Hanky Panky Guy

I get really pissed with how Morrigan speaks to Alistair. We all know he has a temper, right?
I reckon he's long overdue to get pissed enough with her bitching to fling her over his knee and tan her arse properly. Properly. Preferably in front of everyone else.

Hanky Panky Guy

Alistair is not feeling his usual chipper self. He has just returned from Denerim having discovered that the half-sister he had been dreaming of and yearning to meet for so long is nothing but a grasping little flibbertigibbet with a bad mouth on her. Elissa pointed out to him that everyone is in it for himself or herself and, squatting this evening by the fire holding his hands out to the warmth, he is just beginning to come around to that point of view. It’s a depressing thought.

His affair with the Elissa is also not going so well, he’s been feeling tired and dejected lately and has not been as energetic in the sack as either of them would have wished. Even Zevran has come forward to offer him advice, just how much lower can he sink, by the Maker, Zevran!
On top of all that, this evening Morrigan appears to be on his case. Even more than usual.

“So Alistair, not only was your mother an ignorant, impressionable peasant but I hear your sister is an ungrateful parasite.”

Alistair sighs and holds out his hands a bit closer to the fire, attempting to ignore her but she is still flitting by his side waiting for him to rise to the bait. Eventually, unable to help himself, he says testily, “Half-sister, actually”.

“And of what import is that? Surely her better half is not the one related to you…”

“And your mother is what?” He replies with venom, “A scary witch who lives in the middle of a forest? You do know you look like her, right?” He says refusing to make eye contact so she can’t see how hurt he is.

“Better that than being a fool descended from fools…”

“So I am a fool am I?” He says standing up straight.

“Can you not hear?” He is somewhat surprised that she appears to be ignoring all the warning signs he is giving off.

“Oh, I can hear all right…” He looks at the fire a little longer and a grim expression crosses his face, “I also think it’s about time I did something about it…”

“You? You would not dare…” She taunts.

He moves with great speed, picks her up and slings her over his shoulder, “Really?” Suddenly he realises just how easy this is going to be. She weighs about as much as a doll. He is a fool, why didn’t he think of doing this before?

“I…” She struggles in his arms and then makes an attempt to cast.

“Ohh, no you won’t”. The bluish glimmer of his cleansing spell falls gently around them both.

“Leli, that stool, I am going to teach our apostate here a lesson…”

Attempting to suppress a nervous snigger, Leliana, her eyes wide, puts the small stool she sometimes uses when playing the lute by the fire. Alistair sits down on it and arranges Morrigan over his lap.

“Right, let’s do this…” He says, Morrigan writhes urgently, all in vain.
Alistair pulls up her robe and tucks it into her belt, but for a moment, he’s silent. He has just discovered Morrigan has a really pretty rosy firmly rounded little backside, the oranges and yellows of the flames play over it and over his stilled face. “Typical apostate, no smallclothes…” He says recovering, “Well, that’s certainly going to make my job all the easier.”

“Unhand me, oaf, or it will be the worse for you…” spits Morrigan.

“You mean, worse than having to put up with your continual insults… I hardly think so…” Alistair cracks his knuckles. Morrigan attempts to slide off but he grabs her by the shoulder and then holds her firmly in place at the waist.

“I will ensure that you pay richly for this.” She says choking with rage against his leg.

“You’ll do nothing of the kind.” He adds, “This should be fun…” Slowly he raises his hand, suddenly aware that all the companions are looking at them both in a stunned silence.

He narrows his eyes and purses his lips, looking around at them. “Think I’m not capable of this do you? Think again.” he says, and brings down his hand hard and fast gives her perky bum a loud open-handed slap.

Thankfully, Wynne has retired early, but a big grin spreads over Zev’s face, Oghren is goggling obviously wondering whether he is seeing things again, Leli giggles and even Sten is watching him with a grave expression but a slightly raised eyebrow. Alistair notes that not one of them is attempting to stop him.

“Ow!” Morrigan’s cry has more to do with simple surprise than the unexpected tingling pain.

He spanks her again quite purposely.

“Ow! I will not beg…”

Elissa who had also retired early comes out of her tent, to see what all the noise is about and is looking at them. He can feel her eyes on the back of his neck; he glances around at her quickly and sees an expression of deep surprise etched on her face. Emboldened, his cheeks flushed, he says slightly louder than before, “Good then I’ll have no reason to stop…” and smacks Morrigan again even harder.

“Ow!”

Elissa retreats back into her tent. “I mean if you did, I might just begin to feel sorry for you… Might.” Another stinging whack.

“Ow!”

Alistair stops for a moment and admires his handy-work plucking at Morrigan’s tender skin as she moans and fidgets. The shape of his rather large hand is clearly imprinted on the pretty ovals of her rear. He likes that, it gives him a warm happy feeling inside. He realises he has a hard-on.

He smacks her again.

“Ow! Let me…” Morrigan squirms on his lap. Although the slaps were not initially too painful, the slaps on top of the slaps are beginning to really sting and feeling him examine her backside is extremely humiliating.

“No… I’m enjoying this far too much.” Although he does pause to take exhale, his chest heaving, he becomes conscious he’s been holding his breath since examining her. His hand has started to smart he notes.
On his lap, the apostate wriggles “It seems… I have aroused more than anger in you, Templar.”

“And just for that…” Alistair gives her four stinging wallops in quick succession.

“Oooooooooow… Ow!”

Her yells can now be heard very clearly throughout the camp, he is sure. He hopes Elissa is listening from inside her tent.

For good measure, he gives Morrigan about half a dozen more. And then stops. Her arse is flaming red; he runs one of his hands lightly over it, feeling the heat emanating from the tenderised punished skin.

She whimpers under his touch but then she says. “You will suffer the consequences of this, Templar”

He realises it’s all a charade, just empty bravado, “Somehow I doubt that…” he says contemptuously at the same time tipping her off his lap, so she lands in an ungainly heap in front of the fire.

“Anyway, I’m finished for now…” He is extremely glad that the splint mail falls well below his waist as he stands up because he has a raging erection. Zev is grinning knowingly. “I have other things to attend to…” He says aloofly. He walks as straight as he can to Elissa’s tent, aware that everyone’s eyes are on his retreating back.

When he enters, he finds Elissa standing stock still in the middle of it. They look at each other for a few seconds. Then she throws herself at him. Her breath is hot in his ear, she is laughing quietly, tears running down her face, “I can’t believe you did that… In front of everybody… I just… It was the funniest thing…”

He pulls her to him, kisses her a bit and runs his hands through her hair thinking how much nicer she is than the wretched Morrigan and all the different ways he is going to please her. “Actually,” He says, “I need your help with something… Urgently.”

THE END