A/N: This, like most of my writing, is a F/F spanking discipline story.
This story has a bit of an almost fairy-tale-like setting, and if you’ve read Narnia (particularly ‘The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe’), you may notice I have taken a little inspiration from that for the setting, or perhaps the aesthetic, if that makes any sense.
I have left the relationship-type between the Snow Queen and the Ice Princess intentionally ambiguous though in my head I imagine them more couple-like with a D/s-like element to their dynamic rather than being any sort of familial relations or anything else. However, this is not explicit in text and is open to individual interpretation.
Disclaimer, as is typical for me: Obviously this story with its fantasy setting etc is not representative of any real-life dynamic and should not be taken as such. In real life, spanking should take place between enthusiastically consenting adults after negotiation, with knowledge of limits, safewords, etc.
The Snow Queen frowned as she returned home to her palace.
It was a magnificent palace, carved out of ice and snow, with elegant towers, and grand balconies, and as many rooms and chambers as a queen could ever want or need.
It wasn’t the palace that the Snow Queen frowned at. It was what was in the palace. Or, what was in the entrance hall, more specifically.
The grand entrance hall was filled with ice statues.
Each one seemed more intricate and realistic than the last. Some were of people, and others were of animals. There was an arctic fox, and even a polar bear, up on its hind legs, and looking as though it was about to roar.
But most of all, there was just a lot of them.
Unfortunately, the Snow Queen knew this was not some great feat of work by a talented ice sculptor. This was the work of the Ice Princess.
Like the Snow Queen, the Ice Princess possessed powerful magic linked with snow and ice, and had the ability to turn any unlucky soul into an ice statue, if it so pleased her.
The Ice Princess was standing among the statues now, with her arms crossed, and a rather sulky expression, which rather ruined her otherwise quite pretty face.
“I won’t turn them back, and you can’t make me,” The Ice Princess declared at once, as soon as the Snow Queen entered the hall. “So there,” she added, stamping her foot for emphasis.
“Can’t I indeed?” asked the Snow Queen, calmly. “Come here please.”
“No, I don’t want to,” said the petulant Ice Princess, and turned on her heel to march out of the room.
She didn’t get far, however, as her feet were suddenly stuck firmly in place, as the ice floor beneath her shifted with a small cracking sound, and encased each of her feet in ice.
The Snow Queen was soon beside her, and once more the ice floor was shifting, as the queen held a hand out over a smooth section beside her. One moment, the ice seemed to be rising, and then it seemed to be shifting, and then there was an ice chair – no, an ice throne, newly carved in the entrance hall, with the Snow Queen’s magic.
The queen reached out yet again, and this time, the movement of the ice was much smaller. In an instant, a small but very hard looking ice paddle had formed, and the Snow Queen bent down elegantly to scoop it up.
Then, she sat on her throne, and took hold of the Ice Princess, releasing her spell that encased the princess’s fee, so that she could tug the young woman over her lap.
The Ice Princess pounded her fists and kicked her legs and just about had an all-out tantrum but it was no use; she was over the Snow Queen’s lap and unable to tantrum herself out of this particular predicament.
That didn’t stop her kicking harder still as her warm woolen dress was flipped up out of the way and her knickers came down.
“Wait!” she cried.
But it was too late. The ice paddle came down with an almighty crack.
It might have been made of ice, but after a dozen of so whacks with it, the Ice Princess was sure it was made if some sort of molten lava. A normal paddle made of ice may well have shattered when used in this manner, but this was a magical paddle.
She screeched, and scrambled over the Snow Queen’s lap, and grabbed at the Snow Queen’s white dress, but it was no use.
The Snow Queen continued to paddle the naughty princess for a good while until the younger woman’s angry protests became earnest and pitiful apologies, and urgent promises to turn every single stature back to what it was before.
Later, after all the people and animals had been restored to their former selves, the Snow Queen made a large mug of hot chocolate for herself, and another for the Ice Princess, and they shared a box of Turkish delight together, cuddled up deep within the Ice Palace.
“So why did you turn all those folk into ice statues in the first place?” the Snow Queen asked as they polished off the last of the Turkish delight.
The Ice Princess shrugged, looking a little sheepish as she licked sugar from her fingers.
“I guess I was a bit lonely cause you had things to do,” she admitted. “And then I got irritated.”
“And you wanted some attention, hmm?” the Snow Queen asked.
“Eh… maybe… yeah,” the Ice Princess confessed, hiding her face in the Snow Queen’s fur coat.
“Well, I’ll make sure you get all the attention you need from now on,” the Snow Queen informed the rather mortified Ice Princess. “And we’ll see if we can find a better outlet for your Ice Magic and your other talents. I don’t want to see any more living ice statues from you, is that clear?”
“Crystal,” came the muffled reply from somewhere within the Snow Queen’s coat.
“Good girl,” the Snow Queen said.
After that day, the only ice statues in the icy palace were ones that truly were magnificent pieces of artwork, carved by a talented sculptor – for that was what the Ice Princess eventually learned to become.