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The Doll and the River

By Lawrence Kinden All Rights Reserved ©

Fantasy

Chapter 1

Angela Matthwin was a privileged little girl. At the age of fourteen she should have out grown such nomenclature as ‘little girl’, but it was still how the neighbors thought of her, still how she behaved and still how her parents treated her. And though usually such a phrase as ‘treated like a little girl’ implies a firm slap to a bare backside, in this case there was no such treatment. No, Angela was a very privileged little girl in so much as she always got what she wanted and was never, ever punished. And so, Angela was a horrid little brat.

The small town of Three Rivers was nestled in a mountain valley far from just about everywhere. It was rare a trader’s wagon would come through town and even more rare for two at once. And yet such was the case this early spring day, and the down to earth folk of Three Rivers came out to thbuy the goods the traders had to offer and hear the news they had to tell.

Angela wandered around the square with her mother and father looking at wares from distant lands. It wasn’t five minutes before she spotted the cutest little hand-made doll of soft linen and stitched with exquisite detail. The doll had yellow blonde hair, just like Angela and bright blue eyes made of colored glass. Its clothes were ilk. Little Miss Matthwin knew she just had to have it.

“Mommy, mommy!” she shrilled, just like a little girl.

“What is it dear?” asked Angela’s mother mildly as she approached.

Angela pointed. “Can I have the doll mommy? Please can I have it?” Angela turned her big blue eyes up at her mother and quite nearly cried. “I really want it. Please?”

Missus Matthwin smiled indulgently. “Of course dear.”

The merchant standing behind the booth smiled at this exchange and his grin grew exponentially at Missus Matthwin’s response. Missus Matthwin turned to the merchant and asked after the price.

“Well,” said the merchant in an overtly oily voice, “Normally it would be forty Tithonian marks. But for your absolutely charming daughter, I’d be willing to settle for thirty.”

Missus Matthwin wasn’t much of a haggler, and the merchant bargained meanly. Therefore, it was only a minute or two later that Angela’s mother was handing over twenty-seven marks, over twice what the doll was worth. Angela grasped the doll in a fierce hug and smiled a huge smile, while Missus Matthwin tried not to think of what Mister Matthwin would say when he heard about the purchase. Mister Matthwin would spare no expense for his daughter’s happiness but in general was a spendthrift. He’d have bargained harder for the doll than Missus Matthwin had.

Angela skipped through the marketplace with her new doll and Missus Matthwin followed at a sedate walk, a faint premonitory tingle in her bottom. The speculation was shattered a moment later by the voice of her daughter, again raised in desire.

“Oh! Mommy, look at the pretty necklace.”

Missus Matthwin regarded the silver and crystal extravagance. It was indeed pretty.

“I want the necklace,” Angela said. “I want it so bad. I can have it, can’t I?”

The request put a frown on Missus Matthwin’s face. “Now Angela, I just bought you that pretty doll and you know your father wouldn’t...”

“Daddy would buy it for me!” Angela pouted and stamped her foot. “Daddy would buy it for me right now!”

“Angela, we’ll talk to your father about it this evening,”

“But mommy, it might be gone by evening! I want it now!”

Missus Matthwin started to explain to her daughter again why she would have to wait, for she was certain her husband would buy the extravagance for their daughter, but Angela interrupted her again.

“You don’t love me!” Huge tears welled up in Angela’s eyes. “I hate you!” The girl spun about, her dress flaring to show off her smooth pale legs and tight white panties. She fled the market so fast her mother quickly lost sight of her.

Missus Matthwin sighed.

Angela hurried out of town and down a small trail through the woods to the river. She wasn’t supposed to be by the river. Some said it was haunted, but Daddy said it was because it was dangerous and she could get hurt. Well nothing bad had ever happened to her before and besides no one would bother her here. It was Angela’s favorite pouting spot.

She looked at the doll and frowned.

“Stupid doll. The necklace is far prettier.”

She flung the doll into the river. It made a faint splash as it hit the water and sank quickly.

Angela turned to stomp away, but she didn’t get far. Something cold and damp wrapped around her ankle. She yelped and tried to run, fearing a snake attack, but it held her tight and she fell to her knees. Another something took her by the shoulders, spun her about, and thumped her down onto her back, the grassy river bank thankfully soft. Then it gripped her ankles and lifted her legs so the skirts of her dress fell down about her waist.

Finally Angela had the presence of mind to scream, not in terror but in indignation.

“Let go of me!” she shrilled. “Let go right this instant! My daddy will ruin you if you don’t leave me be!”

She looked up at her ankles and saw what had a hold of her. It was a thick tendril of water, one around each ankle, extending from the slow moving river. Angela’s eyes went wide and she gasped.

Another long, thin tendril grew from the river, snaking toward her. It thickened considerably as it approached her and took shape. Soon a girl’s face stared at her out of watery eyes.

“Why did you throw your doll in the river?” the girl asked in a voice warbled by bubbles.

Angela wanted to scream in terror but she could not utter so much as a squeak.

“You come here and sulk a lot,” the river girl observed. “Are your parent’s so very mean?” Long thin tendrils, like the ones still holding her ankles, eased their way out of the main tendril. One of them patted her pantied bottom gently. “Somehow, I think they are not.”

And then Angela felt a watery smack to her bottom.

“Ouch!” she shrieked at the sting.

And then another, nearer her thighs.

“Stop that!”

Then two of the river’s formless little ‘hands’ stung Angela’s bottom at once.

“Owie! You can’t do this to me!”

The girl’s face regarded Angela. “Of course I can spank you. Obviously.”

The river lifted Angela by her ankles until she hung upside down, a foot off the riverbank. Angela’s skirts fell past her face and she struggled to keep her modesty and win her freedom even as soft, gentle water tendrils tugged at her panties and dragging them up her legs and off. Bare from her midriff to the top of her socks, Angela squealed and cried and squirmed while watery whips lashed across ever bare bit of skin on her backside.

“I’m... I’m sorry!” Angela yelled. “I’ll be good, I promise!”

The river continued to spank.

“Please, no more!”

But the river paid her no heed.

“I won’t be a brat anymore!”

The river’s spanking limbs slowed and stopped. The river girl stretched around the human girl, handing upside down and regarded little Angela Matthwin. Angela looked at the river girl through blurry tears.

The river girl turned her head upside down. “So you admit that you are a brat?” it said in its high watery voice.

Angela hesitated. The river spanked her twice quickly before Angela could say, “Yes! Yes, I admit it. I throw a temper tantrum when I don’t get my way and pretend to cry and say mean things. I’m sorry.”

Slowly the river lowered Angela until she was lying on her back on the riverbank. Then flowed back into river, until she appeared to be a girl, oddly colored, standing waist-deep in the water. Angela stood hurriedly, wiping the tears from her face with one hand and rubbing her spanked backside with the other.

They looked at each other for some time, neither saying a word. Finally, the river girl nodded once and slipped below the surface with barely a ripple. Angela took a deep breath and wiped away the last of the tears.

Then, something caught her eye. It was the doll, lying on the grass. Angela knelt and picked up the little cloth doll. It was faintly damp but no worse for the wear.

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