Subject: NEW STORY: Warrior Princess? <MM/f, MM/f, n/c, teens>
From: Kent Stoneking <kentls001@worldnet.att.net>
Date: Sat, 29 Mar 1997 12:00:48 -0800

Warrior Princess?

This is the first story I've tried posting with my new ISP, so we'll have to see how it works...

The following was inspired by the syndicated TV show, "Xena: Warrior Princess". In case you haven't seen it, the show is set in a medieval/fantasy land based loosely (very, very loosely) on classical Greek mythology. From what I've been able to glean from the episode and a half that I forced myself to watch, Xena used to be head of an army that pillaged and ravaged several villages. Now she's "reformed" and, with her blonde plaything, Gabrielle, wanders the countryside fighting evil and righting wrongs, mainly through the timehonored method of bashing in the head of anyone who disagrees with her.

I really had in mind a story where Xena spanks Gabrielle, but that would have required watching the show a few more times, to get the characters down, and there's some sacrifices I'm not willing to make. :-> So I came up with this as an alternative.

What follows is a work of fantasy intended for an adult audience that enjoys stories about spanking. If you don't fit all these categories, please find another newsgroup.


Francesca and Cordelia knelt side-by-side, weeding their village's vegetable garden. The summer sun beat down on the two sixteen-year-old girls, deepening the tan on their already bronzed skin.

Cordelia leaned back, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "Boy, my father sure has been a grouch lately," she complained.

"Mine, too," Francesca agreed. "He gets this way every year." Both girls knew the reason why; King Simon's tax collector would pay his annual visit within the next two weeks. The prospect of parting with a substantial portion of their hard-earned income caused short tempers throughout the village.

"I wish Xena were here," Cordelia sighed. "She'd chase those tax collectors clear to the next district." The girls exchanged smiles, recalling the tales they'd heard of how Xena and her companion, Gabrielle, had battled (and won!) against King Simon's tax collectors on behalf of several villages. The smiles turned to frowns, though, as the two remembered that Xena was currently in far-off Ithaca, several hundred miles from them. There'd be no tax relief there.

Cordelia bent back to her task, but Francesca remained upright, staring at the sky with a far-away look on her face. Then she turned back to her workmate. "Cordelia ... maybe Xena can be here, after all!"

"What do you mean, Francesca?" Cordelia responded, wondering if her friend had been in the sun too long. "There's no way Xena could get back from Ithaca in time!"

"No, but ... we could pretend to be Xena and Gabrielle."

Cordelia stared in disbelief. "Think about it," Francesca continued. "I'm blonde, like Gabrielle. You've got dark hair, like Xena. We can dress up like them, and surprise the tax collectors when they come through the clearing in the forest. One look at us, and they'll run clear back to the capital with their tails between their legs!"

"But ... where will we get the armor and weapons?"

Francesca thought for a moment. "I know Menelaus and Peleus," apprentices at the tannery and armory, respectively. "We can get them to help us. They'd do anything for me." The boys proved this true on numerous previous occasions.

"Francesca, Xena fights with a sword. I've never even touched a sword. I don't know how to use one."

"You won't have to actually fight them, Cordelia! Just threatening those cowards will be enough."

"Won't the tax collectors know Xena's in Ithaca, too?"

"Oh, come on, Cordelia! They work for the government. How smart can they be?"

The more Francesca talked, the better the idea sounded. The capper came when Francesca reminded Cordelia what heroes they'd be for chasing the tax collectors away. The idea of the village's gratitude finally swayed Cordelia.

The two girls spent most of their free time for the next two weeks preparing their escapade. Francesca easily secured the cooperation of Menelaus and Peleus in providing appropriate outfits and weapons: a sword for Cordelia/Xena and a staff for Francesca/Gabrielle. Cordelia endlessly practiced the speech Francesca wrote for her, trying to sound like a confident Warrior Princess instead of a nervous 16-year-old.

Finally, the fateful day came. The girls donned their costumes and, weapons in hand, headed for the clearing in the woods, along the main road to the village. There they settled in to wait for the tax collectors' party. Time passed slowly, then the girls heard the unmistakable sound of horses approaching.

They hurriedly concealed themselves behind a large tree and peered out into the clearing. Before long, a half-dozen riders entered the open area, led by a man whose thick black beard didn't quite conceal a scar running down the left side of his face. Their red-and-black livery left no doubt these were King Simon's tax collectors.

Cordelia waited until the riders were halfway across the clearing, then stepped into the center of the road, raising her sword high. "Halt!" she called, trying to keep her voice from breaking. The lead rider reined in his horse and raised his hand, bringing the rest of the party to a halt.

"I am Xena, Warrior Princess," she said, swinging the sword in a menacing arc (and managing not to drop it). "Begone, you varlets! You'll collect no taxes here! Now begone, before I split your skulls like rotten pumpkins!" She finished with a flourish, pointing her sword directly at the riders. Francesca stood a few paces behind her, staff ready.

The tax collectors sat silently for a few moments, then their leader slid off his horse and slowly approached Cordelia. She shakily stood her ground, trying to keep her sword in place, as her confidence waned somewhat. This wasn't in the script!

The man approached to within a few feet of the girl, then, in one smooth motion, whipped his sword from its scabbard and clashed it against hers. Cordelia's weapon dropped from her numbed fingers. Before she could move, the man put his sword directly under her chin, its point against her throat.

Cordelia stood stock-still, not daring to even breathe. The man ran his left hand along his scar. "Xena herself gave me this," he informed Cordelia. "I don't know who you are, but you're definitely not her." He regarded her for a few seconds, then said, "There's only one proper way to deal with the likes of you." He sheathed his sword, then abruptly stepped forward, put his arm around Cordelia's waist from behind, and scooped her up, her head facing rearward. Easily holding the kicking, squirming girl in place, he turned back to the rest of his party. "Lieutenant Calisto, would you please handle that one?" he requested, pointing to Francesca. "My pleasure, Captain Aias," responded one of the riders, spurring his horse forward.

Francesca turned pale as the horse approached. She dropped her staff and ran, Lieutenant Calisto in close pursuit. A few moments and a brief struggle later, he rode back into the clearing with the girl draped across the horse in front of him, her kicking and struggling to no avail.

In the meantime, Captain Aias carried Cordelia to a nearby fallen log, sat down, and pulled her face-forward across his lap. "This is what happens to rebels in King Simon's realm," he stated, flipped her short skirt up, and reached into the waistband of her panties. Cordelia, struggling furiously, flung an arm behind her to interfere, but the captain caught it and pinned it behind her back, meanwhile roughly yanking her panties down below her bottom cheeks. He then raised his leather-gloved hand and brought it down, firmly and sharply, across her rump.

SMACK! Cordelia yelped loudly as the sound echoed through the clearing. She heard a similar squeal from Francesca. Raising her head, Cordelia saw that Lieutenant Calisto, while keeping the girl across his horse, had bared her bottom and was applying his gloved palm to her plump backside. The rest of the tax collectors moved closer, obviously enjoying the show.

Captain Aias swatted Cordelia again, reminding her she had no sympathy to spare for Francesca's plight. SMACK! Again and again, his hard hand impacted her delicate fanny. Each spank brought an outcry to Cordelia's lips and additional sting to her bottom. Before long, she was crying freely, both from pain and humiliation.

As her spanking went on, Cordelia dully realized she was only hearing the sound of one spank. Had Lieutenant Calisto finished with Francesca? She looked up again, seeing this was not the case. Instead, the two men were spanking the girls in perfect rhythm, their hands striking the girls' rumps simultaneously.

The dual punishment went on for quite some time, until Captain Aias finally called a halt. Cordelia laid quietly, waiting to be released, hoping to be able to withdraw to soothe both her wounded feelings and her burning behind in private. Instead, the captain wrapped his arms around her again and stood up, hoisting her in the air. Cordelia looked around and saw Francesca still laying across Calisto's horse, her bottom a bright, solid red. She'd kicked her panties completely off.

Captain Aias carried Cordelia over to his horse and threw her, face down, across the saddle, then mounted behind her. He steadied her in place, then drew a dagger from his belt. "Looks like we have one little additional adjustment to make," he said. Cordelia froze as she felt the dagger inserted between her thigh and panties. The captain neatly sliced her panties off, letting them fall into the dust by the roadside.

His task complete, Captain Aias resheathed his dagger and turned to the rest of the party. "Now, let's go collect some taxes," he said, spurring his horse in the direction of the village. Cordelia's embarrassment redoubled as she contemplated the prospect of being carried into her village in this undignified position, her upturned, scarlet backside on public display.

Lieutenant Calisto moved his horse into position beside Captain Aias. Looking up, Cordelia found herself nose to nose with Francesca. "Great plan, Francesca," she muttered to her friend. "How was I supposed to know?" Francesca hissed back. "Quiet, you two," ordered Captain Aias, and the girls yelped again as each received another thunderous smack.

All too soon, the party reached the edge of the forest and started moving through the fields surrounding the village. Fieldhand after fieldhand looked on in disbelief as the tax collectors rode by, then dropped their farm tools and followed the riders into the village square. Word quickly spread, and quite a crowd had gathered by the time Captain Aias and his followers rode into the square and brought their mounts to a halt.

The crowd buzzed with consternation at the sight of the two freshly spanked girls bent across the tax collectors' horses. Captain Aias raised his hand, bringing a hush to the villagers. "Does anyone here know these two?" he asked, indicating Francesca and Cordelia. After a moment's delay, the girls' fathers stepped forward. "Sir, that is my daughter," said Cordelia's father, indicating his offspring. "And that is mine," echoed Francesca's.

Captain Aias addressed his next remarks to the crowd in general. "These two accosted my party in the woods earlier, attempting to prevent us from collecting this year's taxes. Normally, such rebellion would be punished by doubling the amount due." Cordelia cringed as she heard angry noises from the crowd. This certainly wasn't the "heroes' welcome" she was anticipating!

"However," the captain continued, "as the King's representative, I am empowered to waive any additional taxes, and I am willing to do so in this case ... if the following conditions are met."

The crowd fell silent, waiting to hear the captain's demands. "First: that you immediately pay this year's levy, in full." Seeing no objection, he went on. "Second: that there be no further attempts to hinder us in the execution of our lawful duties." Now Captain Aias fixed his gaze directly on the fathers, standing before him. "And, finally, that you assure me these two will be sufficiently punished for their misdeeds."

"I agree, sir," Cordelia's father said. "It shall be done, sir," Francesca's father added. Cordelia groaned. Her father worked in the village stables and had access to all sorts of leather straps and horsewhips. She cringed inwardly at the thought of what her "sufficient punishment" would be like.

"Very well," the captain replied. "Lieutenant Calisto, release your prisoner." The officer put his hand on Francesca's shoulder and unceremoniously dumped her off his horse. The unfortunate girl landed squarely on her bottom. She sat on the ground, howling in pain, as her father hurried to her side. "Quiet!" he commanded, helping her up by her ear. "I'll give you something to cry about, as soon as I get you home!" The crowd parted as he marched Francesca off, one hand firmly clenching her ear, the other swatting her rump.

Captain Aias put his hands under Cordelia's armpits and, more merciful than his counterpart, lowered her to the ground and her father's waiting arms. He gave her one last look, then turned back to his business with the village elders as Cordelia's father led her away. The girl swallowed hard as she realized they were heading for the stables, not her home.

When they reached their destination, though, Cordelia's father surprised her by gathering her into his arms and giving her a long hug. "Cordelia," he asked, "are you all right?" "Yes, Father," she answered, bursting into fresh tears. "Good," he responded, then, holding her at arm's length, gave her a long lecture about how she'd endangered her own life and the security of the village.

Cordelia listened silently, her stinging backside adding to the weight of her father's words. Despite her current pain, she realized that Captain Aias could have done far worse to her village -- and to her.

The lecture over, Cordelia's father finished with "Now. Promise me you'll never do anything this foolish again." "I promise, Father," Cordelia sniffled. "Excellent. Let's just make sure you don't forget," he replied, reaching for a long leather strap. He then directed his daughter to bend herself over a bale of hay and raise her skirt. As the strap bit into her tender flesh, Cordelia vowed to herself that she'd truly learned her lesson. From now on, she'd leave the acts of heroism to the true Warrior Princess.