I recently found this drawing, a Paula Russell drawing, on Chross's blog. I am nearly positive that it has to be an illustration for the story "A Fairy Tale" that I read many years ago in JANUS. It was written, as I recall, in the late '70s or early '80s. I lost the magazine years ago, but I liked the story so much I rewrote it from memory in 2000, making up new text and adding my own touches here and there. I thought the premise was cute. So with apologies to the original author, whoever you are, here is my version still illustrated by Paula.
Once upon a time there lived a king, a queen and their three daughters. Roxanne was a fiery red haired beauty of 21 with a full voluptuous figure.
Christine was a slender, pretty, and shy girl of 19 and Daphne was a lively, cute and ripe figured blonde of 16.
One day the king received word that a terrible dragon was ravaging the countryside. He charged the royal magician to consult the ancient tomes to discover what could be done. The magician gave the matter some study and reported back to the king.
"Sire, the dragon can be slain, but the lance to be used must have a blade that has been bathed in the tears of a well whipped virgin of noble birth."
Upon hearing this pronouncement, the king’s three daughters glanced at each other nervously.
With a heavy heart the king turned to his oldest daughter and said:
"I am sorry Roxanne but you must give of yourself for the good of the kingdom."
To the captain of the guard the king said, "Accompany Princess Roxanne to the tower and take the magician with you. I charge you to give the princess Roxanne a sound whipping on her bare bottom with your sword belt until the tears flow. What must be done must be done."
The captain and two of his two of his men grasped the arms of the flustered Roxanne and hustled her off to the tower kicking and screaming. Stripping the lovely princess naked they bound her hands to a rung on the wall.
Princess Roxanne was a lush figured beauty with full, round bottom cheeks so shapely that they seemed to practically beg for the lash.
The captain removed his belt and, wrapping the end around his fist, proceeded to whip the belt down full across her lovely bottom with a loud crack that could be heard all the way down in the throne room. The courtiers and the king and queen listened breathlessly as the belt’s smacking sound and Roxanne’s shrieks reverberated through the castle
The captain then proceeded to administer smack after smack to the white, deliciously rounded bare buttocks of the princess. The captain could not help but notice that the princess’ bottom would jiggle with every blow. As each harsh crack of the belt landed, the princess would squeal and rise up on her toes pumping her hips forward. Bands of red left by the belt merged into a red mass and the princess began to cry. The magician caught the tears in a vial.
When the lance had been prepared, and dowsed with the tears, a knight was sent out to slay the dragon. Upon encountering the dragon, the knight stabbed it with the lance. This merely infuriated the dragon and it promptly ate the knight.
When word of the knight's demise reached the king, he consulted the wizard again. The wizard was at a loss to explain the failure. The queen, however, glared at Roxanne, her eyes narrowing. "Send for the royal midwife, and you, daughter come to my chamber."
"No, mama, no, I can explain!" wailed Roxanne.
And explain she did to the tune of a whippy switch wielded by the queen across the already reddened buttocks of the weeping red haired princess. At the same time, a handsome guardsman was seen to beat a hasty retreat for the border of the kingdom on a fast horse.
The middle daughter, Christine, was made of sterner stuff.
"I am ready to take my punishment, papa, for the good of the realm. And unlike my sister, I am pure. I only ask that I be permitted to choose the
hand that will wield the lash."
“It shall be as you wish, brave daughter,” said the king.
Christine looked around the room and found the eyes of her beloved, Prince Roland .
“I choose Prince Roland of Arcturia. He shall obtain my tears.”
The Prince implored her not to choose him. How could he bring pain to the one he loved? But, Princess Christine was adamant.
“Come, Prince Roland, you must attend me in my chamber. Send to the kitchen for a sturdy paddle. I will prepare myself.”
And so it was that the brave princess removed her gown, lowered her pantaloons and draped herself across the knees of her would be lover.
Roland contemplated the fleshy, perfectly formed mounds of his sweetheart’s bottom and resolutely raised the paddle. Smack! The paddle landed squarely across the roundest part of Princess Christine’s lovely sit-spot which jiggled upon impact. Smack! Roland proceeded to apply the paddle with gusto, smacking and cracking it on the bare hind cheeks of the princess. Stoic though she tried to be, the searing pain in her buttocks caused her to wriggle and yelp with each hearty spank. After several minutes of relentless smacking from the paddle, the wriggling fanny of the princess had been spanked to a scarlet hue and the tears had begun to flow. When enough tears had been gathered, the spanking ended and Christine rose to embrace her punisher. All the ladies in waiting applauded (and the pantaloons of several were decidedly moist after watching the masterful Prince Roland in action).
Once again a lance was prepared, and once again a brave knight ventured forth to battle the dragon. But once again the knight was vanquished, and
only a riderless horse returned.
The King and his court were perplexed. The royal wizard suggested further study.
“I have found the problem,” the wizard declared, after consulting his best grimoire. “The word virgin in this passage means 'one under 17 years of age', and the whipping must occur in public.”
All eyes fell on Princess Daphne, whose face paled at this revelation.
“Furthermore, the whipping must be administered by the knight who will slay the dragon”, continued the old sage.
“Very well “, said the king. “Sir Garth, you are our bravest, most capable knight. All others have failed. You must slay the dragon.”
At this news Daphne began to swoon, for Sir Garth was the handsomest, bravest knight in the realm. She had worshipped him even as a young child.
“Have the birching block brought to the throne room, and prepare a suitable birch rod,” Said the king. “I am sorry my dearest daughter, but this must be done”, he said to Daphne sadly. She was clearly the apple of her father’s eye.
When the block had been prepared and a birch rod procured, all eyes fell on the lovely Daphne. With the help of her ladies in waiting, the fearful
princess removed her gown to reveal budding breasts, a narrow waist, and flaring womanly hips. Her luscious bottom cheeks strained against her tight pantaloons which were lowered to reveal a heart-shaped bottom of exquisite beauty.
Daphne was secured to the block and a hush fell on the courtiers as Sir Garth took up the birch.
“Forgive me child,” said Garth as he raised his arm.
Swish….thwack! Swishh…thwack! “Yeowwww” squealed Daphne.
Sir Garth whipped the supple birch rod across Princess Daphne’s tender fanny causing her to wriggle and yelp. The birch switches seemed to almost bounce off of the jiggling bottom leaving red weals in their wake. The whine of the birch sang a song of pain to the poor princess as it swished and cracked against the lush moons of her bare bottom. At long last the tears that had welled up in Daphne’s eyes began to flow. A vial was procured.
“Stop,” said the wizard when the vial had filled.
Daphne was allowed to rise and she stood weeping and rubbing her
reddened buttocks vigorously. Through her tears she looked at Sir Garth who embraced her, wiping the tears away.
“There, there,” he said consoling her. “I will slay the dragon for you, little one. And I will return.”
And with that, Sir Garth rode off, accompanied by Prince Roland and the Captain of the guard. They tracked the dragon to its lair. While Roland and
the Captain kept it at bay, Sir Garth plunged the lance into its heart killing the fearsome beast.
When the news reached the king he rejoiced and ordered a celebration. As a reward for their brave deeds he gave the hand of each of his daughters
to the three heroes who had rid the land of the dragon.
And so it was that a triple wedding was held. At the altar was the fiery Roxanne with the Captain of the guard, Prince Roland and Princess
Christine, and the nubile Princess Daphne and Sir Garth.
Some say that Princess Roxanne came reluctantly to the altar, but became very demure and obedient
when the captain gave her a stern glance and fingered his sword belt meaningfully. The Captain, they say, installed a rung in a post in his bedchamber. A long strap made from an old sword belt hangs on a peg next to the rung.
Some also say that the Princess Christine presented her new husband with a unique wedding gift, the very paddle that he had used on her posterior. Princess Christine seems blissfully happy even though the unmistakable cracking sound of a paddling in progress can often be heard from behind the door to the couple's chambers.
Some say that the chambers of Sir Garth and Daphne also frequently resound with loud smacking sounds of palm meeting flesh. After all, Daphne is still
a child and needs discipline. Who better than Sir Garth to turn the cute Princess over his knee spank her soundly when she is petulant.
All agree, however, that the new couples lived happily ever after( even if the three princesses did not always sit very comfortably). The End.