The Septa's Revenge - Part 4 (F/F)

 [Continued from Part 3]

It was this scene that raced through Queen Margaery's mind as she contemplated her choices. As daunting as a switching from the Septa seemed, it was much preferred to something like that.

With a deep breath she rose and faced the door. Outside she thought she could hear faint footsteps. People were out and about. Taking one more deep breath she opened the door and slipped out. And then she started running.

Down the hall she ran. She never thought she could run so fast but then again she was never so fearful or humiliated. Utterly naked she streaked through the halls. The Gardens were not too far away but today they seemed so distant. Far up ahead she could see some others milling about. With a flash of inspiration she grabbed her thick auburn hair and pulled it around her face, hopefully granting her deniable anonymity. 

She passed the group of shocked nobles and continued on ignoring their exclamations of surprise and pleasure. She heard a few coarse comments about her youthful breasts and her now pink bottom but they encouraged her rather than discouraged. For evidently her ploy with the hair was working. No one really knew who she was.

Breathlessly she arrived at the Garden Sanctum. This was a special garden area in the upper floors of the castle. Specially designed for the higher levels but with an open roof to allow in sun and rain it was a beautiful area with trees and flowers for the highest nobility and royal family. Unfortunately, there were some nobles in this area walking about in discussion or enjoying the respite from castle business. Conversation died off as she entered as a naked girl was for one, unusual, and second, even though she had her face covered, everyone must know she was nobility because who else would dare enter. 

Her heart beat rapidly from the running and her face burned hot with embarrassment. She told herself they couldn’t know she was the Queen but then again, how many among the noble women had auburn hair…

Desperately she glanced up at the trees looking for suitable switches. She briefly thought to grab any three branches and return but she knew if she returned with anything less than suitable the consequences could be even worse. She might be sent back, this time through a gauntlet of nobles. Or worse yet, made to crawl back! No, no. She must satisfy the Septa with her selections.

The nobles in the garden were being studiously cautious in their glances. They didn’t know what game was going on and didn’t want to overly stare. But at the same time keenly curious to view the scene as it unfolded. While whispering amongst themselves they pretended to continue their business while at the same time slowly approaching for closer looks.

Tears in her eyes Margaery looked around. She was able to snatch one fine looking switch from a low branch on one tree and leapt to grab another from another. But she was desperately holding her hair around her face with one hand and the switches with another. The third best one was too high for her to reach and she couldn’t climb the tree with one arm! In a comical fashion she jumped as high as she could but just couldn’t reach it.

Her face burned hotter as she felt her breasts bounce about with each jump. She must be putting on quite a show for the nobles.

Suddenly she realized someone grabbed her and was lifting her up.

“Well now, young lady,” she heard. “It seems you’ve been sent on quite an unpleasant task.” It was the gardener! She felt his coarse hands on her rump as he lifted her to reach the branch. “Seems like your mistress has sent you for some switches? Those three will do nicely although you probably won’t be happy about that.” he said plainly.

She grabbed the third switch and broke it off.

“Thank you,” she whispered breathlessly. She had her switches! But she couldn’t run off yet. The other nobles had circled closer and she was afraid to run through them. The only path ran past the gardener but he had taken the switches and she used her other arm in a desperate attempt to cover herself but with one hand holding her hair she couldn’t do much other than crouch and cover.

“Come over here now and I’ll help you strip those switches,” he said kindly. Helplessly she followed him as fast as she could but he was ambling along at a regular pace. She would have preferred to run off but as he had the switches she had no choice to follow.

Meanwhile the nobles were getting quite a good look at her body and she was sure her blush was creeping down her milky white neckline down to her bosom.

“Looks like she’s already had a good spanking..” she heard someone snicker. 

“Aye,” said another. “She’ll be dancing again as soon as those switches are ready. I wonder what House she belongs.”

“You don’t think..” she couldn’t hear the rest of this response but her heart raced as whispers of her identity grew.

Meanwhile, the gardener had taken his knife and stripped the leaves and branches off the switches. He held them out.

“Here you are, milady,” he said. “I don’t know what you’ve done but rest assured, it’ll hurt like the fires of R'hllor but you will live,” he gave a laugh. “You might wish you’d die but it’ll be over soon enough. Now be off or your mistress will be vexed.” With that he thrust the switches in her hand and gave her bottom a swat sending her scampering off.

Margaery ran off freshly embarrassed at this treatment. What was worse? To be known as a Queen sent to fetch switches for a thrashing? Or treated like a maid to be punished? But she barely had time to think as she raced away from the nobles, their unblinking eyes heavy with lust.

Down the hall she ran, passing some other shocked courtiers. At this point she didn’t care or see much else. Her entire focus was getting back to the royal chambers, hopefully with no one about. Unfortunately she couldn’t do anything about the Guard but they had seen her leave and must know who it was. After all, it was just her and Septa Nyla who had jet black hair.

Finally she slammed the door shut. Inside the room, she collapsed to her knees. Her lungs burned with each breath as she was unaccustomed to physical activity. She had just taken a few breaths when she saw the Septa’s clogged feet come into view. Looking up she saw an open hand thrust at her.

She struggled to her knees and bowed her head, holding the switches out in front of her. She felt Septa Nyla take them from her. She heard Nyla walk about, swishing the switches in the air. Hiss, hiss, hiss. The sound was frightful. The branches sounded sturdy and supple. Inside she quailed at what would happen soon.

“Acceptable,” Septa Nyla said emotionlessly. She held the switches back out to Margaery. “Bind them,” she ordered.

Margaery stood up and took the switches to the side of the room. On the shelf there was some string and she bundled the three switches together and started wrapping the string around the base.

The Septa stood silently watching her work. She wound and wound the string, trying to take as long as possible. But at the same time she didn’t want to be accused of dallying. Her eyes watched as the string turned around and around, slowly forming a handle on the base of the three switches. The gardener had done a good job. Each one was the same length as the others and they were all cleaned of nubs and leaves.

When it was done she considered wrapping string around the entire handle again but Septa Nyla cleared her throat and held out her hand. There was no more delaying. Margaery handed over the switches.

Septa Nyla allowed herself the briefest of smiles. She looked at the Queen with great satisfaction. Margaery was the antithetical representation of the teachings of the High Sparrow. Noble blood as being “better” than commoners. Ridiculous. The way Margaery flaunted her  beauty and youth also angered Nyla. It wasn’t jealousy that drove Nyla. No, she told herself, not at all. She wasn’t jealous of Margaery’s beauty or youth. She  was merely opposed to it being used to elevate Margaery among others. To set her as superior. It wasn’t jealousy she kept thinking.

The fury in her grew. She grabbed Margaery by the ear, dragged her to the chaise lounge and threw her over. “Hands down!” she sternly ordered. “Feet down!” Impatiently she grabbed the Queen’s waist and adjusted her position. As strong as she was she soon had the Queen in the position she wanted. 

To be honest, Nyla had been in this position herself many times before. During her training, acolytes were thrashed for the slightest infraction much like the Queen was now. This was where she learned to bundle switches in threes for the greatest effect. Oh yes. She had her share of thrashings across her bottom.

Margaery was frozen in fear. She felt extremely vulnerable in this position and it was wholly unfamiliar. Naked, bottom elevated across the back of the lounge. Stern religious Septa behind her with a wicked bundle of switches. She could only wait.

The Septa stepped to the side as she measured the distance and angle to apply the first stroke.

“You have admitted to the sin of lust. Of impure thoughts. Penance demands you be consigned to the fires of salvation. Yet we are merciful. As you are but a child you shall be punished like a child. These fires are metaphorical and instead shall be raised by my hand,” she intoned.

Then she slashed down with the first stroke and was rewarded by Margaery’s cry. Welts immediately raised on the bottom before her and a redness spread from the scarlet lines. 

Margaery kicked and cried out. The pain was so precise compared to the brush before. But besides the lines of fire the burning spread.

The Septa waited briefly to enjoy the first stroke but then continued. Swish, swish, swish. Full arm swings brought the whistling switches down. Soon Margaery was bucking and screaming into the cushions. Even during the thrashing she tried to minimize alerting the Guards or anyone outside. But it wasn’t easy. True to the Septa’s words, her bottom was burning like the fires of salvation.  Before long she was practically crawling over the lounge in an attempt to escape the switches.

Nyla stopped. This wouldn’t do. She couldn’t get enough strokes in as she wanted and she didn’t want to keep dragging the girl back. She strode over to the antechamber. 

“You two. In here,” she ordered.

Two of Queen Margaery’s ladies in waiting scurried inside, bowing deeply. They were both  deathly afraid.

“Yes Septa Nyla,” they said.

“Come here. Hold her here,” Nyla ordered as she rearranged the weeping Queen onto the back of the lounge again. One maid was instructed her hold the Queen down about her waist and back. The other was to hold her arms.

The Septa started again. Arm raised high, coming down quickly. Up, down, up down. Now she was able to work. The maids struggled to restrain the Queen who was bucking and kicking from the thrashing. But two of them were able to hold her enough that she remained over the chaise lounge. The welts spread across her cheeks as Nyla continued. Soon her bottom was covered in welts. A few specks of blood showed.

The maids were crying in their duties as well as the Queen. Finally it was over. Septa Nyla wiped the sweat from her brow. It wasn’t easy work purifying sins. But she was glad to do it. With a wave of her hand she released the ladies and they moved to help the queen kneel before her again.

Nyla knelt also. “Let us pray,” she said.