Princess Zara's Revenge

INTRODUCTION

Once upon a time, there was a sweet Princess named Zara. Although she had not yet ascended to the royal throne of power within the kingdom, her time would come, and she knew it.

So along with her trusted and faithful maidservant, Hannah, the Princess began to prepare herself for the future. Doing so meant she would have to acquire strength, resolve, courage and wisdom.

As for strength, this had to be multifaceted -- physical, emotional and spiritual. So, Hannah devised a physical exercise regimen for the Princess and a mental game-playing program with the scholars of the kingdom. This was coupled with a reading program that brought all the most magnificent books from the world's great religions and philosophies to her desk and bedside.

Princess Zara was a voracious reader — she couldn't get enough! She read and read and read. Day and night her lovely nose was pressed between printed pages — by daylight and by candlelight she devoured book after book. She learned so much and grew in knowledge and wisdom so quickly, that her father, King Hightower, began inviting her to sit in on royal council meetings, asking her opinion on issues large and small. The wisdom of her answers astounded all who heard her speak.

She was not, however, prepared for the day when Old Greycoat — a tyrant she despised — was hastily ushered into the throne room. 

"What's this about, then?" Greycoat wanted to know, "Are you to scold me again about my chambermaid?"

As Princess Zara watched, King Hightower moved like a storm cloud from his throne, descending the Seven Steps of Jedidiah until he reached Old Greycoat, who began to cower beneath the King's imposing figure. Royal robe and cape billowing, he turned brisk circles around the Viceroy, as if inspecting a young soldier. Eventually, the King slowed to a stop, now standing close behind his despicable servant, leaning in and grabbing Old Greycoat's left earlobe and twisting as he whispered in a guttural, rage-driven voice.

"This, you dirty old bastard, is NOT about some house girl you are molesting. This, you wretched excuse for a magician, THIS is about your exalted fleet of fairies — and one fairy in particular!"

  

Chapter One

The sound, the calling, and the directions sail down from the great Hightower Castle nearly as a melody. She can almost make out the words of this transcendent song as they drift past her tender, sleeping ears, taking root deep inside her young being.

Ellie, Ellie, Ellie,

Dream, Dream, Dream

of all the things

this life can bring.

Laughter, adventure,

delight and pleasure.

Finding your destiny means

chasing after treasure.

Ellie, Ellie, Ellie,

Dream, Dream, Dream

of all the things

this life can bring.

Settled somewhere deep in Ellie's distant memory, she recognizes that it was this very melody which formed her, which brought her to life, and now, though it feels strangely far away and at the same time oddly nearby, it is directing her steps, as she is tip-toeing bare-footed through a great, wondrous forest, looking for the answers to questions she has yet to ask. As the cool earth underfoot soothes her heart and the breeze rustling through the trees calms her spirit, she listens as the wind whispers words to her soul — words which sound like love.

Then, as she finds her way in the moonlight, Ellie inhales a scent that makes her mind fully alert and her heart jump. It is the scent of her mate. Her mate is nearby! Her mouth begins to water and her heart begins to pound as Ellie thinks, anticipates and yearns after the sound of her mate's voice in her ear and the touch of their fingers on her skin.

When? Where? How will it happen? She wonders at what moment in her life her mate will appear, pushing their way into her heart, welcoming her to fall like flowing water into their embrace, quaking, shivering breathlessly, contemplating what is to come.

Almost delirious from the anticipation, Ellie gives in to her need for sleep and ends her trek for the day, the forest pathway having become confused and a bit frightening in the shadows. She decides to rest for a moment in a hidden deep green glen, where tree branches bend down to cover her as leafy blankets. Her eyes close and she drift off to sleep.

Dreams which come during slumber in a dark forest night are far different from those imagined in the warmth and safety of her bed at home. In the cool of the moonlit glen, a wandering, slithering emerald and amber mist approaches the place where Ellie lay, wrapping her in its mysterious vapor, enveloping her in a dark embrace that leads her mind to conjure things that are secret and forbidden. Though sleeping peacefully, her dreamed lover is wide awake, panting his hot breath to the nape of Ellie's neck. Slowly, inch by skin-touching inch, the animal's intense breathing comes to her cheek and then to her lips. Ellie stirs with dark arousal. This dream, this forest, this breathing — all of it has Ellie in a place which Sprites recognize as dangerous.

Sprites, as you may know, are tiny Hightower-directed glowing beings that descend to watch over your sleeping body. Their sunlight-tinted, translucent wings fluttering mere centimeters from your face, are a Sprite strategy for determining if they can safely touch you without waking you.

The fanning of her Sprite's wings so close to Ellie's face cause an ever so soft breeze which, instead of waking her, soothingly and gently rids her of the dangerous, animistic dream and fans her instead to a deeper and safer place to sleep.

“Ellie?” the Sprite whispers into her ear. But her human does not stir.

Believing she is able to transform undetected, the Sprite holds her breath and calls on her long-passed grandmother for the power to become visible.

Anna-of-Olde, grandmother,

bring me from vapor to fore,

bring forth sinew and other,

make my fairy mist no more.

And, no sooner than these words are uttered, than the tiny, nearly invisible Sprite bursts to life as a fully-visible, full-sized, near-human, seated next to Ellie.

Of course, Sprites wear no clothes, so when transformed, she is naked — but not in the scandalous human way — instead in a very natural, almost angelic, beautiful way. And with the gentleness Sprites are known for, she scoops Ellie into her arms and wraps her in warmth and protection from the damp night forest air and from dangers as yet, unseen.

And, it is a good thing too, because this forest is not safe. It is not safe at all. Besides the dark magical creatures lurking about, there are prowling nocturnal inhabitants — ravenous amber-eyed wolves, that hunt all the night through for tender, young, tasty morsels such as Ellie.

Thankfully, she has her Sprite’s protection until dawn. So sleep Ellie, sleep. And dream. Dream of all the things this life can bring.

Chapter Two

Ellie stirred ever so slightly in the early-morning predawn mist, shifting her position to relieve the soreness in her hips that comes from laying in one position for too long. She felt a surprising sense of warmth and comfort, especially given where she had laid down to sleep. Before she opened her eyes she imagined that she was being held by her mother as a much younger child. This reassurance and solace allowed Ellie to drift off peacefully for a few extra delicious moments of sleep.

When golden shafts of early morning sunlight began to spread over the forest floor and poke gently at Ellie’s eyelids, she gradually began to awaken. Opening one eye to see where she was, she recognized the flesh of another person wrapped around her body.

Pressed against her jacket she recognized a pair of bare breasts. At first she wondered if they belonged to her mother. But no. They could not be. Her mother’s were fuller, rounder and had begun the gradual sloping common to middle age. No, these were the slight curves of a developing teenage girl not too much older than herself. The nipples reminded her of her own, firm, perfectly rounded and pointed outward with pinkish tips that were hardened from the cool morning air.

A logical question entered Ellie’s mind. “Why am I being held by a naked girl in the middle of the forest? Who is this girl?” Before she could consider the possible answers for more than a moment, the naked blanket draped around her stirred slightly, moving a bit away from Ellie’s body, revealing a slender belly and no belly button.

To view a naked teen girl next to her was strange enough but then to discover she had no navel was beyond strange! Ellie allowed her eyes to drift southward to the place where the girl's thighs joined her torso. Where Ellie expected to see a bit of peach fuzz and girl parts like her own, she saw instead nothing but a rounded curve of flesh which wrapped beneath her body and out of sight.

With a great shuddering shake and a loud gasp, the naked one awakened showing wide-open phosphorescent turquoise-green eyes looking directly into Ellie’s!

After a quick poof and a bright flash, the naked thing disappeared, leaving only a tiny trail of starlit fairy dust and the flutter of tiny wings scampering hurriedly through the morning forest air.

“Great King Hightower! That was the strangest dream I have ever had!” exclaimed Ellie, stretching and squinting in the morning sunlight which had come piercing over the horizon, already beginning to warm the place where she sat upright.

It was time to get up, she thought. After finding a place to pee, Ellie began walking again through the forest, hoping as she did, that perhaps today she could meet her mate.

Her mate, Ellie reminded herself, needed her. For it was she that carried her family's kemia, the charm that promised to unlock the gate surrounding their future garden. This Eden-like property had been set aside for the two of them. It was a place where, once married, they could live together happily and perhaps have a family. Ellie smiled to herself as these thoughts gave rise to little bits of gooseflesh all over her body.

Ellie was hopeful, excited and happy for this new day, for this new adventure. You are doing it! she whispered to herself, taking, she thought, one step closer to her mate’s arms, their voice, their touch, their body — and their togetherness in future garden.

Chapter Three

The Sprite looked down on Ellie from a treetop. Still shaking and panting from having been discovered in her near-human form. She feared her foolishness would be made known to the highest levels of the Fairy Kingdom. The forest has eyes — eyes that had probably watched her change form; eyes that saw her close contact with a human, hugging and warming Ellie through the night. “What was I to do?” the Sprite argued with herself, “the poor girl would have frozen to death! And we are always to serve and protect humans when we can.”

“Yes, but,” she countered her own argument, “we are not to be so careless and stupid as to be caught doing it!”

She imagined herself being dragged by her wings into the Fairy Counsel chambers to face Old Greycoat himself, who would, undoubtedly, have her in tears as he berated her foolishness.

“Wynken Butterhaven, how in the name of all that is sacred in the Fairy Kingdom could you allow yourself to be seen au naturale holding that human girl in your arms? Did you not learn anything at Flight School? Do you know what it means when humans report another sighting? Well do you?”

“Yes sir,” she could hear herself whisper.

“What did you say?” Old Greycoat would demand.

“I said, yes sir.”

“Yes sir, what?”

“Yes sir, it means the humans will send out more search parties, until . . .”

“Hey Wynk! Whose the stinky one?” Billy startled her so badly she nearly fell out of the tree branch.

“Why do have to do that?” said Wynk, giving Billy a push at his bare shoulder.

“Do what?” Billy sounded offended.

“Scaring the fairy dust out of me when I’m deep in thought, that’s what! And she’s not stinky!”

“Well, she’s a human isn’t she?” Billy scowled.

“Her name is Ellie and she’s carrying a —” Wynk caught herself before she said any more. The less blabbermouth Billy knew about this whole affair, the better.

Ellie was getting further and further out of Wynk’s sight as she walked deliberately to the North. Billy was a nuisance and a distraction. Worse yet, he was nosy, which was something Wynk detested about him. Wynk's Grandmother had always said, “Fairies who put their noses where they don’t belong deserve to have those noses put out of joint!” Wynk was sorely tempted to fly Billy into a tree trunk just so he would have his pride hurt enough to leave her alone.

Thankfully, Billy’s tummy growled loudly enough to embarrass him and send him flitting off in search of a fresh supply of Rhododendron nectar. “Good riddance!” Wynk waved at Billy’s behind as he flew away.

Now Wynk could get back to the business at hand, protecting Ellie. But where is she? Wynk flew as fast as she could in the direction she thought her human had gone, but couldn’t catch sight of her. “Stupid Billy!” Wynk muttered to herself as she began feeling more and more panicky at the thought of losing Ellie.

Losing her human would be worse even that being seen by a human! If anything happened to Ellie it would be Wynk’s fault and that would be the end of her. She would have committed the worst violation of all — allowing your human to fall into danger while you are on duty. Such a serious offense would mean Wynk would lose her wings.

Chapter Four

The sounds of playing children caught Ellie's ear, unconsciously veering her off course, leaving behind the proper North-bound path for, instead, the siren-song of other human voices. The sounds of laughter and yelling in games of race and tag instantly painted a broad grin across Ellie's face and brought new buoyancy and speed to her step.

Her bare feet were used to the rough trail and so skipping or running no longer brought pain to her feet. But, brambles were an altogether different thing as they sent sharp, shooting pains when underfoot and caused horrid, bloody scratches on her arms and legs. Perhaps, she thought, she could cope with the bleeding but the bushes tore at the fabric of her dress as well, so when she arrived by the playing children she was such a mess that the schoolyard fell deadly silent at the sight of her.

Ellie found herself surrounded. Twenty pairs of great peering eyes and a hundred probing fingers brought tears to Ellie's eyes. They touched and pawed at her body and dress, murmuring dark sounds of disapproval and contempt.

Once the prodding, poking and probing was done, all the girls stood with their hips back and their young chests out making their prideful appearance all the more overwhelming. They were looking at Ellie with such judgement in their eyes it made her want to run away. Although each girl was an adolescent, the garish makeup they wore fashioned them to look as much older women with rosy blushed cheeks and scarlet red lipstick; and each was dressed in expensive, colorful lacy party dresses with large satin bows adorning their perfectly curled hair. Compared to them, Ellie looked like a dirty, homeless urchin.

Two of the girls, one with blond curls and the other with jet-black pigtails stood back from the rest of the hoard, whispering something about Ellie to each other, their critical eyes making repeated sweeps up and down her body, landing momentarily each time on her chest, her hips and, of course, finally, on her bleeding legs and bare feet. At last, the two came and took Ellie by her arms and whisked her away from the staring eyes of the rest of the children.

"You poor, poor thing," said the blond girl.

"Yes," came the screechy voice of the pig-tailed girl in mocking tones, "you poor, poor girl."

Up the schoolhouse steps they led her, entering the vintage red wooden building just beneath the bell tower and a sign which read, Miss Principal's Beauty School for Young Ladies. The trio scurried down a hallway and through a door marked, Convenience.

"Here," came the commanding voice of the blonde as her fingers twirled Ellie around and began unbuttoning her dress at he back. "We must make you more presentable if you are going to join us!"

"You can't be seen looking like that," said the black-haired girl, dabbing a cold, damp cloth on Ellie's broken and bleeding skin.

The blond made Ellie step out of her dress and underthings so that she stood naked before both the girls. The two stood back and looked at Ellie, their hands to their chins as if they were artists trying to decide if they should do Ellie in charcoal or watercolor.

"I - I'm cold," Ellie shivered, trying to use her arms and hands to cover herself in modesty.

"Awww, the poor girl is cold," said the two girls in near unison.

"We'll just have to get something for you to wear."

"Oh, that would be very nice," Ellie chirped, "that would very nice indeed!"

"Indeed!" laughed the blond and the pig-tailed girl, nearly doubling over from whatever humor they seemed to have found in Ellie's distressed state.

"Alright, close your eyes," crowed the blond.

"Yes! Keep them tight shut and we'll give you a wonderful surprise!"

Ellie tried to take hope in their words but somehow knew the surprise wouldn't be any nicer than these girls seemed to be. She heard the snipping of scissors, embarrassing giggles at her naked and shivering body. There were repeated dire warnings to keep those eyes closed! Finally, Ellie felt something horribly itchy and rough being placed over her head and her hands being poked through arm-openings in the fabric.

"There!" announced the blond.

"Ta-DA!" sang the pig-tailed girl. "Open your eyes!"

Ellie was positioned in front of a mirror, the reflection of which showed that she was now dressed in a burlap potato sack.

"This is what we all wore on our first day!" the blond tried to reassure her.

"That's right! Everyone will understand," promised the black-haired, pig-tailed girl. "Come on!"

The breeze between her legs frightened Ellie. She was wearing a potato sack and nothing else. To make matters worse, it was cut above mid-thigh, so it was would going to be impossible to sit or stand with modesty. She wanted to run but she couldn't. Her dressmakers had her by the arms again, escorting her into the classroom.

Gales of raucous laughter greeted Ellie's appearance. Each girl in the class was laughing and pointing at the spectacle of a poor girl in a burlap bag. Ellie looked quickly around the room for a teacher who might rescue her from this torture, but even the tall, stern-looking woman seemed to be enjoying Ellie's sorry predicament.

When the two girls plunked Ellie down at a desk, she struggled to cover herself, red-faced, mortified and deeply regretting stepping off the Northward path only to end up here.

As the chorus of laughing voices faded, the schoolmarm's voice reached across the room.

"May we ask your name, young lady?"

"Um," came a whisper from her dry and trembling lips.

"Sit up straight! Speak up!" the teacher's voice shot.

"My name is . . . "

"Louder! Louder please!"

"Ahem," Ellie cleared her throat and tried to find her voice. "My name is Ellie."

"I see," said the teacher, "Ellie what?"

"Ellie Tortellini," came her quiet reply.

Again the room broke into uncontrolled laughter. Ellie put her head down on her desk and cried.

Chapter Five

Halflong was afraid to knock even when there was good news. The imposing wood-beamed and black steel door to Old Greycoat's chambers easily stretched upward many times Halflong's size, further dwarfing him and enlarging his deep feelings of fear and inadequacy. Closing his eyes and raising his fist to knock, Halflong hoped he wouldn't be heard.

Halflong hoped that if he could tap the door timidly enough, Old Greycoat would sleep through the interruption allowing Halflong's hasty retreat. Then, he could then proudly say he had given his assignment some good (if ineffective) effort with the side benefit of having spent the least possible time anywhere in the vicinity of the hated Old Greycoat, Eternal Viceroy of the Kingdom's Fairy Flight School.

But it wasn't to be. Before Halflong could begin his halfhearted knocking, the giant entrance way creaked and groaned wide open, leaving him standing there directly in the exit path of a disheveled Princess Zara Hightower — the one and only heir to the throne.

Attempting to step out of her way, Halflong skittered to his right just as the Princess made precisely the same move. Nervous and embarrassed, Halflong moved left — and, just as he did, the Princess stepped in the same direction.

Princess Zara put a quick end to the frustrating face-off by kicking the mole-like Halflong out of her way, sending him rolling down the hall as she stomped off in the opposite direction sputtering angry words about the arrogance of men and how they think they are entitled to everything.

What could be worse than this? Halflong wondered, picking himself up and heading back for the open doorway. It was a perfect storm of fairy dirt. He was bringing cranky Old Greycoat the bad news that he had been summoned to Lord Hightower's throne room on the heels of an angry Princess Zara's departure.

Halflong was quaking as he stepped into Old Greycoat's dark, cavernous chamber, expecting any moment to hear bellows of horrid words being spewed in his direction. But there wasn't a sound. There was only a thin blue-grey cloud of pipe smoke drifting up above Old Greycoat's easy chair, dancing in soft, lazy helix patterns above where Halflong supposed Old Greycoat was sitting.

Halflong decided it was best to get this over with sooner rather than later and so began to form on his lips the first syllable of his opening words, "Your greatness, Eternal Viceroy Greycoat . . ." but none of these words had the chance to leave his mouth. Somehow, Old Greycoat sensed Halflong's presence behind him and spoke first.

"Would you be kind enough to close the door, Halflong?" The words were spoken so quietly and sweetly and in such decidedly UN-Old-Grey coat-like tones, that hearing them made Halflong wonder who it was other than the Viceroy that had taken up the honor of sitting in the overstuffed chair.

After doing as he was asked, Halflong once again approached the chair with the golden Fairy Flight School emblem emblazoned on the rear of its back support. Halflong was half expecting to find some pleasant stranger or a court comic seated there, ready to announce in a loud laughing voice that some kind of grand prank had been pulled over on him. Rounding the corner of the chair arms and looking up, Halflong was not at all relieved to recognized the craggy, weathered old face of the Viceroy, longpipe in hand and a very pleased and relaxed look on his face.

"Dear fellow, be a good man and retrieve my robe from the bed, won't you?"

Halflong couldn't believe his ears. Never before in this century, (nor in any other for that matter), had Old Greycoat referred to him as a dear fellow! Again he did as he was told and brought the robe. Only then did he recognize that the Viceroy was sprawled out on his easy chair and footstool without so much as a stitch of clothing on him, requiring of course, that Halflong quickly avert his eyes and study each tiny detail of the stone floor at his feet.

"Beautiful day, isn't it Halflong?"

Halflong wasn't quite sure if the question was rhetorical and fumbled to utter a stuttered,

"Um, y-yes, b-beautiful, sir."

"Did you notice Princess Zara leaving my chambers as you entered?"

"Y-yes, your greatness, I did."

"And isn't she a vision of loveliness?"

Halflong fell silent. Offering an opinion on the physical characteristics of the Virgin Princess was far, far above his station. And even if it were not, speaking about her in this way was simply something Halflong could not bring himself to do. She was, after all, the young Princess of the Kingdom and heir to the throne.

Further, in her teens and very beautiful to behold, the Princess represented everything good about the future of Hightower. She was perfectly suited to lead the Kingdom, Halflong thought, with all the traits one would want of a Queen, purity, grace, wisdom and fresh ways of thinking that would help make the kingdom safe against it's enemies.

Regardless of what he thought of her, Halflong knew his silence on the matter was expected.

As Old Greycoat stretched and moaned and climbed into his robe he continued his vulgar comments about Princess Zara's particular charms, commenting on her anatomy in ways which began to make Halflong feel ill. Old Greycoat spoke of the Princess as an object; as a trophy to boast about; as a possession to control, touch and enjoy. Halflong found each such syllable completely revolting. 

These weren't comments to make about a Princess! These were the comments made about poor Farthing Girls who needed to eek out a living by lowering themselves to be with men who lacked decency. Halflong shuddered trying to rid his mind of the image which had appeared — that of Princess Zara and Old Greycoat in some kind of intimate embrace. The thought left him reeling and sick to his stomach.

The Viceroy put down his longpipe and faced Halflong squarely. "And what brings you to see me this fine day?"

"Your greatness," Halflong began, "you have been summoned to appear before Lord Hightower at Noon today."

Old Greycoat turned his back on Halflong and let loose a blistering bellow that shook the rafters, "Leave me!"

Chapter Six

Wynk was streaking across the forest at full speed, desperately searching for her human when a glint of crimson red caught her eye. Blood? She wondered. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. If my human is dead, so am I!

Wynk followed the trail which led to the schoolyard and, ultimately to the old red schoolhouse. She alighted on a window sill and peered inside.  

"Students," the teacher called, "open your books to the test questions at the end of Chapter twelve."

Ellie lifted her head off her desk and dried her tears with her hands. If there was actually something to be learned in this perfectly awful classroom, she thought, perhaps it would make up for about one-percent of the humiliation she had endured today.

"I hope you studied this chapter carefully because I am going to make this an oral test," to which all the girls in the class cheered. Not the reaction I would have, Ellie muttered to herself.

"And, Miss-take, oh, I mean, Miss Tortellini, would you come up front please? You should be able to answer these pretty easily."

"W-What?" Ellie mouthed in shock. The last thing she wanted to do was stand in front of this cackling class of witchy girls dressed in a short-cut potato sack trying to fake her way through questions she hadn't studied for!

"Come on, come on pokie-girl! While we're still young please!"

"Miss-take! Mis-take! Mis-take!" chanted the children mocking Ellie until she gave in to the pressure and made her way to the front of the classroom, pulling the potato sack down to cover her rear as she walked.

Wynk was horrified watching her human in such a terrible predicament, and she was powerless to help her!

"Step up here please," the teacher instructed, pointing to a small stage on which there was a podium. Further mortified, Ellie not only had to stand in front of the class, she had to stand three steps up, elevated in front of the class! The girls closest to her in the front row were whispering and laughing with each other, pointing at the hem of her make-shift dress, intensifying the modesty issue which was already making Ellie's cheeks a bright shade of red.

"Question one is multiple choice," proclaimed the schoolmarm.

Oh good, Ellie thought to herself, at least I might have a chance getting this one right!

"Alright Miss Tortellini Potato Sack," the teacher began, "The first question is as follows. Which is the best way to compliment another girl whom you don't care for very much? Is it to tell her, 'A. You look perfectly awful today, you should go crawl in a hole somewhere and die!' or "B. You must think you are among peers dressing that way!' or, finally, is it 'C. How nice you look today.'"

"Oh, that's an easy one," Ellie smiled, "of course the answer is 'C. How nice you look today.'"

The teacher and every girl in the classroom broke out into gales of horrid laughter at Ellie's answer, making her stare down at her bare feet, a fresh set of tears beginning to form in her eyes, ready to crest and overflow down her cheeks.

"You must not of been listening young lady," the teacher snarled, "I distinctly recall indicating that this was a way to compliment a girl you don't care very much for, didn't I?"

"Yes Ma'am," Ellie replied, "but answers A and B are both perfectly awful things to say to another person. They would hurt their feeling horribly! And besides," Ellie continued, finding a brave voice welling up from within her, "the way all of you have treated me has been just as bad! You've poked at me, laughed at me, made me wear this sickening old potato sack and now you've made me stand up here like I'm some kind of freak!"

At that, all the girls in the room stood to their feet and began shouting, You ARE a freak! Spank her! Spank her! Spank her!

Before she could run, she felt the teacher's hands clawing for her, pulling her back up the stage steps, dragging her toward a chair.

Spank her! Spank her! Spank her! rang in Ellie's ears as she kicked and fought against this evil woman. But it was no use, the teacher was bigger and stronger. In a moment the woman had sat down in the chair and had dragged Ellie's flailing body over her lap. Several girls grabbed and steadied Ellie's arms and legs so the teacher could apply the punishment.

Ellie sobbed as the teacher pulled back her potato sack and prepared to spank Ellie's bare backside.

The chant intensified, Spank her! Spank her! Spank her!

Wynk shuddered and closed her eyes. She couldn't watch her human endure this.