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The iPhone of Queen Susan

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"Queen Susan."

Susan looks up from her iPhone to see Peter standing in the threshold of the door of the bedroom she shares with Lucy. His face is unreadable, but when he calls her by her royal title outside Narnia, it usually means she's going to be spanked. "Yes, High King Peter?" she responds, as she can't not acknowledge him with like respect. At least not if she doesn't want to be spanked.

Peter crosses the room and sits down next to her on the bed. "What are you doing?" he asks. Gently, but there's a sternness behind it which sets her heart beating faster. Involuntarily, she sits up straighter.

"Just texting Melissa," Susan answers honestly. There's nothing wrong with that, right?

"About your English paper you have due Thursday, I presume?" Peter asks.

Oh, right. Busted. "Not exactly."

Peter nods. "Do you mind if I take a look?" he asks.

Reluctantly, she surrenders the iPhone to Peter. He takes a minute reading her conversation with Melissa (she really needs to be quicker about emptying her inbox), then puts the phone down on the bed between them.

"Queen Lucy," he says at last, "would you close the door?"

Lucy, who's been doing her homework on her side of the room, quickly gets up and closes the door, shutting the three of them inside with privacy. "Stand up," Peter tells Susan.

She does so, expecting the further command to remove her clothing; Peter always insists on her being completely naked while being punished, rather than just the traitional jeans-and-pants-pulled-down-to-her-knees. But instead, he surprises her, reaching out himself and undoing the fly of her jeans, then slipping his fingers into her pants and pulling jeans and pants down to her ankles; apparently today he is in a particularly hands-on mood and wants to undress her himself. He looks at her expectantly, and she quickly steps out of the pile of clothes at her feet, leaving herself naked from the waist down.

Peter gives a satisfied nod, then grabs the bottom of her shirt, and she quickly raises her arms so that he can pull the garment over her head. It takes him another moment to undo her bra, and then she is standing naked, vulnerable, before the High King of Narnia, as he prepares to render judgment.

"Do you believe your conduct has been becoming a Queen of Narnia?" Peter asks.

"No," she admits, then remembers to add, "your Majesty."

Peter nods. "I would be remiss in the duty laid upon me by Aslan if I let such behavior go unpunished."

"Yes, my King," she agrees.

"You submit to my judgment?"

Susan lowers herself to her knees, so that she is kneeling before Peter. "I submit to the High King," she answers. "Always."

This answer pleases Peter; he reaches out and traces the side of her breast. "Yes," he says, "and yet." He reaches underneath Susan's bed, pulls out the paddle, the wide spanking paddle with an illustration of a lion painted onto it which was a present to them from the Professor. "Over my knee, Su."

She assumes the position over his knee, and he rests his hand on her arse, giving it a quick squeeze. "Ten strokes for not doing your schoolwork," he announces, "five for your equivocation afterwards . . . and fifteen for the content of your conversation. Melissa is a bad influence, I think." After a moment, he adds, "You'll have to introduce her to me." He removes his hand from her arse and then brings the paddle down--not as hard as he would like to, she knows, in order to keep Mum from hearing the sound of the strike, but surely he'd figured that into his calculations when he decided on the punishment, and added extra strikes in compensation.

He brings down the paddle down again, deliberately, not rushing through the process, and her arse is already stinging like the dickens. He brings it down again, and she has to bite her lip in order to keep from crying out and having Mum hear.

Twenty-two more strikes later, he pauses. "You want to do the last five, Lu?"

Lucy's been sitting on her own bed the whole time with her math book spread on her knees, but Susan could see her younger sister's eyes had been affixed on her and Peter, not the book. "Okay," she says, closing the book, then crosses the room, sitting down on Susan's bed next to Peter.

Susan gets up--the new change in positions suddenly igniting brand new pains--and lowers herself across Lucy's lap. Lucy accepts the paddle from Peter and administers the last five strokes with no less force than Peter.

"Thank you, Queen Lucy."

Lucy just smiles. "You're welcome," she answers, with genuine eagerness to please.

"And now thank me," Peter orders.

Susan nods and once again kneels before the High King. It takes a moment to undo his jeans before his cock is in her mouth, and then she sets about thanking him, her lips and tongue gently rubbing against the shaft in ways she knows are guaranteed to bring him pleasure, as Lucy openly watches. It's time now for him to bite back his responses, to have to keep quiet so Mum won't hear.

He comes in her mouth, and she swallows.

"How many pages do you have done?" he asks her as he buttons his fly.

"Three," she answers. "Out of seven."

He nods as he heads for the door. "Get it done, Su."

Susan opens up her laptop, sets in on the bed and, still kneeling on the floor so as to spare her aching arse, begins to type.