Romilly has an 'R' for red.

Romilly wasn’t an idiot. She was, contrary to popular opinion, truly smart. And she knew it.

British press had classified her as the ‘cold-hearted’ one of her family. Isla was the charming and strong-willed middle child, who would make people look at her and hear what she was saying whether they agree or not; because she could and would. Nathaniel was the smart and centred oldest son, who was the perfect ace for business and wasn’t interesting to talk about because he barely had a life, according to the press anyway. And then, there was Romilly with her quirky remarks, her acid humour and her love for going out to parties –something she shared with her twin, but Romilly was a bit more…showy, one could say.

At least she didn’t earn the title of ‘ruthless bitch’. That was sweet ruthless Cornelia.

Everybody knew Isla would be a good lawyer, she practically born to be heard and would never backed off. Romilly was barely kicking her way into Economics—but fyi, she was lazy, not stupid. And the situation was the press love her anyway. Gossip magazines had her face plastered all over them, especially because apparently she kissing the same boy more than one time was gold. Romilly sighed, it was plain stupid and the paparazzi had been following her and James for days now.

The photo of them both playing with sparkles on November, 5^th was such sensation… which was, kind of the problem.

So she jumped in her seat when her mobile buzzed. She was expecting the call since she saw the magazine, but still…

“Everything’s fine?” James asked after a moment, eyes glued to his notebook and his hand moving over the calculator. “You’ve been quiet, that’s unsettling.”

James was 5’9 and had white skin, dirty-blond hair and green eyes whit very prominent eyebrows. He was attractive though many girls thought his eyebrows were a turning off, that and his attitude. He had an almost eternal frown in his face which was even more intimidating and wasn’t very talkative unless you were part of his team-mates, in which case he would be barking orders at you since he was a perfectionist. No one understood how he and Romilly were dating, or how she coped with him.

“I’m thinking” she answered, looking at the flat screen of her mobile.

James hummed and after a minute, when her mobile buzzed again, he put down his calculator and looked at her rising one of his prominent eyebrows. Romilly answered him with an innocent smile that he had learnt to distrust; James knew his girlfriend was one for mischief. Then again, she didn’t look the part with her curly redhead adorning her face and her sweet-innocent smile. James knew better, though.

Romilly was attractive with her long and curly red hair, a streak from her mother. Her eyes were green, but a shade darker than James and although she was pretty, there was an air of dangerousness in her eyes. James believed that Romilly’s eyes were her true spirit; she could seem frail or cold and everything with a variation of how she were looking at someone.

“You should answer your phone” he said in the end.

“I guess…” but she didn’t want to.

James rolled his eyes and mumbled “stubborn” before focusing again on his work. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, he did, but he would let her be. Romilly stuck her tongue and answered the phone, trying to keep her good vibes.

“Courtney! You never call, what is the matter?” Romilly asked with a serious voice. Her cousin barely called, unless she wanted something. Or something had happened, Cornelia rather visit them than calling them. “Oh, you…eh, thank you?” she said. Apparently Cornelia had seen the photo too, as did Eleanor, and both women thought she was gorgeous on that cover. “Yes, I will tell him. Yes. Owl, my professor is coming and I must…yes, I’m sure he’ll be grateful, I’ll let him know. See you on Christmas” she hanged up and sighed.

“I’m not going to do anything she wanted me to do” James said, still with his face on his work. “Tell Cornelia she can keep whatever she had bought for herself.”

Romilly laughed, they were on the same page there. She loved her cousin to death, but her style wasn’t for them.

“I will”

The next call made her sighed, that was the call she feared. However she answered the call. Actually they had a free period, but she hadn’t been in the mood to talk with Cornelia about James and his ‘boring’ fashion sense. She got up and started to peace in the empty room, which caught James’s attention.

“Father” she said in her sweetest voice.

Her father was angry and she knew it, also Romilly could hear her mother’s voice in the background and she smiled tensely. If her mother was that worked up, then things would be awry when she got home, maybe more than she had already expected. Her father, however, remained really calm and after asking her if she was alone (to which she said no, she wasn’t) he proceed to tell her that she should go straight home then, since they needed to talk.

“Oh, but today I have to stay a bit late to help Vlad in the club” she said, finding really easy to gain time. She would need a really good excuse to get away with her infraction. “We got new books and he’s a bit overworked, so I volunteer to sort them out.”

Romilly was sure she would have things done neatly. Her parents loved Vladimir. They really, truly, loved him as the second son they never had. Vladimir was very pragmatic but he was really protective of her (as he put it ‘his daughter’) and they were good friends, so if Vlad was involved, there was a high possibility of she getting away with everything.

As it was stated before, Romilly was smart. But she was overconfident too. Her mother’s negativity was unexpected.

If she had been alone, she would have put more of a fight. But she wouldn’t risk with James so close and so interested in the conversation, as if she wouldn’t know. So she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose (a trait she got from her boyfriend) and nodded a couple of times.

“Fine, I’ll be there.” She sighed and hanged up.

“You didn’t say anything about helping Vlad today” James commented casually, as an afterthought. He and Vlad didn’t get along, since Vlad thought he was using Romilly. James wasn’t, but he hadn’t convinced the Russian yet. “What happened?”

“Mummy and Father wanted me to assist to some meeting with them, an ‘important’ one, but it’s boring I didn’t want to go.”

“That’s why you have been acting weird all day?” he said, sighing. “I thought they had found out about…”

“Nay” she cut him out, rolling her eyes. “I told you, I’m way too good hiding my tracks. And yes, I knew they wanted me to go, they had been talking about it for months. It’ll be boring” she sighed.

It really wasn’t a lie, though. Well, it was a half-one but what was James expecting? She would never tell him that yes, she had gotten herself a tanning. Besides, her parents actually wanted her to go to a meeting, so no harm was done there.

The morning classes went faster than she would have wanted after that. When the classes were over, she skipped offering James a ride to his job, she shouldn’t be late, her mother promised to be counting the minutes and Romilly believed her. The one hour drive went as fast as light, and she hadn’t got any plausible way to explain her parents why a spanking was…unnecessary. She had some vague ideas, but they sounded too presumptuous to try them. She thought of offering them to take away the car and her mobile, but she hadn’t pay for them and if she committed the mistake of saying that with things as they were, it would end up bad.

In the end she parked the car in front of the big doors of the mansion and got inside, feeling how everything seemed to go faster than it should. The housekeeper, Maude, gave her a respectful node before addressed her properly.

“Good Evening, Miss Letholdus.” She greeted. “Mrs. Letholdus expects you in her study”

Romilly nodded without giving the housekeeper much attention and went straight to her mother study. She thought she was floating instead of walking, but probably was her nervousness playing with her head. Before knocking the door, she breathed in and calmed herself. It was her mother study, which meant it was her mother who would deal with her punishment. But as a matter of fact, she rather when it was her father the one dealing with her. Gregory had a soft spot for his youngest child and Romilly knew it, so more often than not she played the kicked kitten with him to get her way. And he let her, of course, because when he put his foot down, not even her meowing got her anything.

She knocked once and entered without waiting for an invitation, they were expecting her after all.

The study room was big, spacious and very luminous with its cream walls mixing with the oak of the shelves on both sides of the walls; its wide windows (thought the blinds were shut at the moment). Inside the room was the traditional big oak desk, in the sides of the desk were five drawers each and behind the desk were there portraits hanging of the wall; the first was of a handsome young man, which was Romilly’s oldest brother, the second was of a smiling Isla in a pretty queenly dress and the third was of Romilly in a 20’s dress. In front of the desk were two cream cushioned armchairs and a little wooden table with the cover in cream. The other side of the study was a small lounge with two small armchairs and a long divan and an electric fireplace.

“Father, mummy” she greeted and closed the door after her. Her parents were seated in the cream armchairs in front of the desk, waiting for her. “There was a bit of traffic” she added, as an afterthought.

Gregory contained his laugh at the comment; he knew his daughter hated small talk. He greeted her affectionately, or as much as he was capable, and ceded his seat. Before accepting the seat, she greeted her mother who although angry at her didn’t reject her intentions. Of the three of them, Rowena was the less emotional, then Romilly and finally Gregory. They moved onto the lounge and once she had claimed the divan as hers, it started.

Her mother showed her the magazine.

“Care to explain, my dear?”

Romilly felt the cold in her stomach while her brain thought quickly of a good enough answer to appease her mother. All that time she had been thinking, but nothing seemed convincing. Her brain was going to explode. She smiled, then. Would her mother believe it was an old photo that had just leaked? No, it was a weak excuse. Last year she hadn’t been that close to James. And it wasn’t false.

“Well?” Rowena prompted her daughter, her voice filled with impatient and her manicured nails tapping against her arm. “You had enough time to think of something, dear.”

The girl sighed and glanced at her father, who was amused at the situation. No, not the situation of her sneaking when grounded to have fun in London, but her running out of ideas. She knew her father had a sneaky sense of humour too, even if he denied.

Then the only option was the truth. As much truth as she could manage, after all Isla would be heart-broken if she arrived home and was sent to the study for a spanking as well for helping her sister to sneak out. Romilly couldn’t betray her sister that way. She couldn’t, it was Isla and she rather blamed herself for everything.

“Jim invited me to see the Bonfire night; I have never been there and thought it would be…fun. It was before the grounding, and he had bought tickets for us to see a movie too, a movie in a real middle-class movie theatre, how could I say no?” she said, sheepishly. Oh, she could have said no if she had wanted, she wasn’t that easy to manipulate. “Since the professor told us about the field-trip to Wales we hardly see each other outside classes, he works double turns and I knew you would have said no, so I thought that just one time wouldn’t hurt…” she said, seeming more embarrassed of admitting that she had missed her boyfriend than her actual sneaking out. “I know that what I did was wrong and immature. Also I know you are angry and disappointed for the lying and sneaking out; I am sorry, I am.”

Spilling everything out relieved her somehow.

She hated feeling exposed, sure, but on the other hand, it was good being able to look at her parents without feeling the worst daughter ever for keeping secrets when most of the time they were more than supportive of her. Sure, most of the time they weren’t home (and that was also why she hadn’t think of them arriving late at night of their trip) and they had been raised by governesses and sent to boarding school, but, they spent holidays together and every single time they called, their parents answered. She knew it, so in way she was close to her parents. And her family had strong family values were family was the most important thing, so lying to them wasn’t exactly a joyful experience.

“I understand, and I’ll accept whichever kind of punishment you deliver” she finished.

It was her mother who spoke first and if Romilly thought it would be just a spanking and it was over, she has highly mistaken. Gregory had got serious at once, and the girl had the feeling that she would feel sorry for what she did.

Romilly wasn’t very expressive with her emotions and sometimes she even was dismissive with her own feelings towards certain aspects of life. She laughed, she was social, she pouted and threw a tantrum, yes, but it was something she was used to. Laughing at someone’s joke was wasn’t the same to convince James she loved him and that he was important to her, because that meant exposure and she wasn’t fan of it.  Now she was being dismissive with her parents’ feelings.

“Immature, arrogant child” her mother said, glaring at her. Romilly went straight in her chair at that, feeling like a small child. “You understand nothing of what you did, but you still think you know it all. Do you think it is funny to worry us to death, Lavinia Romilly Letholdus?”

Uh-uh. First the motherly glare and now the full name. The girl went rigid. As much as she was intimidated, she felt slightly offended as well. Of course didn’t found funny to worry her parents, but in her defence, she didn’t even know they would be at home! However she kept her tongue checked, her mother was worked up enough as it was.

“It was never my intention to worry you, mummy” she said, lowering her head. “I’m sorry.”

Rowena looked at her youngest daughter with a sceptical look. That was her daughter, the daughter who barely misbehaved and never talked back, the one who was so eager to please and so easy to reign back; the daughter who, as well, didn’t know when she was wrong and when her attempts to seem contrite weren’t the answer. Romilly was the perfect image of a chastised girl with her head lowered and her bitten bottom lip, her shoulders sunk and her apologies and hidden promises of ‘never doing it again’, but it was just a façade and Rowena had seen it before; Romilly wasn’t sorry for anything, she was just trying to avoid conversation by handed herself in silver-platter.

And the woman decided she would have none of it. She was all in for spanking both her daughters and her son, but she was against doing it without purpose. Romilly wouldn’t fight the punishment, whichever it was, but she wouldn’t even fully understand why she was being punished by some method and not the other.

“Lavinia, drop the act” Rowena said, breathing. “You’re not sorry for sneaking out, you’re not even sorry for being caught; feigning that you are is not, and never will be, the solution.”

Romilly raised her head to look at her mother so fast that she hurt herself a bit. She wasn’t acting! Why her mother made everything so difficult? She disobeyed them, she admitted it and now she expected the punishment and to be over with it. Most parents would love to have a daughter so eager to accept her faults, but her mother couldn’t just agree with it.

“Don’t call me that” she said, pouting. “I am sorry, mummy, truly I am. What can I do for you to believe me?”

Gregory had been watching the development of the situation carefully, it was obvious that her daughter hadn’t had the time to develop a strategy to avoid punishment, so she had handed herself instead. He loved that girl more than he could put it into words, but he spent a lot of his free time with her, teaching her his tricks and learning a few from her. For him it was obvious that she was playing them. Not that she was doing it consciously, but it was her nature. Romilly was showing them what they wanted to see: their daughter ashamed of lying. Gregory stood up and both women looked at him; Romilly with wide open eyes and a trembling lip and Rowena with knowing eyes.

“I am sorry, father!” Now Romilly was feeling quite desperate.  As much as she wanted it to be over, she didn’t want to be actually spanked. But at least, it would be over.

Gregory took her daughter by her hand and helped her to stand up and then he kissed her forehead. She seemed confused, very, very confused. The man look straight into her eyes and shook his head, she needed time. Nathaniel was strong-willed and Isla was a fighter, she defended her position until she couldn’t do it anymore, then she started to cry. But Romilly was the stranger, the one who arrived with all the intentions to confess the crime if she hadn’t a story, but didn’t truly understand what she was confessing.

“You know we love you, right?” he asked her, to what she nodded in answer. “And you know, we will do anything to protect you, right?” again, she nodded, still unsure of what he meant. “Knowing this, do you find it funny to worry us?”

“Of course not” she answered quickly.

“No, I suppose no. You need to think what you did wrong, Romilly.”

“I know what I did, I sneaked out and lied and…”

“Not what you think we want to hear. We know what you did, but you didn’t earn a spanking just for that, so you must think first. Go, stand there, and when you’re ready, we’ll talk.”

Romilly looked at her father and then at her mother, not understanding quite well what they want from her. It was frustrating not being able to please them, Isla was so easy to placate when angry. She sighed and pouted more, she hated corner time. It was unnecessary and stressing…but she obeyed after a warning smack from her mother. She hid her face against the wall where it was her picture, she liked that picture and the dress—her mother had designed it for her. She was sixteen then, and a year before she had played an awful prank that earned her the worst spanking of her life; she hadn’t dare to ask for anything in months, not because she thought her parents would deny her whims, but because she felt so ashamed of her behaviour that she didn’t find the courage to ask for things.  And then her birthday came, and she still felt troubled, but she had wanted so much the dress, after she saw a picture of her grandmother with a similar one. Romilly was sure it was Isla’s fault, after all her sister knew she wanted the dress. But it was her mother’s choice to give it to her. She felt happy.

Things calmed, her parents told her she was important. More important than a few antiquities broken—she believed them.

After a few minutes she shook her head. What was she supposed to think? It was pointless! More minutes went by and she started to get anxious, what if her parents had gone and left her alone? It was a possibility, but she didn’t dare to turn.

“Think, Romilly, think” she told herself. “What did I do wrong?” She closed her eyes, trying to open up more possibilities than just the obvious. She thought of James, as of later her thoughts always revolved around him. She thought of how much she enjoyed the night with him, but also that he was worried when he thought she had walked by herself to his home. Isla had helped her. Isla was having a nice date with her boyfriend, so Romilly had packed clothes and hide in the rear seats of Isla’s car, the cameras didn’t caught her nor did the security crew… They arrived to Vladimir’s house where she changed and then Isla drove her to James’ house; they went home at two in the morning, and she didn’t know her parents had come home until much later.

Security had followed Isla…she was sure of it, but she wasn’t sure if they had followed her.  Romilly was so used to be followed by the security crew that it didn’t occur to her that maybe that time she was alone in London and if something happened, she could have been in real danger. What then? Her parents would have waked up to find that instead of a sneaky daughter, they had a kidnapped, dead or severe injured daughter…that would have killed them. That would have broken their hearts, and Isla’s! Isla that had helped her and had been calling her most of the night, poor sister! Isla hadn’t even enjoyed the night—and Vladimir was angry at Arthur, blaming Arthur for her choices.

Her head started to hurt, and she started to feel guilty. She had proclaimed herself immature, but above it she was cruel with her parents’ feelings. Her shoulders fell and she knew, then, what she had done. She had being reckless and uncaring about her own safety, she had been uncaring about her life—being rich, as rich as she was, meant she was a target. She was a means to an end, thought it was harsh thinking that way about one-self, but for others she would mean a way to her family. Gregory and Rowena would have never denied a ransom for any of their children. But more than economically damage, they would be touched by tragedy in a level no one should ever felt.

She turned and her parents where there still. She didn’t run to them, she walked, and she didn’t cry but her voice was a bit cracked. She understood, and she was sorry.

“I didn’t think…” she said, hugging her mother out of instinct. Rowena wasn’t fan of contact, but she patted her daughter’s head. “It seemed so easy, no one would know and no one would be hurt. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Gregory patted her daughter’s head and after some minutes, she hugged him.  Oh, Romilly hated when he sent her to corner time, it meant she must think. But she loved him just as much for it, since he knew her enough. Once she was in control of her emotions again, they sat and discussed the matter at hand: punishment. Romilly gulped and her cheeks burnt. She couldn’t help but blush when she thought about getting a spanking. Not thinking about the concept of what a spanking was, but about the actual process involved and the reasons. It was embarrassing.

“Here are two points, Romilly” Rowena said, her hands over her knees. The girl couldn’t help but stare at her mother’s hands, they were soon-to-be tools of correction and she couldn’t help it. Her hands’ weren’t that big, but they sting! “First, you break our trust, you were disrespectful to us and you lied when we asked you if you had something to tell us; we needed to call you at school to let you know that we knew about the magazine as well. Secondly, you put yourself in danger, were reckless and brash, and didn’t consider what could have been the consequences for your actions; this is more than a lot of your mischief, my dear. This is serious and I think maybe we were too lenient on you”

Romilly gulped, too lenient?

“I think you are strict enough, mummy…” she whispered. Her parents weren’t lenient! Maybe none of them were over Rowena’s knee daily, not even weekly, but they were dealt with for every misdeed! Isla got grounded a week for fall asleep on mass and she earned a tanning for being disrespectful with their mother from their father. Nathaniel’s car was sold once because he didn’t show responsibility… and although she behaved most of the time, how often had she lost her mobile for not good-enough grades? They weren’t lenient! Uncle Edward was lenient with Eleanor! She never got in troubles with him—not even when she had made a scene on the news!

“Obviously we’re not” Rowena said, looking at her husband.

Romilly didn’t know yet, but she owed her good fortune to her father’s intervention. Rowena had decided she would use something more firm on her daughter than her hand and her brush, she was picking between a leather-belt or Scottish taw to deal with Romilly. The taw had won, and Romilly would experience her second up-date in punishment but Gregory had thought the taw was too harsh. Rowena had asked if he considered the belt more suited then, but Gregory didn’t agree either. He disliked the idea of his favoured child getting spanked with tools, he himself, didn’t spanked any of the girls with something different than his hand. Rowena had asked him what he suggested then, since it was obvious something must be done.  A month or so ago, Romilly had begged and pleaded her father to let her go to a baking course in Belgium. Romilly wanted to have a bakery, they weren’t too keen on the idea, but she was stubborn on that. She had begged for a week straight until he had agreed, telling her that she must be on her best behaviour.

Knowing how much Romilly had wanted to go, Rowena accepted the exchanged.

Gregory answered his wife’s look with a simple nod.

Romilly eyed her parents with sad eyes but kept her mouth tightly shut until she was addressed again. Then, she looked at her father and listened to what he was telling her, feeling her stomach turning with each word.

“Your mother thought it would be wise if you acquire more experience in…tools” Gregory said with an amused smile at his daughter’s expression. As if that girl wouldn’t know he would have interceded in her defence. “But I thought the usual would be satisfying, don’t you agree?” Romilly didn’t answer, since her father wasn’t actually expecting her to do so. “However, you still need to be punished for going out unsupervised. It is evident that you’re not mature enough to travel alone to the Continent, is it not? If we can’t trust you to stay safe here, how can we be sure you are going to be safe abroad on your own?”

Although Gregory’s voice was calm, Romilly was getting anxious. She knew where that sentence would end, and she didn’t like it. For a moment she was unsure what was worst, the promise of a spanking or the promise of her dream shattering in front of her eyes. She had put a lot of effort earning the permission to that trip –she had managed to be on her best behaviour, she had avoid doing wild pranks, also she had been branded as more cold than usual by the tabloids until that doomed night when she had thought no harm would be done for going out a couple of hours. She had done her best and her father had promised her…!

Romilly chewed her bottom lip viciously.

“Maybe you can go to Belgium next year, if you’re good”

She was sure she wasn’t sobbing, but she felt tempt to ask for a negotiation, even beg for a reconsideration of punishment.

Rowena, who had been observing her daughter’s reaction, knew her husband had nailed it with the trip. It was evident that losing her trip had been chastisement enough for sneaking out. Now it was due to her handling Romilly’s bad habit of lying when cornered and breaking their trust.

“Do you agree with us, Romilly?” Gregory asked then, since the girl had been looking above his shoulder without blinking for almost a full minute.

Romilly didn’t dare to make eye contact with her father, if she did, she would lose the small amount of control she had over her emotions at that moment. Her heart was broken, but still she managed to choke out a “yes, I do” that was obviously a lie. But her father wasn’t actually asking her. Gregory patted her head softly one time and left her. Romilly didn’t hear his last words and she just looked at the door when his father had exited to let her have privacy with Rowena. Her mother gave her two minutes to compose herself.

“Mummy” Romilly said still in the divan and without looking at Rowena but at an interesting sculpture on one of the shelves. “In the hypothetical case in which we could…negotiate an exchanging of punishment, what exactly would had been the…err” her cheeks blushed furiously, and her voice trembled with embarrassment “instrument used?”

Rowena kept her laughed. Romilly was, indeed, her father’s daughter. She was always so keen to get the best part of each deal, just like Gregory.

“A taw” Rowena said with such finality, that the girl was shocked and her cheeks blushed even more.

“So…Nat wasn’t lying when he said that you…had one?” When her brother still lived at home, he had terrorized them saying that one day they would be ‘upgraded’, which they never believed until the awful day they knew the brush in flesh. But Romilly had always thought that some stories were just a means to get them terrified of throwing their brother under the bus by accident.

“No, he told you the truth. Do you want to negotiate, my dear?”

If it was a real question or not was unknown, Romilly didn’t dare to agree. She had heard Nathaniel’ stories and wasn’t emotionally ready for that. She shook her head with a small smile, standing in front of her mother who soon was seating on the divan.

“No, it was just…curiosity” she replied.

Rowena nodded and tapped her lap.

There wasn’t need for more words, as Romilly had gone through the process more than once in her life. Anyway she flushed furiously once again, feeling conscious that at her age, it was very uncommon to be dealt in such manner—but she knew the rules, for as long as she lived in the Family Estate, she would be attached to her parents’ rules, as soon as she emancipated and could afford all her whims with her own money without relying on her inherence, then she would do as she pleased without answering to anyone.

It took her a few minutes to make herself comfortable over her mother’s knee, since she was now a couple of inches taller than her. But as soon as her bottom was in a good position and accessible, Rowena stated slapping her firmly. Romilly was slim, with normal-size breast but she had a shapely rounded buttocks and she knew it, so she used to remark her buttocks using tight jeans or, as it was the occasion, tight leather jeans. It was a mistake and Romilly soon realized it.

Rowena’s hand delivered sharp smacks with a good rhythm; first she smacked the right cheek at the upper side, then at the bottom, next she spanked the left cheek in the same fashion. The force of the spanking was increasing gradually, and Romilly started to squirm when a particularly hard smack landed in her left cheek. She was biting her lips stubbornly, but her mother could keep going, changing the her method—now two smacks to the right cheek, two to the left, one three to the right, one to the left, one to the right, four to the left—and increasing the force she used. Rowena was a strong woman and she had a good arm after playing tennis for many years. She knew the right angle to make her daughter’s bottom dance and jump which each smack.

Romilly couldn’t control her body completely, so each time her mother delivered a new smack, she squirmed a bit more trying to get away from the burning pain on her behind. What she could control what the noises, and she was biting her lip so hard that she knew it would end bleeding sooner or later. But she refused to whine just yet, she was too prideful.

“Being stubborn will earn you nothing” her mother told her with calm, delivering a last smack at the centre of her bottom, making it jump graciously. “Up”

Romilly stood and moved her legs, containing the urgency to rub her bottom. Rowena pulled down Romilly’s jeans and the spanking continued over her knickers. Romilly’s skin was really, really clear and it was so easy to bruise and colour, so when Rowena pulled down the jeans she saw how the bottom was coloured bright pink. Keeping herself quiet now that Rowena was smacking at a steady rhythm her partially covered bottom was a harder task than before, and soon Romilly founded herself not only squirming but also kicking and whining through greeted teeth.

She was stubborn! But the redder her bottom became, the more compliant she became as well. And when she could no longer keep herself quiet, even when she had evidently bruised her bottom lip and had left the mark of teeth on her left hand, she started complaining loudly.

“Ow! Mummy, it hurt!” she whined, kicking when a sharp smack landed in her uncovered sit-spots. Her mother was giving them a lot of attention. “Ow, ow! Mummy! I won’t lie ever again!”

“Oh, really?” Rowena asked. “How many ‘never again’ had you promised me?” she said. Rowena had been waiting that the spanking started to show its effects on Romilly before scolding her, as it made her more open to hear and retain information. “You shouldn’t lie to your parents! How can we trust you if you lie? Your actions have consequences, and this is just one of them!”

Romilly hissed when she felt that the more vocal her mother became, the harder the smacks fell on her bottom. She hadn’t count how many slaps had she received, or how much she had been over her mother’s lap, she just wanted it to be over! She had learnt, she wouldn’t lie (for a while…) to them—and as if Rowena could hear her thoughts, she landed a series of five smacks to each cheek in faster motion, which made the younger yelp.

“What will you do next time we asked you if something happened?” Rowena asked, voice calmed, but the smacks were hard.

“Ow! Tell you, tell you!” Romilly’s hand went straight to her behind but was caught in time by her mother, That earned her a new series of smacks on the sit-spots. “Ow! That hurt! You’re supposed to be tender with me!”

“Are you sassing me, Lavinia Romilly?”

“N-no…”

Out of the sudden Romilly went silent. Her nose was stuffy and that had always made sound her warning alarms—she was about to cry any minute now. And as she feared, soon tears fell from her eyes and she started to sob, at first she tried to suppress them, but it was to no use. When her mother pulled down her knickers and made her go to fetch the brush from one of the drawers, she wanted to cry openly and asked her to stop. But she went for the brush after two smacks.

“Mummy, I’m sorry” she said once she was over her mother’s lap again. “I won’t lie to you, ever…” and she believed that, she did.

It wasn’t worth the price. She had lost her trip, her parents were disappointed, and now she wouldn’t be able to sit comfortable during a couple of days and she still had to go to school and to the meeting. It had been a terrible idea, in retrospective. She started to cry openly after two minutes with the wooden brush. Rowena let it land in her bottom without blink, just pausing a couple of seconds so the last smack could be felt fully, then when Romilly was thinking it would be all, the next came.

When it was over, Romilly was a crying mess. And her mother had made her count the last twenty smacks; five for lying, five for sneaking, five for being so reckless and five to prevent her to do something like that next time. Romilly’s bottom was a dark shade of red, matching her hair.

“Hush, hush Romsy, it’s over” her mother told her, patting her hair to calm her down. “It’s alright now”

Romilly nodded, but she couldn’t help it. She was so used to bottle everything up, that when she started to cry she cried for hours. She felt better in a way, it was over and she would be able to look at her parents knowing that everything was forgiven. Her pride was wounded, but it would pass, she knew. On the other hand, it hurt and she was sure that if the brush stung like that, she didn’t want to know how it felt to be spanked with a taw, probably she would end up crying even before the thing made contact with her bottom.

“’m sorry” she whispered, crying.

Oh her eyes would be reddish; she would be a walking red point with her red hair, red eyes and red behind.

Several minutes later, almost half an hour, she was better. Still whimpering, but better none the less. Her mother was very patient and had been caressing her hair and her back all the time, in silence, since she wasn’t very open, but she didn’t mind. Talking would be embarrassing; it was forgiven, it was forgotten. She rearranged her clothes, hissing when the leather made contact with her sensitive skin, oh she would be wearing cotton for a while. Her mother laughed softly.

“I won’t use shorts, mummy” she complained, softly.

“You can use skirts you have plenty” she answered, giving her daughter a kiss on the forehead. “Go and have a bath, you’ll need it.”

“Yup, I’ll do.”

She kissed her mother’s cheek as childish act. She felt like doing it, so she did.

While waiting for the maids to get the bath ready, she locked herself in her room and undressed in the closet, using the several mirrors to watch every angle of her body. Her bottom was terribly red!  More than the last time—sure, last time it had been a light spanking. She rubbed it vigorously; she had wanted to do that since she was out of the study. It hurt!

“Next time, I will be more careful…” she promised herself then. And hopefully, her mother would lose her brush in some trip.

After a long bath she dressed in her pyjamas, she was exhausted after crying so much and the emotional turmoil she experienced. Besides she wasn’t hungry, so she chose sleep instead.

Isla entered in the room two hours later, with her eyes just as red as her bottom and after washing her face, she made herself room in her sister’s bed.

“Roms” she whispered, but there was no answer. It was okay. “I’m sorry for putting you in danger, Roms” she said.

Isla loved her sister. She would do whatever Romilly asked her and in return Romilly would do the same for her. Probably the only disadvantage was that it wasn’t that hard to guess who had helped Romilly to sneak out without being noticed. And meanwhile Isla snuggled her head against her sister’s back, she felt just a bit better.

“Night, Roms”

Romilly hummed something, but Isla was sleeping soundly as well.