This story marks the very first appearance of Paddlewick. It began as a pyful homage to I Love Lucy, a cheeky one-off parody filled with wild schemes, dramatic spankings, and a dash of light BDSM tradition. I never expected it to be more than a quick ugh.

  But somehow, Paddlewick grew into a culturally significant kingdom within the Cone, with its own ws, institutions, social codes, and a long-running rivalry with the vibrant, sex-positive city-state of Bellefemme.

  This early tale doesn’t reflect the full depth, satire, or character nuance that Paddlewick would ter develop. I've thought about polishing it up since I'm only publishing it now, but this is where it all began, and I'm leaving it as is for sentimental reasons. If you’re new to the setting, think of this as the pilot episode: chaotic, exaggerated, and absolutely covered in paddles.

  I hope you enjoy it, at least enough to see what came next.

  In the high mountain kingdom of Paddlewick, named for the sturdy spanking paddles once used to tan unruly hides (both leather and otherwise), King Rodrick the Firm-Handed ruled with absolute discipline. Trade ran like clockwork, harvests were miraculously scheduled to the day, and the wives of Paddlewick were kept in their pce with a weekly reminder of authority—over the knee and thoroughly spanked.

  Most women of Paddlewick accepted their fate with only mild grumbling, but Queen Isadora the Cunning was not most women. She found the whole tradition barbaric, outdated, and, frankly, an inconvenience to her well-manicured posterior. Every week, like clockwork, King Rodrick would summon her to the throne room, pull her across his p, and deliver the royal decree in the form of firm-handed discipline.

  But not this week. No, this week, Queen Isadora had pns. She would break from this tradition

  Attempt #1: The Cssic Disguise

  Isadora’s first ploy was a simple one—not being Isadora.

  She called upon Lady Mildred Softbottom, a lesser noblewoman who bore a passable resembnce to the queen (if viewed at a distance, through fog, while squinting). Draping Lady Mildred in one of her royal gowns, Isadora had her sit primly upon the Royal Throne of Corrections, assuming that the King, distracted by his many duties, would spank first and ask questions ter.

  As, King Rodrick was no fool. The moment he id eyes upon the queen’s not-so-royal rear, he called a halt.

  “That, my dear, is not my wife’s exquisite backside,” he decred.

  Lady Mildred, knowing she had no business here, fled the scene in terror, leaving Queen Isadora to attempt a tactical retreat. Unfortunately, the King was both disciplined and quick-handed—he caught her mid-step, spun her around, and pced her firmly over his knee.

  One failed attempt. One smarting backside.

  Attempt #2: The Royal Negotiation

  “I am a queen,” Isadora grumbled, rubbing her behind as she paced the royal bedchamber that night. “Surely, I can outwit a man with only two brain cells dedicated to something other than military drills and farm rotations!”

  The next morning, she approached the King with a proposition.

  “My love, must we continue this barbaric tradition?” she asked, batting her eyeshes. “Surely there are more civilized ways to ensure obedience!”

  The King, ever the reasonable man, stroked his beard thoughtfully.

  “I am listening.”

  “How about… a points-based system? For every good deed I do, I earn a reprieve! For every infraction, a demerit. And if I accumute enough demerits, well, then… you may have your way with me.”

  The King pondered. “And who keeps track of these points?”

  “I do, of course!”

  There was a moment of silence.

  And then the King burst into ughter.

  “My dear wife, you are many things—beautiful, cunning, a thorn in my side—but honest about punishable offenses? Ha!”

  Before she could protest, he had her right back over his knee.

  One failed attempt. Two smarting back-to-back spankings.

  Attempt #3: The Grand Escape

  That evening, after icing her tender bottom, Isadora hatched a foolproof pn.

  “If I am not in the kingdom, I cannot be spanked!” she reasoned.

  Thus, under cover of darkness, she donned the attire of a humble washerwoman, sneaking past the guards with a basket of undry to be “delivered” outside the pace walls. She made it as far as the mountain pass before she heard the hoofbeats behind her.

  “Going somewhere, my love?”

  There he was. King Rodrick. Mounted upon his trusty steed, Firmhand.

  With an exasperated sigh, she dropped the undry basket and made a run for it.

  For a glorious six seconds, she truly believed she might escape.

  Then she was scooped off the ground, tossed onto the King’s saddle, and delivered right back to the throne room.

  With a theatrical groan, she braced herself for another royal correction.

  One failed attempt. Three spankings in one day.

  Attempt #4: The Ultimate Counterattack

  Now desperate, Isadora turned to the most forbidden technique in Paddlewick history.

  The next time the King called for her weekly correction, she did something no woman in the kingdom had ever dared before.

  She spanked him first.

  The room fell into stunned silence.

  The guards gasped.

  The royal advisors fainted.

  King Rodrick himself blinked in astonishment.

  For one glorious, fleeting moment, Queen Isadora tasted victory.

  And then the King smirked.

  “Oh, my dear,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. “You just earned yourself a royal double session.”

  “NOOOOOOOOOO—”

  Thus, Queen Isadora found herself thoroughly and unquestionably spanked, her cheeks glowing as red as the royal banners.

  Epilogue: A Queen’s Resignation

  That evening, as Isadora y face-down on their grand silk bed, cooling salves applied generously, she let out a long, weary sigh.

  “Perhaps I should just accept my fate.”

  King Rodrick chuckled, kissing her tender cheek. “You certainly make it more exciting than the other wives.”

  She grumbled into her pillow.

  She would try again next week.

  For now, the King had won again.

  …But a Queen never truly gives up.