A Thief Gets Punished

He walked me.

I was a good girl. It felt like we crossed the whole country. Not once did I ever resist - I would lift my hands when he told me to, I would put my hands behind my back when he needed to tie me back up, I would walk wherever he told me. He tickled me dozens of times, but never spanked me again, because he never needed to.

People continued to point and stare. You know how it is at this point. You know how humiliating it is - not just because I'm naked out in public, but because I deserve it. This was the least I could lose; this was the minimum amount of fear and humiliation I could be subjected to. It was either this or looking over my shoulder for Sir the rest of my life.

With time, we came to the city. Its walls were massive, making me feel even smaller and more vulnerable. Sir, sitting atop his horse in front of me, seemed from my perspective to be the same size as it. Some people have souls so large they eclipse cities. He led me in through a side door, so insignificantly small next to the mighty gates.

It was through here that I was processed, I think. He left me outside, as usual, while he did some kind of work. The people here were much more familiar with ENFs like me. They hooted and hollered; they particularly enjoyed my muscular body.

"Gods, I wish I could have seen the Catcher take you down, you dumb ENF!"

They were right. I was dumb. I was a dumb ENF.

Sir then took me further into the city. He pulled me before a large building with CAMPBELL-TAYLOR written across the front. I looked up at the building. A sense of finality came over me; it was a frightening as it was comforting. I would walk out of here a completely different person.

Sir got down from his horse and led me in. I was shocked. It was a large hall with a throne at the end. A man in fancy clothes was sitting there, lounging back with a bored expression on his face. There were guards at the doors around the room. And there were two lines of women, dressed in what looked like burlap sacks. They were all different shapes and sizes and skin tones; some were short and fat and pale, some were tall and slender and bronzed, and I even saw a blonde woman taller and even more muscular than me.

"So this is Erica Broadchurch," said the man on the throne as Sir led me to the middle of the room. He was resting his chin on his fist and his elbow on the throne. "Well, show us your body."

I heard squeaking, and I turned to see a contraption being wheeled towards me. It was a big square rack with chains in each corner. I saw it and instantly knew what to do. As soon as Sir untied me, I reached for the chains and spread my legs.

"Ah, an obedient one," said the man as Sir clipped the chains around my wrists and ankles. "I like your body. Some muscle. You've lost a bit of it, obviously. It's too bad none of it will help you." I saw a guard walk over to Sir, carrying a large paddle. I grit my teeth in fear.

It'll all be over soon.

"I'm going to paddle you ten times, Erica," he said. "You know what to do."

It'll all be over soon!

CRACK!

"Owowowowowowow!" I shook my butt. I wasn't ready for this! It hurt so much! So much more than the spanking! I heard girls tittering. I thought fast: "One! Thank you, Sir!"

CRACK!

"Oooooooooh! Two! Thank you, Sir!" Tears poured down my face. I shook my body as best I could. I heard the girls laughing. They were my fellow ENFs, I could tell.

CRACK!

"Three! Mmmmmmm! Thank you, Sir!"

He continued. Each crack to my butt caused titters of laughter in the ENFs watching, while the man on the throne watched, visibly bored. With time, my perception of the room warped; there was nothing but the pain and humiliation.

But you know how that is.

"Ten! Ahahahahahaha! Thank you, Sir!"

And that was it. I hung there, my butt red raw, the pain throbbing.

"Very good," said the man on the throne. "I sentence you to five years in Campbell-Taylor. Guards." Large, muscular men came over and unchained me. They pinned my arms up and pulled one of those burlap sacks over my body. As they did, I turned my head back to watch Sir walk out the doors. "He'll be back for you. As for me, I'm done here. Take her away." The man got up and walked out a door on my left.

Thus began my sentence in Campbell-Taylor. I would be spending my days doing chores; washing clothes, peeling potatoes, cooking food, sweeping floors. If I acted up -- which I rarely would -- I would take off my clothes to be spanked. In extreme situations -- which never happened to me -- I could be stripped naked and left on the rack anywhere up to all night. My life would be regimented and simple. Very different to my life before.

It was now one year since my release.

I was wearing a white cotton shirt, a brown leather vest, and dark brown leather pants. I walked through the street, looking at the signs of the houses. I came to it: The Royal Robbins Hall. I took the servant entrance in -- didn't want to be seen. A man stopped me, and I simply told him who I was. His eyes widened and he allowed me through. I passed through a kitchen and the cooks stared at me. I asked them for directions and they simply pointed the way.

I found my way through. I came out into a large dance hall. There was a party. Dozens of people weer dancing joyfully. There was a quartet playing a waltz I half-recognised. My eyes scanned the room.

There she was.

I stepped forward brazenly, without fear. My training had been worked into me; I moved on instinct, taking up the necessary space in the room. People saw me and gasped. I walked up to one girl. She was about five foot five, with a petite frame hidden under her fabulous outfit; the fashion had become towards billowing dresses with simple colours since I had been in Campbell-Taylor, with her choosing a simple yellow with a purple belt.

"Angela Astor?" I asked.

"Yes?" she asked tentatively.

"You are under arrest in the name of the King for the crime of arson." I pointed my large crossbow at her. "Take off your clothes."

"What?!"

END.

Author's Note: This will be my last ENF Catcher story. I feel this particular universe has run its course -- we're at the point where the world would start being changed by the existence of the ENF Catcher, where the novelty will have worn off and women are anticipating it. There's also the way elves would change human society more. On top of this, the project has revealed the paucity of ideas I was starting with -- I can't exactly work dwarves or gnomes or whatever into the story in a way I find particularly satisfying. As much as I love the elf design I have or the implications of their effect on human society, I want to start over with a much more traditional high fantasy setting and sketch my perversions into that.

On top of this, I have achieved everything I want to achieve with the ENF Catcher concept. I have followed Sir just as steadily as Erica, Lara, and Megan did and been just as shocked by the journey. I have now listed everything I find hot about the concept and by the ENF, and I'm ready to filter a new premise and new fetish through my precise, pedantic vision. I got some ideas for girlrider goblin stories...