Quiet nights are a rarity in this particular town, and one Amelie Belfrey is enjoying hers with her favourite method of some green tea and a good book, curled up by the fireplace as she listens to the wind howling outside. It’s a nice and domestic moment, so she’s not especially surprised that it’s interrupted by the party’s resident necromancer.

Having decided to spend the night at Amelie’s home instead of trekking all the way across town to her own, Tasha had been surprisingly quiet up until this point, skulking away into the guest room to tinker with her spells or something. Amelie has a rather low opinion of the necromancer’s work, despite being fond of the girl herself. Something about it just strikes her as distasteful, though it shouldn’t be too surprising that a Paladin would think that way.

The interruption itself takes the form of Tasha draping herself over the back of the chair Amelie had sat herself on, face-up by the paladin’s shoulder and tail swishing cutely behind her, as she gives a cheeky grin and speaks.

“Whatcha reading?”

Amelie sighs, responding without actually looking away from the page.

“A history book, cat. One detailing the finer details of grain distribution in an ancient culture far from this land. Perhaps you’d be interested in a lesson sometime?”

Predictably, Tasha groans at that, making a show of straightening back up and adjusting her robes. It’s not an uncommon attitude for the girl to have, much to Amelie’s annoyance, but most of the party have grown accustomed to it; she rarely means ill by it, as frustrating as it can sometimes be.

“Uuugghhh, pass. The last thing I need is that kind of bedtime story, thanks very much. You enjoy, though.”

A beat passes, marked only by the sound of the wind and the crackling of the fire, before Amelie finally gives another sigh and slides a bookmark into place, shutting the tome and turning to face her houseguest.

“Was there something you wanted, Tasha?” She probes, expecting more of the catgirl’s theatrics in response; but instead, she gets some hesitance and bashfulness from her, a surprising display. There’s another beat before she answers, absently toying with her own tail once it wraps around her hip.

“Yeah, uh, I actually wanted to ask… a favour. Y’know, nothing you haven’t done before, but…” She starts to trail off, prompting Amelie to clear her throat and look pointedly. Notoriously not a fan of her time being wasted, she trusts that Tasha knows what it means; and by the way the girl straightens up and continues talking, it seems she does.

“Right, right. Uh, could you spank me?”

Almost immediately, Tasha regrets being quite so blunt about it. Amelie blinks, furrowing her eyebrows and managing to find her voice before the flustered catgirl in front of her can rush to explain- or more likely, excuse herself from the situation entirely.

“Eh? Is this your method of confessing to some misdeed, cat?” She speaks with a little extra sharpness to her tone, seemingly unimpressed even as Tasha waves her hands frantically to divert that line of thought.

“No! No, trust me, I’m not that stupid.” She attempts to ignore Amelie’s disbelieving expression, pressing on undeterred. “I just… y’know, I always sleep better after, whenever you’ve had to do it before, and I’m always nice and calm the day after, y’know? I thought it’d be nice! Bonding activity, or something, or maybe you’d like to be sure I’ll behave while I’m staying or something…”

She’s silenced by the paladin’s hand raising, signifying that the woman has heard enough, and so she lapses into quiet fidgeting while she waits for a response. Thankfully, that wait doesn’t last too long, as Amelie exhales through her nose and nods just a moment later, setting her book aside to rise from her seat and approach Tasha.

“Very mature of you, Tasha,” she says, reaching out to rest a hand comfortingly on the girl’s shoulder. “I’m impressed you have the insight to know you need some maintenance. Aye, cat, we’ll take care of you. Go wait for me in your room, and I’ll be up shortly to help you sleep better. You’ll know the drill by now, I imagine?”

Suddenly relieved and elated by the lack of a negative response, Tasha nods, giving Amelie a thumbs-up before she scampers around a corner and, presumably, up the stairs towards the guest room. Amelie gives her time to prepare, taking care of some light tidying for about five minutes, ultimately deciding that’s long enough and moving to fetch her trusty hairbrush on her way up the stairs. 

As she steps into the spare room, her gaze first moves towards the corner she keeps clear for timeouts- and just as she expected, that’s where she sees Tasha, having changed out of her black necromancer robes and into a plain white nightdress, having been provided for her by her host. She’s got her nose pressed to the wall, and her hands folded behind her back, mostly still save for her tail swishing awkwardly, caught between her legs due to the dress not actually having been made for someone of her anatomy.

Amelie doesn’t move to take Tasha out of the corner immediately. Rather, she makes her way over to the bed, sitting down and smoothing down her own dress to ensure everything’s ready before finally clearing her throat and speaking. 

“Over here now, cat. Let’s get this started.”

Betraying the eagerness she’d managed to stifle for the timeout, Tasha steps back from the corner with a bounce to her step, already grinning as she trots over to Amelie and comes to a stop in front of her. She knows the drill, she’s been spanked by the woman before, though this portion is typically for scolding, and as such, she’s not exactly certain how it’s going to manifest when, for once, she hasn’t actually done anything wrong. So, she waits, feline eyes scanning the paladin’s face to try and gauge what exactly she’s gotten herself into…

“You did a good thing, asking me for this. I’m pleased, and I hope you’ll come visit to make sure your hide is tanned regularly. Perhaps we’ll finally tame your wildcat ways, hm? I’m certain the others in our party would thank me for it.” Amelie moves a hand to rest on Tasha’s hip as she speaks, giving her a comforting smile. It’s a very different vibe than the stern admonishing Tasha usually receives, and the result is pretty obvious, the faint tent in the front of her nightdress that she only barely notices catching Amelie’s attention and prompting a light snort of amusement from her.

“Ah, that explains it a touch better, doesn’t it? Never fear, we’ll make sure to discipline you anyway.”

Without giving Tasha much of a chance to defend herself verbally, Amelie uses that hand on her hip to pull the girl down and over her knees; another motion that Tasha’s more than used to, ensuring she can get herself down and over with her bottom propped up without any issues.

Not seeing any reason to drag this out any further, Amelie wastes no time in reaching down to hook her fingers under the hem of the nightdress, dragging it up Tasha’s pale thighs and over her hips, letting it pool halfway up her back- and letting her tail swish animatedly in the air.

At least, it’s animated until Amelie clears her throat and taps it with the brush. She doesn’t need to say anything, as Tasha already lets out a soft ‘eep’ and tucks her tail up and away from her behind, but Amelie speaks all the same.

“Keep that out of the way now, cat. We’d hate to have it catch a stray swat.” She instructs, already moving on to tap the back of the brush against Tasha’s pale cheeks.

“Yes, Miss Belfrey,” Tasha responds, far more restrained than she usually is before the spanking begins. Yet more proof, in Amelie’s mind, that the necromancer’s suggestion of a maintenance spanking is long overdue, and something to be capitalised on in the future.
With the catgirl in the oh-so-familiar position of being bent over her knees, and the familiar heft of a hairbrush in her palm, Amelie takes a moment to brush a hand over the girl’s head, fingers lingering by her ears, and speak a few words of… encouragement? Warning? It’s a little mixed, but there’s an affectionate tone running through it all.

“Now, cat, we’ll not be lessening the justice simply because you asked for it, that’d set a worrying precedent. You’re as welcome to yowl and kick as you usually are, but I’ll afford you the luxury of bracing more than usual. Are you ready?”

Tasha actually takes a second to think about the question, another first as far as she’s concerned, before giving a quiet little nod, quickly following it up with;

“I’m ready, Miss Belfrey.”

Amelie nods, giving Tasha one last scritch behind the ears and moving on. Her grip on the brush is adjusted, and Tasha takes in a quick breath, the girl already a little nervous and wondering if she’s made a mistake. After all, every other time she’s been over Miss Belfrey’s knees, she’s wanted it to be over with as quickly as possible…

It’s clearly too late to back out now, though. The brush makes firm contact with her bottom while she’s still contemplating the fiery sting of previous spankings, and it takes her off-guard, making her yelp and buck a little in the paladin’s lap- not that it matters, of course, the matronly woman more than well-versed in keeping her in place for discipline like this. A strong hand pins her down, honed from years of combat and practice with her holy weapon, as the other arm works on bouncing the brush off her cheeks in a swift, merciless pace, paying little heed to the way she yelps and kicks in place. 

As she really should’ve expected, Tasha immediately finds the spanking swift and impactful, each firm swat imparting a pink mark and building up what starts as a tingle, swiftly progressing to something far more insistent and unpleasant.

Just as she always does, Amelie keeps her aim and pace consistent, peppering stinging, fiery thwacks of the wooden brush-back against Tasha’s wiggling bottom with enough of an even spread to ensure the pale skin blossoms into a nice warm pink far quicker than the girl it’s attached to might’ve liked. Similarly, Tasha’s taking Miss Belfrey’s permissions to heart, vocalising the feeling of a brush lighting a fire on her bottom with energetic squealing and loud gasping, all the while keeping up her animated wiggling and kicking. A very common sight when she’s across the paladin’s knees, and a part of her is grateful that she’s being given the same lovingly firm treatment even though she hasn’t technically don’t anything wrong to warrant it.

A larger part, however, is caught up wishing the fiery throbbing spreading across her hindquarters *had* been lessened a little, so she could enjoy the aftermath without the true peak.

“Gah, fu- ow ow ow! Owwww!” Tasha babbles her way through the spanking, earning little more than a bemused head-shake from the woman carefully and easily swatting her, though the catgirl is notably cautious not to curse if she can avoid it. This may not be a typical punishment, but she can only assume that the normal rules apply- and she very much doesn’t fancy getting her mouth washed out tonight.

Thankfully, she manages to keep her tongue all the way through the spanking, ending up pressing her tearful face into the bedsheets before the brush would stop its merciless onslaught. When it does come to a stop, her cheeks are emblazoned with cherry-red warmth, throbbing and burning, and Amelie looks pretty darn pleased with herself at the achievement. Tasha’s nudged up to her feet, and she instantly leaps up, tail shot straight out as she reaches back with both hands to rub at her poor bottom, dancing from foot to foot with a few shaky hisses. It’s a dance she’s allowed to undertake for now, as Amelie rises from her position on the bed and sets the brush aside, only to close the distance between them after so she can pull Tasha in for a warm, motherly embrace.

“There there, kitten. We’ll skip the second bout of corner time, I think, so you can get yourself a nice night’s sleep.” She coos, smoothing down Tasha’s hair and, on pulling back, planting a soft kiss to her forehead, calming the necromancer a touch. 

“Y-Yeah, uh. Thank you, Miss Belfrey.” Tasha answers, looking a little bashful as she calms herself down from the animated motions of a freshly-spanked bottom. Not bothering with a response to that, Amelie just ushers her firmly into bed, giving her bottom a firm pat over her dress to get her moving- and move she does, squeaking in alarm at the distant threat of further paddling and scampering up and beneath the sheets, hissing as her bottom makes contact, however soft, with the bed.

“Ow…” She pouts, though Amelie just snorts, pulling the sheets up a little further. With that done, she turns, making her way towards the door and only stopping just shy of leaving the room entirely. Turning a glance over her shoulder, she speaks only a few words, then shutting the door and returning to her book.

“Sleep well, kitten.”