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 The Princess and the Wooden Soldier

An Adult Fairy Tale

By Flatfish

Back through the mists of time, in a distant and enchanted land, there lived a handsome prince. He was brave and strong and resplendent in his uniform as an officer in the King’s army. And each day he would ride his white charger through the dark forest that covered much of the land. But one day, tragedy struck and the prince’s horse returned alone.

In the weeks that followed, his father, King Henry, distraught with worry and fear, led a large party of riders to search for his missing son but no sign could be found. Then as dusk approached on one very exhausting day, deep in the centre of the forest where the trees were so thickly spaced that the hunt had to be carried out on foot, the searchers came across a terrifying sight. Sitting on a log, in a strange inexplicable pose, as if frozen in time, they found a life-size wooden soldier; a crudely painted manikin which bore a disturbing likeness to the Prince.

Misery descended on the kingdom. The King and Queen mourned the loss of their precious son. The Queen had insisted that the manikin be carried carefully back to the palace where the moss and forest lichen were carefully cleaned away. There it was stored, sitting in the Prince’s room, high in the forbidden tower where no one but the royal couple and a few loyal servants could see it. Each day the Queen, convinced that the manikin was really her son cruelly transformed, would visit the tower and weep over her wooden soldier and sometimes she was sure that the manikin also wept. And each day she would take the manikins hands and rest them on its knees but by the next morning it had always returned to its strange and angry pose. And she couldn’t help thinking it was as if the Prince had been enchanted in the act of spanking some long departed delinquent.

~

“I don’t want to go!” screamed Princess Alicia. “It’s bad enough that you’ve paraded me around the neighbouring kingdoms, for every oaf and spotty faced imbecile to whine at me about their undying love. I won’t be dragged to a palace that doesn’t even have a prince.”

“Please be reasonable,” begged her father, King Alfred. “It’s more than two years since your sixteenth birthday and we still haven’t found you a husband. We have had no choice but to visit the neighbouring kingdoms. Now we need to rest before we return home and my good friend, King Henry, has offered us a few days respite. But take care daughter. Don’t mention the young men we have visited. Their son, Prince James, tragically disappeared a few years ago.”

Alfred went on to tell his daughter the legend of the mysterious disappearance and finished with the rumour of the manikin in the forbidden tower. Alicia was intrigued and despite her father’s warning, a mischievous smile crossed her face as she promised herself that the tower would not be forbidden to her.

The King and Queen, Princess Alicia and their entourage were welcomed at King Henry’s palace. A great banquet was held and wine and food flowed from the kitchens. Alicia sulked and moped and moaned about being bored as all the other guests enjoyed the revelry. But all the time she was listening and learning about the missing prince and the secret location of the wooden soldier. Then, as the evening wore on, with the guests and hosts deep in drunken conversation, she quietly faded into the background and when no one was looking, she slipped away.

She hurried through the Great Hall, discreetly ignored by a lone palace guard and down a narrow corridor towards her room. But at the end, instead of turning towards the guest suites, she turned down a dark passageway through the quietest part of the palace, and headed to the foot of the forbidden tower.

Alicia glanced around to make sure she was completely alone. A dark archway marked the entrance to the tower. She grabbed a candle from a nearby alcove and slowly made her way up the spiral stone stairway. Halfway to the top she came across a landing and in a dark corner she could just make out a heavy oak door with a handle in the form of a large iron ring. Cautiously, she crept towards it and listened. There was no sound so she grasped the handle, turned and pushed. Silently the heavy door swung open on well-greased hinges.  Trembling a little, she cautiously took a step into the room and swept the candle around noting the elaborate richly coloured tapestries depicting scenes of battle. Thick furs covered the cold stone floor and fading embers glowed in a large stone fireplace.

A hot cinder dropped into the hearth and for a brief moment the fire flared casting its light on a still figure sitting silently in a chair. Alicia was startled and almost dropped her candle. Her instinct was to flee back down the steps but something about the figure’s unnatural pose and the stillness of the scene kept her rooted to the spot. She caught her breath then moved carefully on into the room sure now that the figure wasn’t a living person and must be the fabled toy soldier.

As she approached, her candle clearly illuminated the figure. “Oh my God”, she said. “What are you?” She held the candle close to the manikin’s face and gently stroked its cheek. “Actually, you know, you’re not that bad looking.”

Despite the figure’s stiff bearing and its painted rosy cheeks and staring eyes, it had a handsome quality. Its shoulders were square, its arms looked muscled and strong and its thighs were… inviting.

Alicia immediately recognised  the position of the manikin’s strangely held arms. That pose had featured in her dreams for most of her life and for a second she was tempted to scramble over its lap, just to know what it really felt like to be put over a man’s knee. She shivered as a deep sexual thrill ran through her. But she knew it was too early in the evening for such private games. Someone was sure to come to the room soon and she would hate to be caught in the forbidden tower.

 “I’ll be back later,” she whispered, “when we won’t be disturbed.”

Alicia returned to her room where excitement and anticipation helped her stay awake.

In the early hours of the morning the palace finally became silent as the drunken revellers wound their way to their beds. Alicia waited until she was sure everyone was asleep then slipped quietly out of bed. She pulled on her boots and wrapped a cape around her shoulders. Five minutes later she was back in the forbidden tower and with her stomach churning with excitement she crept once again into the dark room. The chamber was cooling now. The glow from the fire was almost gone. She placed her candle carefully on a small round table where it could cast its light directly onto the vacant face of the manikin.

Glancing around to make sure she was completely alone she nervously unclipped her cape and let it slip from her shoulders to reveal her short almost transparent nightdress. Trembling, and with her heart pounding in her chest, she moved over to the right side of the manikin and stared down at its inviting lap. How she longed to do this with a real man. Bending over, she reached across and gripped the soldier’s left leg and despite the hard wood, she was pleasantly surprised by the feel of its smooth muscular thigh. Carefully she lowered her body until her breasts pressed against the back of her hands and then she slid forward over the soldier’s knees until she could comfortably lift her feet from the floor.

The manikin’s left hand hovered at midriff height and she squeezed under it. And once she was in position the hand rested in the small of her back with a satisfying firmness, as if holding her in place. The right hand meanwhile, hard and wooden towered threateningly in the air over her upturned bottom.

“Oh please sir,” pleaded the Princess, kicking her feet and clenching her fists, “I know I’ve been naughty but please don’t spank me!”

She giggled and turned pink with embarrassment. She was really glad that the Prince’s room was in such an isolated part of the palace. She would die of humiliation if anyone found out what she was doing She had imagined this scenario so often in the past. Her secret desire to be hauled over a strong suitor’s knee and soundly spanked had always remained nothing but a deep longing. The fops and wimps she had been introduced to in recent years fell depressingly short of her needs. But even now, over the knee of this lifeless manikin, she could only imagine the thrill of the smack of a strong hard hand on her soft cheeks.

Stretching her left arm back, she slapped herself on the bottom. It smarted a little but she daren’t do it hard enough to really hurt. She tried again, twice more, then in frustration she wriggled free from the manikin’s grip and stood facing it, her expression, a mask of annoyance and disappointment. “What use are you,” she snapped. She kicked the manikin on the shin.  “I wish you would really spank me.” She sulkily snatched her up cape from the floor, and was about to wrap it around her shoulders when she heard a muffled groan.

She spun around. “Who’s there?” she demanded.

Panicking now she picked up the candle and looked wildly about. “I demand to know whose there,” she said again.

There was no answer. Then she heard another mournful groan and this time there was no mistaking where it came from. The prince was struggling back to life.

Alicia reached slowly out towards the figure, unable to believe what she was seeing. She was about to touch the manikin’s painted cheek when without warning its left hand darted across, grasped her wrist and started to pull her forward.

Alicia tried to pull back, wide eyed and terrified. “W… What are you doing?” she squeaked. “Let me go.” But no matter how hard she pulled, she couldn’t free herself and her heart thumped in her chest as she was dragged closer to the side of the transforming prince. Her gaze fell once again at those strong thighs that had seemed so inviting before and with a stomach churning mixture of fear and excitement she realised with mounting dread  what was about to happen.

With a groan and a creak of straining wood the transforming prince gave a heave and sent the protesting princess sprawling over his knees. In a second she was clamped firmly into place where her kicking and writhing could do nothing to free her and the thought of being spanked was no longer a wish. Now it was an all too imminent certainty.

Alicia felt the Prince raise his hand. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. There was a brief moment of dread, then with a resounding thwack that echoed around the room the Prince’s hand smacked against Alicia’s upturned bottom and Alicia screamed. Despite his steady transformation back to flesh and blood, the Prince’s spanking hand was still hard seasoned wood and it landed with the force of an unforgiving paddle igniting an unbearable fire in Alicia’s soft and pampered bottom.

A second smack landed with equal force a second later amplifying the sting and Alicia had no time to dwell on the mounting soreness before more whacks followed. Alicia howled and twisted her bottom from side to side but there was nothing she could do to escape the ferocious spanking.

On and on it went, thwack, smack and whack, the more the Prince spanked her, the more human he became, and the more human he became the faster and harder he spanked her – desperate to be fully human again.

After an eternity the transformation was complete. The spell that had imprisoned the Prince for so long was fully broken. Panting for breath, he stopped spanking and released his grip on the Princess. Alicia scrambled off his knee and paced the room, bawling and clutching and rubbing her bottom.

The prince slowly turned his head towards her but before he could fully see her face Alicia, mortified with embarrassment and furious at being soundly spanked, grabbed her cloak and ran from the room.

Half an hour later the prince had recovered enough to make his way down the steps. The guard on duty gaped in disbelief when the Prince staggered from the forbidden tower. Then shaking himself free from the shock he raised the alarm and soon the King and Queen and every servant in the palace were scurrying about in joyous excitement. Only the guests remained undisturbed, too deeply asleep to be awoken by the chaos outside.

Alicia lay face down on her bed cooling her blazing bottom. When she heard the activity in the corridors she carefully pulled a light cover over herself, wincing as it rubbed against her sore flesh. She pretended to sleep and to her relief no one came to disturb her.

Down in the Great Hall a fire now blazed in the fireplace and everyone gathered around to hear the Prince’s extraordinary story.

The Prince huddled by the fire clutching a gobblet of mead. Slowly he recovered enough to speak.

“I… I was courting a girl in the village,” he began.

“What?!” bellowed the King. “You were courting a commoner?”

“It wasn’t my fault Father,” protested the Prince. “I was bewitched and one day I caught the wretch putting the potion into my ale. On seeing my anger the girl fled into the forest. I mounted my horse and took chase and eventually caught her. I had intended to bring her back to the Palace for trial and imprisonment but first I wanted to take my personal revenge. I sat down on a fallen tree and pulled her over my knee. She fought like a wild cat but it did her no good. I dragged up her skirt and spanked her with all my strength. I spanked her until I was all but exhausted and her bottom was the deepest scarlet. She howled and screamed but there was no one to hear her so deep in the forest, no one to come to her aid… or so I thought.

I was about to give the minx a final thrashing when her mother appeared. I should have realised of course. Such an enchantress could only be the daughter of Mogora, the old witch of the forest. I told her I was giving the brat what she’d been asking for and I had just raised my hand to deliver another smack when Mogora cast her spell, freezing me in the act and trapping my spirit in the heart of a hideous wooden soldier, there to remain until a young girl would find me and genuinely ask me to spank her – something Mogora was certain would never happen.”

The audience were enthralled by the Prince’s story and when he finished silence hung over the room. But then the Queen spoke.

“But, but that must mean some girl came to your room in the night and… “

“And asked me to spank her,” finished the Prince. “And now I must find her and reward her for saving my life.”

“Or punish her for defying my command and entering the tower,” muttered the King angrily.

“Oh I think you’ll find she has already been punished Father. It’s hazy but I’m pretty certain I gave her a spanking that was both unexpected and severe in the extreme. If that girl can still sit down I’ll eat my crown.”

“Then we must find her at once,” bellowed the King turning to the gathered servants. “I want every serving girl in the palace to line up. We will soon identify my son’s mysterious saviour”

There was a momentary scuffling as girls were pushed into place and then the Prince strolled along the line dismissing those who were too young, too old, too tall or short or too fat or thin. By the time he reached the end of the line five shapely young women remained, each feeling very smug and superior to those eliminated from the search.

“Well which is it?” demanded the King.

“I… I just don’t know,” said the Prince looking puzzled. “I don’t know what the girl looked like from the front.” Then to the girls’ horror he said “I… I think I’m going to have to spank each one to see if I can identify her that way.”

A seat was brought forwards and one by one the protesting girls were tearfully summoned over the Prince’s knee for a very sound spanking while those fortunate enough to have been eliminated now smirked and giggled.

The first girl to be tested, Rosebud, wriggled, kicked and yelped during her spanking. Her bottom was firm and pleasing and the Prince really wasn’t sure if she was the one. The girl he had spanked during the night had been almost naked so he pulled up Rosebud’s dress and smacked her bare bottom but still he wasn’t sure.

The four waiting servant girls trembled and rubbed their bottoms as they watched, knowing they would soon be suffering the same fate. The second girl, Holly, could not believe she was about to face the humiliation of a public spanking.  She was a little taller and more voluptuous than the other girls and as the Queens private handmaiden she considered herself superior to the kitchen staff. She protested loudly as the Prince dragged her over his knee but the painful reality check that followed left her bawling just as much as Rosebud.  The next two Kate and Fern felt promising but didn’t sound right when they squealed. The Prince smacked harder to be sure but their cries were just too shrill. The last girl, Primrose just didn’t feel right. Then, to Rosebud’s tearful dismay the Prince called her back just to make sure. She wailed as she was pulled once again over the Prince’s knee for another spanking on her sore stinging bottom but after a good long while and some very harsh smacks, the prince was certain – The mysterious girl who’d visited the tower was not among the servants.

As dawn broke over the Palace the guests awoke and came down to the Great Hall for breakfast. All were shocked and overjoyed to see the Prince alive and well – all, that is, except Princess Alicia who was really distracted by the problem of trying to sit her still sore bottom on the hard wooden bench that ran beside the banqueting table.

Food was brought in by the servant girls led by the tearful Rosebud, and it only took a minute for her to notice Alicia’s discomfort and to know from her own stinging bottom exactly what was troubling the Princess.

Rosebud was furious that she and the others had been spanked because of the Princess’s behaviour and she decided it was time to “out” the spoiled girl’s secret. So ignoring the usual protocol to be seen and not heard she approached Alicia and asked in a loud voice “Would your Highness care for a cushion to sit on?”

Silence fell on the room and everyone turned to stare at Alicia.

“Well my son,” said the King with a smile, “I think we have found your mysterious saviour.”

Alicia’s face turned as scarlet as her well smacked bottom and she wished the ground would swallow her up. But then King Alfred broke the silence. He arose from his seat, cleared his throat and turned to the Prince. “May I introduce my Daughter James, the Princess Alicia.”

Alicia gritted her teeth and gave an uncomfortable curtsey.

“Enchanted,” grinned the Prince and gave a deep bow.

Alicia and the Prince were a perfect match. Soon they were married and in the years that would follow, no one ever questioned why the Princess often needed a soft cushion on her throne.

Happiness returned once again to the Kingdom and everyone lived happily ever after – even poor Rosebud who was spanked again after breakfast for speaking out of turn.

The End

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