Accurate Misinterpretations (Tangerine and BoomJill)

[Tangerine]

There wasn't anyone else who could possibly fill a tight pair of leggings better than; thus, she didn't need to wear a crown to make others notice that the princess was in town. A spontaneous visit, that wasn't aimless. She intended to have a word with a certain artist who resided there. The sculptor of the new statue in one of the hallways in the castle. A statue of her really. It was a tradition of sorts, commissioning such craft.

Somehow, she had managed to ditch the knights assigned for her protection, who sometimes felt like they were attached to her royal buttocks, strutting wherever her hips swayed towards. This time though, she had found a way to break that stubborn connection at the end of her mushroom related studies in the wilderness, allowing the princess to stride alone.

“Hm.” Stopping before a signpost, she tried to make out which path to follow. “Where that atelier might be?” Well it wasn't a big town. Certainly, not as big as the venturous blonde’s distinct-

“Bottom,” a resident called out from behind her.

“Huh?”

“At the bottom of the hill. That way,” the helpful townsperson said, pointing to the relevant direction.

Once there, she knocked at the door in an urgent way that reflected her frustration. Yea, there was some frustration. The statue captured her likeness well. Except for certain regions. Like, the rear of her graceful frame. Well she had convinced herself that there were some uncalled artistic interpretations back there, which were broadening in nature.

Her riding boots clacked as she went inside. Apart from her boots, she wore a blue accented tunic over a white shirt. “Good afternoon. I trust you have a minute?” she quickly asked. “For this investigation about…” she paused to think about the proper way to address the so-called misinterpretation. “Well, about some accidental artistic touches to a statue commissioned by the Hyrule Castle?”

[BoomJill]

As Zelda comes to the door of the artist's workshop, she sees a sign hanging from the top that reads; 'Work In Progress, Do Not Disturb! written in fancy cursive. Had Zelda decided to knock anyway, she would have heard the familiar voice of the woman who hired her.


"I am with a client, I'll have you know! Come back later," a haughty, high-pitched tone exclaims as she hears the door frantically knocked upon. Once the door opens, a dramatic sigh of frustration is heard from the lobby as Zelda walks inside. "Zis better be important," she growls as she stands up from her stool and squints towards the front end.

The artist in question, Sophia, was a woman in her early 30s, who wore a white turtleneck with a black apron worn overtop, covered in paint splotches and chunks of marble from her work; miraculously, her tight green pants managed to stay spotless. Her long, brunette locks were tied back in a ponytail, all but her bangs which hung just above her wide, green eyes. She was currently painting a picture of a middle-aged man, dressed in fancy clothes- perhaps he was the town mayor? In any case, both he and her dropped their jaws when the princess stepped into view.

"Wh-.. ze princess?! I had no idea you were set to come in! Ah, but I am working with someone..." Just as it seemed she might turn the blonde away, the mayor quickly stood up and shook his head. He makes his way towards the door. He steps around Zelda and isn't shy about letting his gaze trail to the princess's thick, leggings-clad bottom. A quiet 'damn' was muttered beneath a clearing of his throat as he took his leave.

".. Hmh. Well, we are lucky that my client iz so understanding," Sophia huffs. Undoing the back of her apron and letting it fall to the floor, she walks towards her desk and leans her butt against it to look at the princess with a quirked brow. "Accidental.. artistic touches? Non-non, that cannot be! When sculpting someone as important as you, I would never! It's an exact likeness.. from top to bottom."

[Tangerine]

More of a scholar than an artist. She would describe herself as such. And would kinda describe artists as a prissy bunch prone to antics. Everytime busy. Or pretending to be so. This one did seem to be in the middle of something. Painting a smartly dressed gentleman. A portrait perhaps? A 2d art form that he couldn't suffer from the exaggerations she herself did as a client.

“Well, it happens to be important,” she claimed, flipping her long golden locks. She didn't consider her unannounced presence as an interruption. It also wasn't her intention to hinder the progress of another client’s order. But then again, it would be awkward to discuss the specifications of her body in front of the mayor either. So it was convenient that he decided to head off.

“Sorry sir. However, it is a royal matter,” she nodded as he did so. It didn't occur to her that she might be checked out by him. She just thought he must be grumpy that he was leaving early, not that he was impressed by the new set of spheres in the workshop that he fleetingly eyed.

“Until you sweep your brush in an arc wider than necessary,” she talked back as Sophie mentioned the guy's understanding nature.

“The top part is remarkably fulfilling and true to life. In fact, I can hardly fathom how those fine details like individual strands and corners of the lips are chiselled,” she offered some praise, which wasn't forced. “The bottom, however,” she put a hand on the side of her wide hips, instinctively rubbing it while talking about it, “as in the actual bottom area, well,” the princess looked away for a moment, her eyes fluttering and shifting. “It's not tapered enough,” she ended up suggesting. “Perhaps when you understandably couldn't visualise that part well, you based it on,” she looked at the artist, observing her leaning body a little, “on someone else?”

[BoomJill]

Sophie purses her lips to the side as Zelda begins to critique her, hinting at some annoyance beginning to brew once the wide-hipped princess mentions a wider brush arc. Just what was this woman referring to? She was no stranger to having a customer complain, but to have one barge in when she was working with another was a first. An entitled brat, if she had ever seen one.

".. Ze bottom area required-.. tapering? I was told to make ze sculpture one-to-one," Sophia sternly explains. Once Zelda mentions her taking inspiration from another body, with the slightest inclination that she may have used her own plump bottom as a reference, the artist snapped. Those green hues were quick to narrow.

"Hah?! You just wait one second," she clicks her tongue. The artist spun right around and leaned over her desk, frantically pulling open the drawer on the opposite side to paw through the papers within. In doing so, her well-endowed bottom was propped up. For a moment, it may have seemed like the artist may have actually used herself as a reference! After a few seconds of hip-wiggles and paper-rummaging, she'd soon withdraw a clipped stack of papers, adorned with the Royal Family's stamp of approval.

"Ah-ha! Here we go," she exclaims as she stands back up straight. Whilst going through the pages, she walks up to Zelda. Had the blonde not tried to move, Sophia would casually pluck out a sheet of paper from the stack and kneel beside her. Upon closer inspection, the papers were all the proportion sketches Sophia had made before sculpting. As for the page she singled out, the sketch was of Zelda from behind; specifically, her lower half.

Immaculately detailed, the black-and-white sketch didn't miss a thing. Zelda's thick curves, her bottom-hugging leggings, and even her rump's softness seemed to be conveyed. Had the blonde worn underwear, there would even be details of her pantylines. Holding it up side-by-side with Zelda's rump, Sophia hums and looks between them.

"Hmmmm.. non, my sketch and ze sculpture are accurate," she muses. Her free hand comes up to prod the princess's bottom, firmly enough so the tip of her finger sinks into her right cheek. "Upon closer inspection, I fear I may not have made it big enough! Perhaps instead of tapering, you meant to ask for an expansion..?"

[Tangerine]

It wouldn't have been that bad had the princess trimmed down her hips a little. Until she did though, and summoned some more athleticism over her figure, the statue in question did a fine job representing her. Not quite ready to admit that it did, she naturally stuck to her claim. “Yes, but that's more of a one and a quarter to one.”

Royalty or not, this Sophia gal seemed to be too keen on standing behind her work. When she turned around, it allowed the princess to witness some particular similarities she had in common with the statue. More so when she decided to bend over. At first glance, and after further glancing as well, it wasn't that unlikely that the artist could model for any big bottomed statue. Zelda didn't stop herself from letting out a chuckle at that. “Yeah. That's definitely ze tush,” she quietly said.

She didn't know what all that paperwork was for. The official documents that permitted Sophia to study, depict, and illustrate her? The contract? Or some sketches? Yeah, that seemed to be it. “Huh?” The princess looked down at her as the artist did some comparisons. “What are you up to?“ She slightly turned to make it easier. “Shouldn't you have done this before sculpting though?” There was kinda a tingling sensation to it too, having someone studying her body, which she didn't hate. There were indeed a pair of knickers underneath her leggings. As the princess, she couldn't have walked about without wearing any after all. Were there any unfashionable lines showing through the tight garment? Well, people weren't supposed to investigate it so closely to say there were in the first place.

If the sketches told the size of it, how much a finger sank into her flesh hinted at the supplesness. A quality a statue obviously didn't possess, while she had plenty.

“Bigger? Huuh!” The princess turned. This time, to face the artist. At the back, she defensively cupped her bum cheeks. “Those drawings obviously need to be revised to better convey my humility,” she said. “Promptly at that.” Nodding, Zelda leaned down to take her from the wrist. She began tugging then, towards the table the daring artist liked to bend over so much.

[BoomJill]

Truthfully, it would have been easy for the artist to reduce the size of Zelda's depicted backside. Revisions were a part of the contract she signed off on when taking the job, and Sophia had done so for many other clients... but how Zelda asked made this not a matter of the job, but of her pride as an artist!

"Your thighnes-- err, you're highness! These are ze sketches I referenced when sculpting your likeness, so-.." Her words were cut off as Zelda abruptly turned away, and cupped their backside as if shielding it from the artist's scrutinizing gaze. She frustratedly huffs as she starts to stand back up. Just as she's about to speak-

"H-hey! Unhand me, you spoiled blueblood!" Sophia exclaims as her wrist is seized, forcing her to drop the sketch stack and march towards the desk. By this point, what little patience she had for the blonde had vanished. Words had failed. The two were at an impasse. Earlier, Sophia bent over the desk to try and convince Zelda to change her mind... and shortly, the inverse for the very same reason.

"Ohhh, zis is about your humility? I think a different kind of revision iz in order," Sophia sternly states as the two reach the desk. Her free hand suddenly hooks into the waistband of Zelda's leggings and gives it a sharp, upward tug to force the princess forward. The fabric strains against that already-hugged rump to outline it more, though the pull was to get Zelda off-balance and on her tiptoes. If this was enough to make Zelda release her other hand, she'd use it to push the princess down over the desk, her feet slightly off of the ground with her hands and head over the other side. And, most importantly, propping that heavy bottom that Zelda was so defensive of nice and high.

"I will convey zat humility of yours..." One hand was kept at the center of Zelda's back, keeping her in place while the other wound back with an open palm. "Promptly." Her hand then swung down to find Zelda's hindquarters, greeting it square in the center with a firm, cheek-quaking SMACK!

[Tangerine]

Shorter and proportionally wider next to other statues, jutting out more distinctly as well. It surely stood out in the hall. Not for the reasons she would like though. Perhaps her father was right. She should have opted for a dress instead of her dear adventuring outfit, which was supposed to make her look like a more down to earth lady, instead of the goddess she presumably was and stressed by its heavy responsibilities.

“You’ll be serving the kingdom by carrying out these essential changes,” Zelda claimed, trying to justify her sculpted insecurities. She continued her adamant march to the table. Hopefully, the artist wouldn't take long to come up with a new proper sketch once she was seated on her generous bum.

“This is hardly about my bloodline!” she ensured on the way. Just a client who wished for slight alterations. Her leggings kept her legs mobile and comfy as her accidentally mentioned thighs smoothly brushed against each other while enclosed in them. There was suddenly this unusual strain in the fabric though, making the crotch of the garment…

“Eep!” A shrill yelp came from the princess. The edges of her royal underwear became more pronounced as her bottoms rushed up between her cheeks, getting into her crack. Since it wasn't an awfully shallow crevice, the fabric could dig rather deeply depending on the intensity of the pull. And the intent of the puller.

In favour of holding her crotch, she let Sophia go. “Oh no-” The table shook when she flopped over it. Pens and brushes rolling off, loose papers flying away. Small objects making room in short, for something bigger to work on.

Her outsoles hovering right above the floor, “Unacceptable!” Zelda called out. It was more unacceptable given that she was the bloody princess. However, after talking about the supposed irrelevance of her royal blood, she didn't want to contradict herself so quickly by mentioning that. “You certainly don't need me on the worktable to work on a new sketch,” she suggested.

Chin resting on the tabletop and bum raised like a generous art spare used by artists to study light and shadows. For a princess, and anyone else for that matter, it was surely a humility enhancing position to be in. It probably wasn't a good sign that Sophia punned about it. “That's not what I meant,” the noble client said. At the same time, there was something oddly thrilling in all this.

The response of her buttocks was rather prompt when the artist’s hand landed on her. The heavy buns demonstrated their bouncy traits, “Oop!” the owner of them yelping. It was a clear revelation how exactly the brunette craftswoman intended to deal with this unsatisfied client. Sporting a frown of disbelief, she looked back accordingly. “You would not dare.”

[BoomJill]

While the intent of the pull wasn't primarily to cause Zelda's leggings to ride up her crack and squeeze her womanhood, the fact it was used to get the blonde up and over the desk meant that she had pulled hard. By the time she had her client flopped across the table, the blonde's leggings, which were already snug, were bunched up those cheeks and left little to the imagination.

Paying no mind to the brushes and pens that fell to the floor, she allowed the leggings to thwap back into place before using that same hand to give Zelda a hearty smack to the bottom.

"Au contraire, princess, I very much would! Seeing as you insist on me getting your proportions right, I shall study you thoroughly..!" And thoroughly, she did. That first smack was but one of many. Meeting the princess's frown with a stern squint, Sophia shamelessly put more weight into keeping Zelda pinned whilst reeling her hand back for more.

Just as the first, an open palm soundly cracks upon Zelda's heavy backside; the leggings muffling an otherwise reverberating 'smack' that dully echoed through the artist's workshop. Two more followed, gracing each of Zelda's cheeks with a hearty smack, first left them right, with the latter ending with a squeeze that filled the gaps between Sophia's fingers with leggings-clad plumpness.

"Look at all of zis heft, yet you imply I made a mistake?! Foolishness," she exclaims, shaking the rump around in her hand before releasing it, only to follow up with another wound-back swat that inched Zelda a bit further across the table. "Apologize now, lest I paint your bottom red!"

[Tangerine]

To save herself from this funny situation, she supposed she could have done a bit more than merely lying there like a tempting palm fruit and occasionally talking back. Meandering around the wilderness, what she had been doing before this confrontation, could be rather exhausting though. As a result, making her unable to match the artist’s willpower to pull herself out of this situation. Yea. That was the reason she was quick to accept her fate over the desk. Totally.

“I am positive there must be more proper ways to study me,” she suggested. Ironically, it was indeed a convenient position to examine her behind. Surely, her precious bottom was quite accentuated. More than necessary, really. Well, even more when the artist pressed down on her back to lift the other end like a seesaw.

It wouldn't be entirely correct to say that her leggings did nothing to protect her bottom, regardless of how much they thinned out across her stretched hips. A warm layer to cushion the artist’s fury. “Oww.” Well, to some extent.

The same jolt of sting travelled through the princess twice, originating from a different cheek each time. It made her heart pound faster. Why was this kinda exciting again? This utterly disrespectful act of having her backside whacked?

Under the pressure, her pliant flesh bulge outwards between the five digits resting on her cheek. It was a firm squeeze. And it felt as bad as a strong, passionate hug. Which usually didn't feel bad. She let out a soft breath accordingly, managing to keep it inaudible.

Since her bottom was a part of her, a significant part at that, she could clearly feel it wobbling about at the back. The motion supported Sophia's accusations regarding her bottom.

“What? That's not fair. Of course it'll look like that when you shake it,” she protested the imposed shimmying of her rear. “O-hoh!” A louder yelp came then, as the following slap was strong enough to raise her dangling legs an inch or so higher. However, she wasn’t any closer to changing her mind about the size of her bottom. “Apologise for what exactly? For providing constructive criticism on my own statue? Surely, as a client, I have the right to disregard your subjective liberties and insist on the specifications of my thoroughly modest bum,” she argued, the last bit making her smile.

[BoomJill]

Sophia, while short-tempered and quick to defend her art, wasn't one to use such heavy-handed methods to get her point across. She loved to bluster and bark, yet was just as quick to back down if things got too heated. And yet here she was, pulling the princess of the kingdom over her desk for a thorough, and lengthy paddling upon their wobbly hindquarters. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision that she had little intention of delivering. Just a handful of smacks to make the blonde admit that her butt was big and fat. Alas, not only was there a lack of pleading, but Zelda wasn't even trying to squirm her way out of it!

"Zis girl.." Sophia huffs under her breath. Only one answer came to the artist's mind; Zelda must have assumed that the artist wouldn't push things any further! Her bluff was called, and now she was faced with an ultimatum. She could sheepishly withdraw and allow Zelda to walk out of her with a slightly sore rump and a guarantee that the sculpture's lower half would be downsized. Or, she could double down. All it took was a sly glance back at Zelda's propped-up bottom, taking a moment to admire the caboose that seemed to be built for a firm palm to make her choice.

"Feh! Is zat so? Perhaps a closer look iz in order," Sophia offers, punctuated with a few more quick slaps that sent that bottom a'wobbling to and fro. A noisy scratching of her painted fingernails fills the air as she drags her fingers up Zelda's left cheek, only to hook into the elastic of the blonde's leggings again. As easy as it was to hike the malleable fabric up the deep valley 'twixt her plump cheeks, the reverse was even easier.

Fwip! A sudden tug downward reeled the waistband over Zelda's pale rump, past her thighs until it stretched between the girl's thighs. An amused chuckle passes the artist's lips as she reels her hand back, all whilst getting a good look at the 'modest bum' the princess was so insistent on having.

"Tut-tut! Seeing this rear of yours first-hand, your criticism is anything but constructive-!" She exclaims, only to greet Zelda's partially exposed rump with the first of many smacks! Her palm meets the bare flesh of the blonde's rump for the first time, earning a satisfying 'crack' of her palm that reverberates for a moment. "It only serves to distract from an already-distractingly-large bottom... that is far from modest!" Smack, swat, smack! Three more claps of her palm against Zelda's thick, panty-clad bottom to drive her point home. "I shall smack your fat buttocks throughout the rest of my shift if I must. Painting is part of ze job after all, and right now I see a bottom in need of a fresh coat of red!"