I have Jean and Marie abusing my brain like a small, furry rodent would a hamster ball. They’re dashing, prancing and sweeping about my mind and I have the need to ramble a little until I feel able to update a few more threads that have been neglected due to my many unhealthy obsessions. Oh and believe me, my obsessions are fruitful and varied, they rocket from the ground and whirl, swirl and twirl until I’m torn, worn and sworn to obey their every whim.
X-Men in an addiction, it pumps a dramatic baseline through my youthful veins and challenges all obstacles it encounters with a keen eye for trouble, and a paddle larger than the dinner plate Elvis Presley’s last meal was served on.
This is as “catchy” as I’ll ever become.
Jean Grey was a woman. Yes, a vivacious, voluptuous woman who favoured the flavoursome word of “vinaceous”. A woman of refined tastes revolving around what roseate tainted wine to partner with a seasoned helping of plump and Oregonian raised duck. She enveloped and smothered her quintessential, hourglass and motherly figure in lashings of stunning and succulent shaded fabrics that brought about the knee-knocking and inarticulate, rasping groans from her male counterparts.
This shapely, pinup woman with her flaming locks of cherry crimson held her small palm outward and wordlessly accepted an exquisitely carved, wooden tool of chastisement. Her heart-shaped, austere and solemn face was unrelenting in seeking thorough obedience from her misbehaved daughter.
“You’ve behaved atrociously.” Her pursed, ruby lips remarked somberly to her most foolish child.
Marie Elizabeth Logan, the youngest offspring of the Queen of Mutants and her able-bodied, huntsman husband, was fearful and apologetic. “Mommy, I’m sorry.” The eleven-year-old princess whimpered woefully, her angelic, elegant ball gown spoiled by muddied waters and grassy smudges. “Please don’t spank me!”
The stoic Queen positioned the hairbrush beside her and commenced unbuttoning her daughter’s once admirable dress. “I have never been so embarrassed in all my life!” She hissed testily, alluding to the banqueting hall piled high with guests she had abandoned to deal with her child’s misbehavior. “Your father will be hearing of this when he returns. Arms up, young lady.”
Weeping with the familiar guidance of uncoiling horror in her tummy, Marie’s eyes watered and she held her arms high in the air as her mother had ordered. “No, not Daddy! He’s going to be really mad.”
“Yes, he will be, Marie Elizabeth. You knew how important this evening was and I explicitly told you to stay with your sister and brother.” Jean scolded hotly, setting the dress to one side. “He’s going to return any minute now with the hog to roast and the banquet can’t begin until we return! The guests will be standing about with empty tummies and glasses, your father will have to entertain them and your siblings will need to suffer through it all until our return. What will our distinguished guests think of our kingdom, young lady?”
“Mommy, I’m really sorry.” The young girl whispered meekly, catching a stray tear with her unusually grubby hand.
“Oh, you will be. And if your father is unable to barter for another hundred acres of forest because of this, I have no doubt he will use the strap on you.” She finished crossly, her slender fingers snapping at the waistband of her youngest child’s ruffled, ivory pantaloons and guiding them down Marie’s ashen legs in a swift motion. “Out you get.”
Marie’s legs were weak and unsteady as she climbed free of her pantaloons, leaving her bare from the waist down. She was desperate to plead and bargain her case, but was under no illusion her words would resonate with the irate woman. She had snuck away from the fanfare and jolly conversation in search of her Daddy’s puppies. His majestic hunting dogs were the jewel in his unused crown and she loved to play with them. They were sweet, little dots of fluffy fun and could be naughty too. Once they had found a muddy stretch of lawn to play in, Marie had attempted to call them back and the next thing she knew, her mommy was calling for her, and she had been in the thick, squelchy mud with the puppies.
“Mommy’s going to give you a long, hard spanking, Marie Elizabeth. You were very, very naughty this evening and I’m not at all pleased with you or your behaviour. It’s not fitting for a princess and I won’t stand for it.” The Queen explained sharply, lifting her daughter over her knee and draping the child to her satisfaction.
The young princess sniffled repentantly and glanced nervously over her shoulder. Her petrified eyes widened in fright when she witnessed the hairbrush in her mother’s skillful hand and she began to cry almost immediately. “I’ll be a good girl!” She promised, the burnished coloured wood landing on her bottom with an almighty crack!
Jean was heartbroken, though steadfast as the smooth backed, mahogany hairbrush chastised her daughter’s naughty, ashen behind. It certainly won’t be washed-out and pale for long, She thought ruefully, her strong arm bringing the implement down solidly each and every time without fail.
“Mommy!” Marie gasped weepily, her distressed legs beginning to flail and kick at the air. “I’ll be good, I’ll be a good princess!”
“Yes, you will be, Marie.” The Queen held her child gently by the small of the back and persisted to discipline the badly behaved rear squirming over her knee. “After I’m finished, and that won’t be for a very long time, you will stand in the corner with your bare bottom on display. Do you understand?”
“Y-Yes, Mommy!” The princess sobbed, the words barely audible as they rushed from her trembling lips.
Thankful to be getting through to her baby girl, Jean advanced the range of the hairbrush, harsh whacks spreading further away from the child’s flushed, brilliantly bright bottom and sneaking closer to her pristine thighs. “I never, ever want to have to do this again, Marie Elizabeth! You obey Mommy when I tell you to do something, especially when we’re entertaining guests.”
Marie could no longer kick with such vigor and passion, and was soon reduced to a bawling, immensely sorry, little girl. Her bottom from the top of her cheeks to the tips of her lower thighs was the sweeping shade of her mother’s anger. The ruddy, blooming pigment to her once pasty skin was fiery and fierce, causing her face to be inundated with the splash of salty tears.
The soon-to-be placid Queen promptly finished the spanking with two dozen, firm and unpleasant swats that would surely leave a lasting impression on her daughter’s behind. She placed the hairbrush down and gathered her baby up into her loving arms. “There, there, Marie. It’s over now and Mommy’s very proud of you. You took your punishment like a well behaved princess should.”
“M-Mommy.” Marie whispered, feeling distraught. “I’m sorry I was naughty.”
“I know, Sweetheart. I forgive you.” She stood elegantly and carried her poor, thoroughly spanked Marie over to the corner of the large bedroom. “But it’s corner time now. You will stand here for an hour and wait for your father. No rubbing, no moving and no naughtiness out of you.”
The King and Queen needed to be strict with their children, the entire kingdom’s eyes were planted firmly on the estranged couple to be firm leaders of a vast, densely wooded and heavily populated mushroom of land. They may have been drifting apart like waves lapping across a seaside shore, but they were unwavering when their children were the predominant point of discussion.
Alas, I’m racing ahead and chomping my way through moments that have yet to happen. Apologies and a sweeping curtsy are floating toward you on a gentle spring breeze.
Queen Jean ghosted a loving kiss on her baby’s cheek and retired prudently to the palace suite. Her handsome, huntsman husband would be troubled by his youngest child’s behaviour and she was utterly convinced they would be bouncing furiously snapping words between themselves for the rest of the day.
Aaaand this will be added to at a later date!