Royal Domestic Discipline

She tried to keep track of the time she had to spend waiting, but her husband took his sweet time this night and made her wait for what seemed like an eternity. Victoria tried to stay focused on the sound of the door opening and closing again, but instead her mind wandered to the short midday ride and her much needed jump over that hedge. Urging her horse into a sudden gallop and leaving her body guards and the rest of her company behind had been a thrill. She had not planned on jumping that particular hedge that day, but it had been conveniently on the way. The Queen and her mount both relished the few seconds of flying through the air between her mare's hooves leaving the ground at the start of the jump and then safely landing on the grass cushioned floor on the other side and about ten hands lower than they had started. The rest of her entourage had joined her a few minutes later and Victoria had to admit to herself that the expressions of worry, annoyance and above all embarrassment on the faces of her personnel guards had been very enjoyable.

Victoria started to shiver when she felt two gloved hands being put on her shoulders. She had been so focused on replaying her adventure in her mind that she had completely missed the tell-tale sounds of her husband joining her in the bedroom.

"It's time to pay the piper, my dove. Now is the time to speak up if you have a good explanation for your actions, before I'll bend you over my knees for a warm-up spanking and then have you feel the cane as punishment for your recklessness."

"Albert, dear, I admit that spurning my horse over that hedge might have been a tad impulsive, but it was in no way, shape or form reckless. I have made that jump safely with the same horse in sleeting rain dozens of times, and this time it was safer than ever before. The ground was dry and not even a tiny bit slippery and I had the Lord Stable master add a second horn to my saddle, just like the Amazons and equilibrists in the Circus use during their incredible acts."

"That's all fine and dandy, my little dove, but you are not with the Circus. You are the Queen of the British Empire. You should choose your role models more wisely. And as Queen you have to answer to a higher standard. I give you that the jump itself might not have been as reckless as I initially thought. But the fact remains that it was an act unworthy of a Queen and that ditching your bodyguards, even if only for a couple of minutes, was extremely irresponsible, but to prove to you that I'm not unreasonable and actually listen to your arguments, I will not give you as many strokes with the cane as I had initially planned."

"Thank you for your generosity, my husband. May I..."

"No, my Drina, you may not ask how many strokes that will be. You will know when it's over and you are no longer naughty and bratty, but my good, obedient, innocent, little dove once again, back in my arms in our bed."

Albert led Victoria over to the fire place and took a seat on the simple hard-backed hardwood chair next to a comfortable looking leather armchair in which he often spent hours reading. His left hand held her hands securely at the wrists and he pulled her over his knees to get her to take the perfect position for her warm-up spanking. Her pale flesh shivered in fear and anticipation. The leather riding gloves he was wearing guaranteed that the warm-up spanking would be harder than a bare-handed hand-spanking.

He started with sharp and fast slaps that covered systematically every square inch of her pale buttocks. Less than half a dozen slaps in, Victoria started to moan, but he already knew how to differentiate sounds of pain from sounds of arousal and at the moment pain was not at the forefront of his dear wife's mind. Her flesh turned slowly from pale, a pasty white to a shy pink to a pronounced pink and her moans and groans showed that pain was starting to mingle with need. When she started to plead and wriggle, he knew that she was ready for her punishment.

Albert ceased the hand-spanking and spent the next few minutes just caressing her reddened globes. He made her stand up and led her over to the bed where he told her to keep her hands behind her back and wait. He draped a pillow over the foot rest of the bed to make it less uncomfortable, wrapped a silk rope around her wrists and ordered her to bend forward until her head and shoulders rested on the mattress. He positioned her legs further apart until she could no longer put most of her weight on her legs and had to rely on the pillow to protect her from the hard edge of the footrest. Albert knew that Victoria hated and feared this position because it left her completely open and helpless and because it was extremely difficult for her to get out of it without help. But after all, this was a punishment. She was not supposed to enjoy herself.

Albert raised the cane and let it fly. It landed diagonally on her spanked buttocks and left a mark that would quickly turn into a well-defined welt. Victoria cried out a bit and started to groan when the pain flared up to its fullest. He walked over to the other side and applied the second stroke; it crossed the first right in the crack between the butt cheeks just as he had planned. Victoria shrieked and pulled against the rope immobilising her hands and arms.

He loosened the laces of her corset until it was wide enough to be pushed up her torso. He smiled at her and tickled her spine, but she did not seem to be aware of his actions. Her mind was probably too busy with feeling the pain from the caning to respond to the more pleasant sensation of his tickling.

"Hush, little dove, you know better. Remember: you are allowed to cry and groan and whimper. You are not allowed to shout or kick out or try to reach back to protect your naughty bottom. It's undignified and not worthy of my wife and a real Queen everyone adores and respects."

"I'm sorry, Albert. I'll try to do better," Victoria was sniffling and thus hard to understand, but Albert saw her good will and earnest effort to behave as he expected.

"That's my brave little dove. And now, let's get down to business. We have a punishment to finish. Take a deep breath, my Queen."

The next six strokes followed quickly one after the other and left neat, individual strokes on Victoria's skin. Instead of shrieking or wailing – what she really wanted to do – Victoria only sobbed. She wanted nothing more than her punishment to end, but she knew that complaining would not change anything, but make her husband more determined and her punishment longer.

Albert let his left hand run over her flanks and told her that she was doing fine. Then he administered the next six strokes. To Victoria it felt as if they were harder than the first set but she knew that in that case her Albert would have told her about the change in intensity. There was a short interlude before he administered the third and last set of six strokes. This time, however he did not let his hands roam over her body, but simply switched sides to get a better angle. He then walked to the side of the bed, bent down and whispered in her ear,

"Almost done, my love. Only two more strokes and you'll be forgiven. I'm very proud of you, Drina."

Like the first two the last two strokes cut diagonally in her flesh, about half an inch above the first and below the second stroke. Her groans were almost, but not quite shouts. Albert tucked at one end of the silk rope and undid her restraints, then he pulled her up and in his arms, oblivious of the tears running down her face and soaking his shirt and vest.

He told her that she had held up well and that he was proud of her and that he loved her. He held her until the tears on her face had dried, and finished his whispered words by telling her that her escapade on the horse was forgiven. It might have been his imagination, but he thought that she was standing taller at his last words.

Albert smiled down on his wife, closed his arms around her waist, lifted her up and carried her over to a three-piece couch standing along one of the walls that was much more comfortable than it looked. He took a seat and positioned Victoria between his legs in an effort to seat her as comfortably as possible given the welts from the caning and the slight swelling from the earlier spanking. Victoria snuggled in his embrace and let her head rest on his shoulder. He pulled a soft, big blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over his half-naked wife.

When she was all snugly wrapped up, Albert expertly removed the rest of her clothing. Victoria sighed contentedly. She loved the easy, intimate closeness of their private quarters. In her mind it beat the formality necessary in their public interactions by a long shot. Outside of their rooms her Albert was only the husband of the Queen and a foreigner, no one of real importance; in their bedroom Albert was and meant the world to her and she never wanted to find out what it would mean to live her life without his always loving but sometimes quite painful guidance.

THE END

Author's end note: When Prince Albert died after twenty years of marriage and after giving his Queen nine children, Victoria was inconsolable and became a recluse but still had forty years of living ahead of her.