The tavern (M/F story)

It was a warm summer day in the fifth year of the reign of King Parson. I had only recently become a squire, but I had been entrusted with a rather large sum of money that my lord wanted me to deliver to the king as a tribute. We had decided that a large escort would only draw attention and entice robbers or other lords that would attempt to rob us. A single squire on his own would be unlikely to draw anyone's attention, and I would be armed and high-ranking enough to stop any commoner from starting trouble. At any rate, entrusting me with the money was a sign of trust from my lord, and I was eager to prove myself worthy of his trust.
 
A few days into my journey, I stopped at a small tavern near the road. There were a few people at the tavern – some locals and some other travellers – but the serving girl seemed more interested in sitting down and chatting with her friends, or with gazing at the young male travellers, than in performing her duties. She also seemed to have an uncommonly sharp tongue for a serving girl.
 
The owner of the tavern was Amanda, a blonde woman a few years older than me. We started to chat, and she asked me what I thought about the place.
 
"It is a fine place, but I think your staff is inefficient," I said, nodding towards the tall, blonde, slim serving girl.
 
"Ah. My daughter Leanora," she told me. "Yes, she's a headstrong girl."
 
"She could do with a good thrashing," I told her frankly. "The girl seems lazy and rude."She nodded. "It was my late husband who dealt with matters of discipline in the household, and it seems that she's forgotten all his lessons. But don't you think she's a bit old? She turned nineteen this spring."
 
"In my opinion, no girl is ever too old for a spanking if her behaviour warrants it."
 
"I don't think I could drag her across my knee if I tried. She's too strong for me." We chatted about other things for a while, but she had a thoughtful look on her face. Finally, she seemed to make up her mind. "Would you be willing to do it for me? Give her a thrashing, I mean."
 
I looked at her. "Are you sure?"
 
She nodded. "I think a man's firm hand might be exactly what that girl needs. And a well-spoken squire would be just the man to teach her to mind her manners."
 
That evening, when the locals had left the tavern, Amanda sent her daughter to knock on the door to my room. The girl gave me a defiant stare as I opened the door.
 
"Has your mother told you what is going to happen?" I asked.
 
"Yes." She practically spat the word at me.
 
"Given the situation, I think you should address me as 'sir', so that should be 'yes, sir'. Keep that in mind. Now, what has she told you?" I wanted there to be no misunderstandings.
 
The girl glared at me. "She said you're going to spank me," she said, a blush spreading across her cheeks.
 
I nodded. "She tells me you've been lazy and rude and not giving her the assistance she needs in running this tavern. There are only the two of you, so she cannot have you constantly sitting down on the job." I allowed myself a slight smile. "Well, I can promise you that this won't be a problem for some time."
 
I grabbed her arm and led her over to the bed. As I sat down and began to pull her over my lap, she resisted, trying to escape from my grip. I think the prospect had seemed too unreal to her up to that point. But she struggled in vain, for I easily dragged the girl across my knee and held her in place.
 
"You are not getting away, so you might as well stop struggling," I told her as I swatted the seat of her dress.
 
"Ouch! That hurts!" she said, almost growling at me.
 
"First of all, that's 'That hurts, sir,'" I reminded her. "If you get it wrong one more time, you are going to regret it. Secondly, that's the entire point, girl. If it didn't hurt, it wouldn't be effective, would it? In fact," I said as I grabbed the hem of her dress and began to raise it, "I think it would be even more effective without this thick dress in the way."
 
She kicked her legs and tried to get up, but I wrapped my left leg around hers and used my left hand to hold her in place. Her white underwear was soon revealed to my gaze. As my hand continued to smack her backside, she yelled and struggled, furious at this affront to her person. But I ignored her and continued to spank – she certainly deserved everything she'd gotten and far more, and I had her mother's blessing.
 
After a few minutes, the girl's yells slowly turned into pained cries, and I decided it was time for the real spanking to begin. I grabbed her underwear and began to lower it. The girl pleaded for me to leave it in place.
 
"All proper spankings are given on the bare bottom, girl," I told her sternly. "Did your father ever spank you on your underthings?"
 
Thinking quickly, the girl blurted out, "Yes! Yes, he did. Every spanking was given on my underwear, and that's a fact. So why don't you pull those back up?"
 
I chuckled. "You are a poor liar, girl, and you will regret trying to fool me. And you're still not calling me 'sir'."
 
"No, sir, I'm sorry, sir. Will you please stop spanking me, sir?"
 
I nodded. "That's better. And the answer is 'not yet'," I said as I continued the spanking on her now-bare rear.
 
The girl howled as my firm hand paddled her once-pale posterior a brilliant pink, and then began to turn it red. When I allowed her to stand up, her hands flew back to rub the sting from her backside, and she hopped from foot to foot. It was a lovely sight to see the haughty girl reduced to a crying child. But I was not finished with her.
 
"If you had addressed me properly like I asked you, and not tried to lie to me, I might have ended your punishment here," I told her. "But since you didn't, I'm afraid we're not quite done."
 
She stared at me, her eyes wide with fear. I pointed to the other end of the room, where my belt was hanging on a peg on the wall. "Fetch me that belt."
 
She stared at the belt, then at me. "Please, sir! Don't do it! I'll be good, I promise!"
 
"Oh? You'll do everything you're told from now on?"
 
She nodded. "Believe me, sir, I will do anything you ask of me!"
 
"I'm glad to hear it. Fetch me that belt, then."
 
The pale look on her face told me that she realized that she was trapped, so she slowly made her way over to the wall, grabbed the belt, and slowly made her way back. She pleaded with her eyes as she handed it to me.
 
I placed my pillow in the centre of the bed. "Lie down on the bed with the pillow under your backside," I told her. "I want it raised to meet the belt."
 
Still looking at me with the most teary-eyed expression she could muster, the girl obeyed my command. I adjusted her position to make sure her bottom stuck up the way I wanted, and tapped the belt against my hand.
 
"I think we'll say four strokes for lying, and four strokes for forgetting how to address me," I said. "I want you to count each stroke out loud. Is that understood?"
 
"Yes, sir," the girl said. She quivered in fear, giving her backside a delightful shiver.
 
The first stroke rang out, accompanied by a yell of pain. Fresh tears began to flow.

"Don't forget to count," I chided her.
 
"One, sir."
 
"If I have to remind you again, I will repeat the stroke." I lifted the belt and strapped her again.
 
"Aaah! Two, sir," the girl yelped.
 
Two crimson lines stood out against the bright red backside. I aimed the third stroke lower down, covering the lower part of her backside. She would certainly feel this every time she tried to sit down for a few days.
 
"Oooh! Three, sir!"
 
 
I was pleasantly surprised that the girl held her composure as well as she did. The fourth stroke landed further up her bottom, just between the first and second.
 
She hissed in pain, squirming from side to side to relieve the pain. I was about to remind her about the counting when she hissed out "Four, sir!"
 
The fifth and sixth strokes were a bit lighter than the previous. The girl seemed to be learning her lesson, and I didn't want to push her too far. She squealed, but counted as clearly as she could.
 
For the seventh stroke, I aimed the belt crosswise, so that it went from the lower-right part of her bottom to the upper left. This meant that it crossed the path of every stroke so far, and the girl arched her back in pain. "Seven, sir," she sobbed.
 
The girl began to blubber as I raised the belt; she had guessed my intentions. The eighth and final stroke went from the upper-right part of her backside to the lower left, so that she had a cross of darker lines on top of the first six. She howled, but managed to shout "Eight, sir," through the tears.
 
I helped the girl up and hugged her tightly, whispering soothing words into her ear, telling her that she had been very brave and that her punishment was now over. I carried her to her own room, sat down on the bed, and placed her on my lap, letting her cry into my shirt as I gently rubbed some of the sting away.
 
The girl fell asleep in my lap, and I laid her down on the bed. On my way back to my own quarters, I met the girl's mother emerging from her room. She looked a bit pale.
 
"So, she's been punished, then?" she asked. I nodded.
 
"I think you'll see a marked improvement in her behaviour from now on," I told her. The woman seemed nervous and uncomfortable, but that wasn't too surprising to me. A lot of women didn't like to hear their dear daughters' discipline.
 
The next day, at breakfast, I noted with satisfaction that Leanora seemed to work a lot harder and was a lot nicer to her customers than the previous night. At one point, I saw her look wistfully towards a chair near her friends, but she gave her backside a quick rub and thought better of it. She treated me with respect, but I had a distinct feeling that she wouldn't be too upset when I left.
 
I walked out to the stable to have a look at my horse. It seemed to have been well treated, and I went back to my room to look at the saddle bags that I had placed under the bed. The saddle bags contained the riches that I was transporting.
 
I opened the first saddlebag, and the money shone as beautifully as ever. I opened the second, and was shocked to find the gold replaced by rocks. A pit grew in my stomach as I realized that I had been robbed. My lord's gold was gone, proving that his trust in me had been misplaced.
 
I frantically scanned through my memories of the previous night, trying to find anyone who looked suspicious enough to earn an investigation. And my thoughts returned to my late-night run-in with Amanda. She'd been pale, but now that I thought about it, she hadn't actually looked all that concerned. More… guilty.
 
The woman was in the tavern's kitchen, so I decided to go up to her room and have a look around. Sure enough, under her bed, I found a familiar-looking pile of coins. I had gathered up the coins when I suddenly heard a gasp behind me. Amanda was staring at me.
 
"You hoped I would be long gone before I realized I'd been robbed, didn't you?" I asked her, my voice growing cold and threatening.
 
"I didn't… it wasn't…" She stammered.
 
"I wonder what the guards will say to this?"
 
"No!" she rushed forward, grabbed my hand and staring pleadingly at me. "After you'd disciplined my daughter, I entered your room to hear how it went, and found the saddle bags. I am a widow running a run-down tavern, with only a lazy daughter to aid me, and you had so much of it…"
 
"My lord's money, not mine," I told her. "You've not only dishonoured yourself, you made me break my lord's trust in me." She still looked pleadingly at me, and I was struck by how much she looked like her daughter.
 
"You know," I said, "Maybe the guards don't need to be involved." She stared at me, not quite daring to believe it would let her off. "Maybe what you really need is a good thrashing."
 
She took a step back, grabbing her bottom with both hands. "You wouldn't! I'm a grown woman!"
 
"As I told you yesterday, Amanda, I believe that no girl is ever too old for a spanking if her behaviour warrants it." I closed the distance between us and grabbed her shoulder. "And yours certainly does."
 
I had walked over to the bed, sat down, and dragged her over my lap before the stunned woman was able to react. But when I raised her dress and my firm palm made contact with the seat of her underwear, she yelped.
 
"Ouch! Stop this!"
 
"It's either a good spanking, or I fetch the guards," I said, as I continued to spank her soundly. Amanda yelled, kicking her legs as she tried to escape from my firm hand, but I locked her in place the same way I'd held her struggling daughter, with my left leg around hers and my left arm in her back.
 
Suddenly, we heard a shocked voice exclaiming "Mother! What's going on?" Leanora stared wide-eyed at the scene in front of her.
 
"Your mother has stolen gold from my saddle-bags," I explained calmly. "I thought this was better than calling the guards."
 
"Ouch! Get out of here, Leanora", Amanda yelled.
 
The girl turned to leave, but I stopped her. "You can stay if you want," I told her. "You might learn something."
 
Amanda opened her mouth to protest, but I silenced her with a long and hard series of smacks to her sit spots. "You are not in a position to make demands," I told her.
 
"Um. Sir?" Leanora said, an impish look on her face. "I thought you said that all proper spankings are given on the bare bottom," she said, trying to hide a grin.
 
"That's right," I said, and I grabbed Amanda's underwear. The woman howled indignantly, but this quickly turned into sobs as my hand continued its assault. Her bottom was now turning red, and I decided it was time to introduce her to the final part of the punishment.
 
"Leanora? I believe you know where I keep my belt? Could you go fetch it, please?"
 
The girl grinned, running off to fetch the implement with far more enthusiasm than the last time I'd asked her to retrieve it. While I waited, I continued to spank the weeping thief. When Leanora returned, eyes shining brightly as she presented the belt to me, I told Amanda to stand up. She rose, hands flying back to rub her stinging bottom, when she spotted the belt.
 
"You… you're not going to..." she stared pleadingly at me.
 
"Indeed I am," I said as I placed the pillow in the middle of the bed. "Lay down on the bed with your backside over the pillow. I want it raised up for when the belt lands."
 
A few hard smacks with my hand quickly convinced her to do as she was told, and I raised the belt. Unlike the night before, I wasn't going to deliver a set number – I was going to strap her until I believed she'd learned her lesson.
 
I gave her a few hard straps, causing her to howl and kick her legs, but she soon reached her hands back to protect her posterior. I ordered her to remove her hands, and she finally complied, but at the very next stroke, she shielded her cheeks again.
 
"Leanora? Could you hold your mother's hands and stop her from interfering with her punishment until I'm done?" I asked. The girl eagerly stepped forward and did as I commanded. Amanda pleaded with her daughter to help her, but I don't think she received a lot of sympathy. On the contrary, Leanora was quite entertained by the spectacle.
 
By the end of it, Amanda's bottom was fiery crimson in colour, and she was howling like a banshee. Deciding that she'd been punished enough, I helped her up. I sat down on the bed and let the woman weep into my shirt, like I'd done for her daughter the night before. When I looked up, Leanora had gone – the show was over.
 
I left the tavern a few hours later, after checking that every coin was where it was supposed to be. As I rode on, I decided that I might check in on the tavern on my way home as well.