmth, and the Princess was aware of a new sensation: the heat of her young blood coursing in her veins. As if flowing from her spanked rear end, the aroused blood spread its heat, and Snow White, still half-asleep, found her fingers straying to a place not far from her bottom where the warmth needed urgent attention.
Her secret cleft was hot and wet to her touch. As her fingers attended to her needs, an image swam unbidden into her mind: the face of Garth the goatherd, now sleeping but a few feet away. His face as she had seen it, angry and determined, just before he had put her across his knee – and treated her so shamefully.
But perhaps she had to some extent deserved it? The thought surprised her. For the first time in her life the Princess tried to imagine herself in someone else’s shoes. Selfish and spoilt, Garth had called her, even as he smacked her bottom. She saw herself, an absurd figure in that simple hut, putting on airs, demanding attention, slapping his face. Might a spanking not have seemed the apt response to such behaviour?
Snow White moaned quietly, and as her pleasure mounted she relived her punishment. She became two people at once: Snow White, haughty and provocative, and Garth, angry and provoked. She shared his delight as he reddened her bottom with ringing smacks; she felt those smacks, painful yet strangely exciting, sting her defenceless flesh. She was spanker and spanked, Garth and Snow White – and her pleasure swelled, and burst, and flowed through her like the juice of a sun-ripened fruit.
With her cheeks flushed and a smile on her face, Princess Snow White sank into a long dreamless sleep.
When the Princess woke, it was daylight. From outside came the voice of Garth talking to his goats, his tone friendly and cheerful. She found it hard to hate him. For a peasant, he was not bad looking. True, he had spanked her mercilessly; but there were worse things, she mused, than having one’s bottom smacked. She must simply be sure not to deserve it again. That shouldn’t be too difficult.
So that morning Snow White set out with every intention of improving her behaviour. Garth greeted her cheerily and offered her breakfast. The Princess smiled prettily – she could be charming when she chose – and condescended to fetch her food to table with her own fair hands. And when she lowered herself a trifle gingerly on to her chair Garth smiled quietly but made no comment.
The morning passed pleasantly, until Snow White was unwise enough to say that she forgave Garth, if he promised never to do such a thing again.
‘Do you now?’ said Garth. ‘Forgive me for what, pray?’
‘Why, for using me so shamefully, of course!’ snapped the Princess. ‘For daring to spank my – my person!’
‘Your person, my girl, sorely needed spanking,’ retorted Garth. ‘Someone should have done it long ago. As for not doing it again – on the contrary, be sure I shall put you back across my knee and spank you as hard, or harder, whenever you need it.’
Snow White rose with all the hauteur at her command. ‘In that case, fellow, I quit your wretched hut this minute! Take me back to the palace at once!’
‘You may go whenever you like,’ answered Garth, unmoved. ‘But, if you do, you go on your own two feet. I have better things to do than waste time driving you back to the city.’
Snow White stamped in fury, quite forgetting where she was. ‘How dare you!’ she cried. ‘Insolent churl! Do my bidding this instant!’
Garth smiled – a slow lazy smile – and with a sinking feeling in her stomach Snow White realised she knew what that smile meant. ‘Royal commands are not welcome in this house, young lady,’ he said quietly. ‘I told you there were three lessons you must learn. The first was that you cannot mistreat any creature you choose. That I hope you have learned well – with the help of my magic wand.
‘Now we come to the second lesson – that you cannot impose your commands, royal or no, on whomever you wish. I’d hoped you might realise it for yourself. But I fear the effect of my wand is wearing off. It must work its magic on you again, it seems.’
‘No, please! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!’ cried the Princess, backing away.
‘Too late, my girl,’ responded Garth, picking up the spatula and advancing on her. ‘I’m sure you are sorry. But, believe me, your Royal Highness, you’ll soon be even sorrier.’
And indeed she was. A moment later Princess Snow White found herself once again across Garth’s knee, held fast while his strong right arm wielded the spatula in a fusillade of spanks upon her squirming rear.
This, her second spanking, hurt even worse than the first. For as Garth explained, even as he bared her bottom, ‘Yesterday I spanked you only lightly. For I guessed you had never been spanked before, and thought you might learn your lesson from just a single spanking.
‘But it seems you haven’t, even though I’m sure these lovely cheeks are still tender from yesterday’s spanks. Well, young lady, since you need a further lesson, I shall make sure it’s a good one.’
So on that fine summer day the grazing goats listened in mild wonder to the rhythmic succession of ringing smacks that echoed round the little glade, accompanied by the gasps and wails of an increasingly penitent young lady. Inexorably, the spatula rose and fell, and once again the Princess’s snow-white mounds turned pink, then rosy-red, then glowing scarlet beneath its stinging kisses.
In vain did Snow White weep and plead and promise better behaviour. Not until some fivescore resounding spanks had been meted out to each quivering bottom-cheek did Garth release her, taking her in his arms and wiping away her hot tears.
How amazed the courtiers would have been could they have seen their ice-princess now! Her lovely face was flushed – though far less red than her other cheeks – her green eyes were full of tears and she clung to Garth, sobbing piteously.
‘Oh please, please,’ she begged, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Oh my poor bottom, it hurts so much! Please, if I promise to be good, say you’ll never spank me like that again!’
Garth hugged her, stroking her hair. ‘All right,’ he murmured. ‘I promise. I won’t spank you like that again.’ He grinned wickedly. ‘Today.’
Laughing at her wail of fury, he lifted her gently off his lap and laid her face-down on the bed. ‘Wait there a moment, my sweet,’ he said. ‘I have something to make you feel better.’
A moment later he returned with a small wooden pail. Snow White lay where he had left her, the full expanse of her freshly spanked bottom still bared. Its crimson blush contrasted deliciously with the whiteness of her waist and thighs. Garth leant down and planted a soft kiss on each glowing mound. She wriggled at the touch of his lips, a moan of pleasure sounding deep in her throat.
Reaching into the pail, Garth scooped out a handful of fresh cream and slapped a cool dollop on the fiery curves.
‘Ooooh!’ cried Snow White. ‘Aaaah! Oh, that feels so good!’
Garth began gently to massage the cream into her spanked mounds. Snow White squirmed luxuriously, the noise in her throat turning to a sensual purr as the cream soothed her burning flesh.
Garth smoothed the cream down between the rosy buttocks, letting his fingertips stroke lightly over the dark pucker of her anus. Snow White writhed in ecstasy. Reaching round, she grasped Garth’s hand and tried to draw it down between her legs. Once
again the glow of her spanked bottom was transmitting itself elsewhere, and she longed to feel his fingers, all slick and creamy, caressing her most intimate parts.
‘No, my sweet,’ said Garth, gently withdrawing his hand. ‘Not there. Not now. Soon, maybe. But not until I’m released from my promise.’
‘But I want you to!’ wailed Snow White.
‘No doubt. But I can’t. Now be obedient, sweet girl.’
‘Don’t want to be obedient!’ exclaimed the Princess like a petulant five-year-old.
‘I think you had better be,’ said Garth, a note of warning in his voice. ‘Remember – you have three lessons to learn.’
‘But you promised you wouldn’t spank me any more today!’ whimpered Snow White.
‘Nor shall I. But tomorrow is another day.’
As indeed it was – and a beautiful day, too. High summer, the birds singing merrily, the forest in its full green garb. They breakfasted happily together. She fetched and carried for herself and issued no commands. You would have thought her a changed girl.
‘How would you like a ride in the forest?’ asked Garth. ‘We can take food with us.’
‘I would love to!’ cried Snow White excitedly. She might never have been on a picnic in her life. And nor had she, unless an expedition including flunkies bearing trestle tables, tureens of soup, stuffed guinea-fowl, sedan chairs for the ladies, and so forth, can seriously be called a picnic.
‘Good,’ said Garth. ‘I’ll go and harness Jenny. You clear away the breakfast things and wash them.’
Now you may think the Princess slow on the uptake. Surely she would have learnt by now? But she had lived in a palace all her life, giving commands and doing just as she wished. The habits of a lifetime are hard to break in three days.
So, as soon as Garth had left, Snow White pushed the plates aside and gave them no further mind, lost instead in thoughts of how gentle and caring Garth had been after her last spanking. Then she strolled outside to enjoy the sunshine and watch him harness Jenny to the cart.
Having done so, he went back into the hut for the food. A moment later he called, ‘Snow White – here a moment, please.’