Free The Princess and the Huntsman by Patricia Green Page A

often.”
    With that, he struck her half a dozen times in quick succession. Brandywyn gasped and cried out. The belt was much worse than his hand or the hairbrush. She could see him swinging the objectionable leather out of the corner of her eye, and it looked like he was taking full advantage of his position standing over her. More strokes added fire to her behind, and more again. Her bottom was on fire, molten fire, and the pain radiated through her whole middle and up to her ears, which burned with shame and frustration. It had been wrong of her to try to give Tom dirty bread. The first time she had dropped it, she realized that it was ruined, but she spitefully decided that he deserved the disgusting food for his mistreatment of her. She would not deign to eat it, of course. But the small pebbles and bits of mud only enhanced her revenge on him. After a few more minutes of kneading, the bread accidentally dropped off the table again. She was mightily satisfied and pleased with her handiwork. The bread making went on like that, adding glee to her chore. Of course, then Tom had to catch her doing it again and all of Hades had been released against her. Now she was paying the price.
    Tom’s lecture did not help matters. “You will take more care when preparing food, Brandywyn. You will mind my instructions and keep the food clean and edible.”
    Her bottom was screaming. Each new blow added to her misery tenfold. She might deserve it, but she would not take it easily. Brandywyn struggled against his hold, tears brimming over her eyelids. “Stop!” she cried. “I shall be more mindful! Please, Tom!”
    Tom applied the belt to her bottom and down both tender thighs. The pain jarred her through and through and she began to cry in earnest. “You will complete your chores with greater care in the future, Brandywyn, for I shall not find it amiss to leave you naked and red-arsed for all the hours of the day.”
    Horror jolted Brandywyn. Surely he would do no such thing. Oh, the humiliation of such base treatment! Spankings were enough, but to be treated like the meanest slave would be anathema. “I will do better! Please, Tom, do not treat me that way!”
    “I want to hear you say you are sorry, Brandywyn.” He smacked her another half dozen times and her sobs got louder and her wails more forlorn. She wished with all her heart she could behave like a strong, royal, stalwart princess and take her beating without a flinch. But, oh! The pain was a torture!
    “I am sorry! I am so, so sorry! I shall never do it again, Tom. I promise!”
    “Hm…” His blows got somewhat lighter, though they kept falling for a long, agonizing minute. Brandywyn was a blubbering mass of jelly when he relented.
    Invisible flames scorched her entire backside and down her thighs. Brandywyn sobbed and cried into the bed’s blanket. She truly was sorry for her behavior. It had been reprehensible. Tom had been kind to her, if rather demanding. “I-I-I am sorry, Tom.”
    He sat upon the bed and pulled her up into his arms. Her peasant’s skirt scratched her tender bottom as it fell back into place, but still, sitting in his lap was not so bad. Tom pulled her in close to his chest and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head. As he stroked her hair, he murmured nonsense words to soothe her. It worked. Her tears soon dried and her sniffles abated. No longer did the sobs shake her to the bone.
    “Behave, Brandywyn,” he reminded her. “I shall show you the cost of your misbehaviors every time you try them.”
    “Aye, sir. I shall do better.” At least, Brandywyn hoped she could do better. Who knew how long she would be stuck here with Tom Huntsman. Since she had no intention of saying she was other than a princess, it could be a very long time indeed.
    Tom supervised her making the bread, moving around the cottage for a bit and then sitting down to sharpen his arrows. Brandywyn dutifully followed the instructions she