It has been an awfully long time since I updated this series, hasn’t it? Never fear however, this is a fairly meaty update and it ties up some loose ends that have been floating about since the beginning of the series.

Somewhere between the curtains and the dresser, something moved. At first it was such a small, slight movement that it would have been incredibly difficult to know that anything had moved at all. It was the merest twitch of an atom, which twitched another atom, which sent yet another tiny particle into a tail spin. Slowly, yet with gathering speed, the very fabric of existence began to twirl with a low twanging hum, much like the sound of someone playing an accordion in the distance.

To the casual observer, very little had changed in the room. Perhaps there was a slight waviness in front of the palatial velvet curtains, like hot air on a hot day, but one would have had to have been watching very carefully indeed to have noticed such a thing.

What one would certainly haven noticed however, would have been the sudden emergence of a woman via the portal. She appeared through it, head first, with a ‘floop’ sound and was subsequently tossed rather unceremoniously onto the flagstone floor.

As she lay there groaning, the low droning accordion sound faded away and reality returned to its usual configuration, patting down its sleeves and straightening its jacket and making disapproving noises the entire time.

Lucy lifted her head, half afraid she might still be in the terrible place she’d come from. The loud, noisy place with the metal beasts and blaring talking head boxes. What an awful place. As she laid eyes on the familiar surroundings of Queen Rael’s chambers, she felt quite tempted to burst into tears of relief. Finally, she was home.
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It’s been forever since I posted some free spanking, isn’t it? You’re probably wondering why you still bother. Well cheer up chapettes, here’s a little more from Tempus Brat.

After being thoroughly thrashed by Constance and falling asleep on the rug in her chambers, Cade was eventually woken up and sent to simple quarters for the night. Constance’s last words to her were a simple instruction, imparted with a swat to Cade’s well punished behind.

“Behave yourself.”

When one is told to behave oneself by a woman who has just expertly wielded a cane against one’s backside, one tends to behave. But Cade was not such a one, or to put it another way, the spanking she’d endured at Constance’s hands had left her feeling not only sad and sore – but very angry indeed and not in any mood to behave herself.

Rubbing her bottom grumpily, she laid on her stomach on the simple cot bed, which was mercifully covered in a soft fur, and turned the events of the day over and over in her mind. Her tummy growled. She was hungry. She’s probably deliberately been sent to bed without any dinner. Maybe it was Constance’s plan to beat and starve her to death. She wouldn’t have put it past the big mean blonde.

It was all Kai’s fault, Cade thought to herself, unable to contemplate the idea that the painful events of the past few hours might have been her own fault. No, it was definitely Kai’s fault. It was Kai who had trailed her around the place and eventually brought her back, it was Kai who had lead her into Constance’s clutches and it was Kai who had left her to Constance’s tender mercies.

Frowning deeply to herself, Cade vowed revenge on Kai. She felt better having vowed revenge on someone, it gave her a sense of purpose, a feeling that she was not merely flotsam in a strange world. She tried to get to sleep then, but the aching in her behind made sleeping difficult, and the rumbling in her stomach did not help much either. Eventually she got out of the bed and wandered over to see if the door might open.
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If you’ve been wondering just when Cade was finally going to get into trouble for all her misdeeds… today’s the day.

Upon arrival back at the castle, Cade found herself ushered rather triumphantly through the halls by Kai, who was taking a very smug attitude to having been the only one capable of finding her. She strutted in front of Cade like a skinny little peacock, entirely proud of herself in every way. Though watching Kai be so clearly pleased with herself was amusing, as they drew closer to what Cade knew now were the royal chambers, she felt her innards begin to churn with nerves. She tapped Kai’s shoulder and gave her her best pleading look.

“Do we have to go back to the Queen?”

“You’d prefer to see Constance?” Kai shrugged. “It’s your funeral.” She turned on her heel and lead Cade down a new series of halls, whistling a casual little tune as she did.

Cade puzzled at her words. Constance had been relatively kind so far, and surely she would be more lenient than a scorned monarch? Kai was a woman of her word however, she delivered Cade safely to Lady Constance, who had retired to her chambers, no doubt to deal with matters of greater importance than strange urchins who materialized half drunk on a Sunday morning and chewed the drapery. The door of her chambers were ajar and Cade could quite clearly see her working on some papers, a frown of concentration on her face. She was clearly busy. Perhaps they could come back later.

“GUESS WHO?!” Kai slammed her fist against the half open door with a raucous cry and a wide grin.

Cade groaned at the introduction and the moment Constance looked up from her papers and laid those icy eyes on her, she yearned for the howling mob that had been chasing her about the city square not an hour earlier. Anything had to be preferable to the sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her she was now completely at the mercy of a very displeased noblewoman.
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It’s all different, but it’s the same!

EDIT: By the by, I just added the ‘Comment Luv’ feature to Sappho’s Brats, if you click to tick the comment box when you leave a comment and put your blog address in the website box, then it will search for your last post and add it as a link to your comment. I realize this is all completely out of keeping with previous announcements to do with the blog, but I can only hope you love me for my stories, and not for any hope of a sense of consistency *sweet smile*.

As the mountain of angry man glowered down at her, Cade made a prudent decision of self preservation and took to her heels, dashing as quickly as she could between the laughing, jeering patrons of the bar, some of whom reached out for her, trying to stay her as she fled for the exit.

“Get back ‘ere!” The man she’d insulted was not going to let her escape so easily it seemed, and even as Cade gained the exit, his thumping footsteps on the creaking wooden boards of the bar boded ill for her.

As she burst forth into the fading sunshine of what had been a rather pleasant afternoon, she found that the crowd of market shoppers that had hidden her so well before had now thinned to the point that they were mere obstacles that hid nothing at all. They milled about like stupid sheep, stuffed to the brim with candied apples and mead, getting in Cade’s way as she wound her way through them at top speed.
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What ho chapettes and chaps, welcome to the 19th installment of Tempus Brat. Voting on the 2nd person vs 3rd person issue was tight, but the 3rd person votes got it by a nose and I rather find that writing in the third person is somehow more immersive, so I’ll stick with that I think. Hopefully this won’t be too jarring for those of you who preferred the second person.

Though the breaded meats were so tempting and close, Cade flexed her ethical muscles and set about scouting the ground for signs of copper coins. If her couch managed to swallow tens of dollars a year, surely the flagstones of this great marketplace must hold a few treasures.

Between the legs of the shoppers she spotted a glint of silver a few paces away, nestled between a rotten smushed potato and a bit of discarded lettuce. With only a few mutters of ‘excuse me’ and ‘watch it’ and only one accidental shot to her ribs from the knee of a passing stranger, she managed to retrieve the small silver disc. It had not been stamped with a figurehead, but it bore the mark of a rampant dragon and surely something so shiny and utterly coin-like could only be money.

Clutching the little piece of silver in her hand, Cade approached the breaded meat seller and thrust her treasure in his direction.
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Okay, so here’s the plan, comments are back up if you want to use them, but at the first sign of weirdness, I assure you that the party responsible for the weirdness will be hurled into the confusing sort of reality that would make MC Escher go a bit mad. Taking prisoners, I am not.

I’m also going to try changing the style of Tempus Brat, because I think there is a possibility that using ‘you’ repetitively actually breaks the flow of the tale and makes people’s brains curl up and whimper. So, this installment is going to be written in the third person narrative. You’ll have a chance to vote on your preference at the end of the tale.

Hearing the shout, Cade skidded to a halt and turned in time to see Kai stop short a few feet away, rubbing her jaw ruefully.

“You pack quite a punch,” Kai noted dryly, slowly strolling towards Cade.

“What do you want?” Cade’s voice was rough with tense confusion as she backed one step away for every step Kai took towards her.

“What do I want? I want to find Lucy. In the meantime, I thought you might want some help escaping Constance. She’s not pleased, you know.” Kai regarded Cade with those inscrutable cat-like eyes that made her thoroughly uncomfortable. It was impossible to know what Kai was really thinking. One moment she was charming and amusing, the next moment she was full of anger and threats of violence.

“Thanks, but I don’t need any help,” Cade replied, edging closer towards the dense, swirling crowds that paid her no mind in their frenzy of consumption. Scents of cooked meats and candied apples were tempting her further, making her stomach rumble. It had been a long time since she had eaten, and she was starving.
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It’s been a long time since I updated this, but then again, I did warn you about that possibility. At the moment, we’re running on bottled water and the promise of candy over here. (They say the water is clean, but we’re taking extra precautions because we don’t believe that we would enjoy gastroenteritis as much as they do in the movies.)

Candy is excellent in emergencies. Add some to your emergency kit if you haven’t already done so. If you don’t have an emergency kit, make one today. Seriously. It turns out that emergencies really can happen anywhere, anytime. So we should be prepared. Very prepared. As prepared as we can be.

I think Scar is hot. I don’t care that he’s a cartoon lion.

BE PREPARED.

Now for more of this Tempus Brat story.

As Constance’s palm makes contact with your unprotected derriere, you let out a feral yowl and struggle with all the frantic violence of a cornered house cat. Your cries echo off the great stone walls of the chamber, ringing in your ears and increasing your fury. Clearly sounds such as the ones you are making are not uncommon however, for no guards rush into the chamber to protect the queen.

Unfortunately for Constance, her grip on you is not nearly as tight as it should be. To your great surprise, you actually manage to break free of her grasp and tumble off her lap and land between Constance, Kai and Rael. For a moment, all three of them stare at you with a certain amount of surprise, allowing you take advantage of their hesitation and take to your feet.

A hand reaches out to grasp you as you begin to flee, but even Rael’s strong grip is not effective it is gripping are a broken pair of pants. For a moment, you fear you’ll fall as she holds onto the seat of your jeans, but with a hopping gait, you manage to free yourself from your pants and run away, leaving a befuddled monarch holding what were once a very expensive pair of jeans.

The door to the chambers is still open from when Kai stormed through it, and though you’ve lost your pants in your bid for freedom, it hardly matters as you make your escape. You run as fast as your bare legs will take you, back through the maze of halls, ignoring the looks you get from the fine ladies and gentlemen who are still wandering about the place with all the aplomb of penguins at Mardi Gras.

The castle is great and grand and festooned with finery, but you’re no longer interested in staying there and being a slapping bag for Constance. Fortunately for you, the guards who are stationed about the halls hardly seem to view you as an entity worth paying attention to, let alone someone to be caught. They stand to bored attention as you flee the castle and burst outdoors, gasping for air.

In front of you are the cells you found yourself in earlier, but off to the side, that alluring green strip of grass that leads away from the castle and towards the town calls to you. You heed its cry, and run down it as fast as you can in your breathless state, following the thin passage down between the stone walls. So far, you seem to have made a good escape, there are no shouts following you, or pounding feet chasing you. But surely they will not allow you to escape so easily indefinitely. If you’re going to avoid being caught, you must find a way to blend in, and quickly.

As you proceed away from the castle, the stone walls get lower and lower. A few houses are now visible as you run, fine houses built near the safety of the castle, probably belonging to the nobles. In the yard of one of the houses, you see a line with clothes hung out on it – including a pair of pants that rather take your fancy.

In your normal life, you’d never dream of stealing from someone’s back yard, but these are desperate times and they call for desperate measures. You glance over your shoulder to make sure you haven’t been followed, then vault over the low stone fence into the yard, where you waste no time yanking the soft leather pants off the line and pulling them on. They’re obviously made for a man and they’re a little big, but they’re also incredibly comfortable, and the leather drawstring at the waist makes them easy to fit around your waist.

Before you can be caught committing yet another crime, you make your way out of the back yard and high tail it into the town, where the spicy scents of the bustling marketplace make your mouth water. Crowds of people bustling back and forth offer the promise of safety, but before you can dive into the crowd, a voice rings out.

“Stop!”

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This has gone too far. You’ve only just met Kai and already you’re tired of her bully tactics. Who does she think she is, barging in and threatening you? She doesn’t know who you are. You could be anybody. Anybody at all. It’s time to put an end to this before she makes your life a living hell, so you step out from behind Constance and glower at her.

“Don’t mess with me, you’ll regret it,” you promise direly, hoping your fierce expression and tone make up for the fact that you’re still doing your best to hold your pants up in one hand.

“Cade…” Constance begins to say something, but Kai cuts in.

“You better keep your eyes open, because I’m comi…”

She never gets to finish her sentence. Instead of listening to another threat, you drop your stranglehold on the waistband of your pants and swing at her as hard as you can. Moments before your fist connects with her jaw, you see the look of surprise in her eyes. She darts back quickly, but not quickly enough and you catch her on the tip of her jaw and send her spinning over onto the floor.

Your moment of triumph is short-lived however. Without your clinging hand to keep them in place, your pants have fallen to your knees, hobbling you as Constance grabs you from behind and swings you over her lap.

“We do not hit people,” she lectures you without any hint of being aware of her hypocrisy as her palm comes down hard across your panty clad cheeks.

The slap hurts, but you can’t help but feel triumphant as Kai lies on the floor with Rael attending to her. She keeps trying to get up to get at you, but Rael insists that she stay lying down, and when Rael insists something, Kai apparently obeys.

“She was threatening me,” you growl, not taking your eyes off your fallen foe.

Constance slaps your ass again, hard enough to make you yelp. “You don’t take matters into your own hands,” she lectures you.

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(Just a short one today, it’s almost 1 am and I should be in bed. For those of you who are interested, Page Three of Fixxer is now up. On a side note, I love the way the voting on this tale always surprises me. Lady Constance is more popular than ever, I see.)

You squeal in fear and dart behind Lady Constance as Kai thunders towards you, looking ready to tear you limb from limb.

“Kai, that’s quite enough.” Unlike Constance, Rael does not so much as raise her voice, yet Kai stops on a dime at the words from her queen.

“She’s got something to do with it, I know she has. She looks shifty,” Kai says suspiciously, continuing to glare at you as if you are the most disgusting, depraved sight she’s ever seen.

You glance up at Lady Constance and see that there is an amused twist to her lips as she catches your eye. Once again, you’re plunged into a warm sea of embarrassment as you clutch at your ragged waistband and blush at the look she’s giving you. You feel so very helpless, lost in a strange land, with strange customs and with hardly any pants to speak of.

“I don’t have anything to do with anything,” you protest, stepping out from behind Constance in what is quite a show of bravery. A snarl from Kai sends you skittering back behind the guard however, and brings those terrible looks of amusement back to Rael and Constance’s faces.

“Kai, treat our guest with respect,” Rael chides the feral wretch patiently.

“Sorry,” Kai mutters, casting you another filthy look under her eyelashes. She’s not sorry, you can tell. Your initial assessment was right, Kai seems thoroughly remorseless and the way she’s looking at you out of the corner of her eye sends chills down your spine. She’ll obey Rael for now, but you know that she’ll be coming after you when you’re alone as sure as you know there’s a nose on your face.

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“What shall we do with you?” The Queen’s question hangs in the air, reminding you of all you have lost in such a short time. Yesterday you would have given your right arm to move out of the little flat you share with skittering rodents and a semi-feral kitty named Dinah who delights in clawing you when you sleep, but right now, you’d give your soul to be back inside the familiar confines of those slowly mildewing four walls.

“Please Ma’am, your Majesty, I just want to go home,” you whimper pitifully

Queen Rael and Constance exchange looks. “And where is home?” Rael asks.

“420 Baker Street, Candlewick Lane, 90805,” you inform her meekly.

The resulting stares from both the Queen and her Officer are blanker than the blankest of blank things. “In America,” you add helpfully.
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