Tamers of Everlain: A Firm Hand Conquers the Wicked Land [closed for Yhorm]

[Strictdaddy1]

The son of Dalasin took the vials, pushing them into a pouch as he gave a word of thanks. He returned his attention to the forested road, glancing around, listening to the wildlife and the wind, and glancing up occasionally to see if he could see the clouds through the trees. It was always important to be aware of one's surroundings when the bones had identified a problem.

When he heard the young woman mutter, he glanced over at her and observed her posture: legs stretched out, elbows resting on the edges of the bench, and eyes staying skyward.

"Amber," he said, in the lightest of whispers, like the wind rustling through the leaves around them.

[Dungeon]

The sudden calling of her name caused the young woman to quickly sit up, eyes wide as she faced Tashir. It wasn't rare for Amber to daydream during times of stress. Whenever she was about to face something grave, or was just feeling unsure about something, she would just look back on better times. Of course, there had to be better ways to deal with such anxiety, but Amber figured that it was better than turning into a muttering, shivering, worthless sack on the battlefield. "Yes, Master?"

[Strictdaddy1]

"Without looking, what kinds of trees are to our left?" He asked, still a soft whisper to his voice, as if it were the most casual of questions. Of course, his eyes continued to dart left, right, down, and up; he used his large, ugly nose to sniff the humid, cold air; and he marked the chilly breeze with the feel of it on his cheeks.

[Dungeon]

Amber attempted to hide her "I'm Doomed" expression, but her fear was still obvious. She felt cornered, with a mere question Tashir had thrown her completely off. "I...um..." was all Amber could manage. She felt trapped, as if one wrong thought would land her in a world of agony. "I d-don't know, sir." She squeaked out, shrinking into her cloak, the cold becoming a distance second on her current list of threats.

[Strictdaddy1]

"Op! Op!" The Master Tamer uttered -- with no small amount of ostentation -- as he raised his chin when he spoke. The horses dutifully obeyed, coming to a halt. The theatrics (though Amber would not understand this part for many years to come; Tashir was a very good actor) continued when he turned -- with agonizing slowness -- to face his apprentice.

"You were daydreaming. Again. In a place we have just entered, where the bones have told us an unknown danger lurks. Where a trap could wait around any and every turn. Where I count on you to help me keep vigil and to be ready at a moment's notice. I have told you, more than once, that I do not care if you sing, drink to sodden drunkenness, or lay with any dirty farmhand we come across, so long as it is in a safe place. Those trees are birch," he scolded, his thick, calloused left index finer stabbing accusingly towards where she should have been looking; the happy coincidence that those particular trees made excellent switches hopefully adding to the lesson, "And 'I d-don't know, sir' is the worst possible answer you could have given. You are expected to watch, and to know. Put the potion box in back, on top of the herb crate; then aside with your cloak, down with your britches, and over my knee . . . Facing the trees you should have been looking at in the first place. Chin up, of course."

He knew such a posture would properly demean the girl, with her shins braced on the right side for support at the edge of the wagon, and her eyes focused upon what she should have been looking at in the first place. Coupled with her earlier sarcasm, she certainly had some discipline coming. In addition, it would hopefully cure her of her current lackadaisical behavior.

[Dungeon]

Amber lowered her head, cursing every single thing in existence. "Yes sir." She muttered, blushing profusely. A whirlwind of emotions swirled around her head as she slid her trousers down to her knees. The young woman scooted over to her master, leaning over his lap slowly. She hated this!

[Strictdaddy1]

The olive-skinned Master Tamer moved his hands aside as the young woman lowered herself into position; enforcing her submission by forcing her to comply under her own will. As she settled over his lap, he rested his right hand on the right cheek of her rounded, heart-shaped bottom as his left hand gripped the right side of her waist.

He clucked his tongue, once, and the horses began following the road yet again. The knowledge that anyone at all could come down the road and see Amber getting a humiliating spanking would only add to the necessary enforcement of the lesson.

Tashir thought, No need for a full thrashing, this time. Her recent experiences should create the necessary response.

He began popping her full bottom with his calloused hand in a manner obviously meant for children; sharp but not using anything near full power, strong enough for the proper sting to be applied but not enough to raise blisters. He punctuated each swat with a syllable.

"When-you-are-on-du-ty, then-du-ty-will-be-your-watch-word. Your-du-ty-en-tails-be-ing-a-ware-of-your-sur-round-ings. What-kind-of-trees-are-those, and-what-are-they-good-for, lit-tle-miss-y?" He said as he kept his senses alert for any kind of danger.

[Dungeon]

"Please, not on the road..." Amber groaned, not really expecting a response. The smacks elicited a few grunts and soft yelps from her, but she did her best to stay in position. "Th-Those are b-birch trees, sir!" She managed out through the pain. "They have m-many uses. O-One of their key uses is against h-harpies. Sir, please..."

[Strictdaddy1]

"Please may you continue?" The young woman's teacher interrupted; his hand resting briefly on her hip before he began swatting again. "Yes, you may expound upon the uses of the Birch, you lazy, lazy girl."

[Dungeon]

Amber thanked the divines for the break, even with its sudden end. "B-Birches also make the best fires, and if prepared properly, they can be made into W-Wards." Amber's back arched involuntarily as the spanking progressed, drumming her feet a bit to alleviate an incredibly menial amount of the soft burn. "They also make v-very painful switches..." She gasped out, knowing that that was the answer her master wanted to hear. And "lazy?" Amber was nothing of the sort! She was the hardest working in her family, the youngest to be chosen as an apprentice, and was always training her body into a weapon. Did her studies lack because of her physical focus, yes. But that was a worthy sacrifice, in her opinion. Better to be like Arthol the Strong then Meinol the Wise, especially if the former could break the latter in two.