A/N For many years, discipline fics were my guilty pleasure and I particularly liked to torture Faramir. This was written in 2005. . .and is definitely tongue in cheek

Title: Turning the Tables

Author: Shireling

Rating: G

Genre:  Humour/Parody

Disclaimer: Only the Little Ranger is mine!

Summary: Faramir takes on a new role

“Hello. . .hello. . .is anybody there?”

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“Legolas. . .Aragorn. . .this is not funny!”

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“Dammit. . .When I get my staff. . .I’m warning you! I hope you’ll like living as a pink-spotted toad”
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“Mithrandir!”

“Oh, Faramir, Thank goodness!”

“Mithrandir, what are you doing hanging around in here?”

“No time for questions. Just let me down, Lad!”

“OH, I don’t think so. . .”

“Faramir. . .!”

“Shush, Mithrandir. . .you are really not in a position to give orders now, are you?”

“Why you ungrateful young wipper-snapper.”

“Tut, tut. Name calling is most unbecoming.”

“Get me down from here this minute or I promise you, you will be very, very sorry!”

“Promises, promises!”

“Faramir. . .please. . .!”

“But Mithrandir, you look really quite decorative as a wall decoration. . .though that skinny arse could do with a little work. . .more exercise and a liberal application of anti-wrinkle cream would be a start!”

“Why you cheeky little so. . .OWWWwww!”

“Did that hurt?”

“Of-of course it hurt. . .you spanked me!”

“That wasn’t a spank, that was just a little tickle. . .this is a real spank!”

“Ow. . .ow. . .owwwww. . .ouch. . .stop. . . STOP.”

“Why?”

“It hurts!”

“Oh for goodness sake, stop pouting and take it like a man!”

“I’m far superior to any mere mortal,”

“Ha. Not from where I’m standing!”

“Faramir, what is this all about? What do you hope to achieve?”

“You are my hostage.”

“Why?”

“I want an image makeover!”

“WHAT!”

“I want an image makeover,”

“You kidnap me, suspend me naked in a dungeon and spank me because you want an IMAGE MAKEOVER!”

“Pre-cis-ly! Ex-act-ly.”

“And how exactly are your actions supposed to bring about this makeover?”

“I’m going to spank you every hour on the hour until the Valar  intervene and give me what I want. . .starting now!”

“Ow. . .ow. . .ow. . .not so hard, Faramir.”

“You are not in charge here, Mithrandir. . .I’m calling the shots here.”

“Ouch. . ouch. . .mercy.”

“And when did you ever show me mercy when you were spanking me?”

“But I was just showing you how much I cared about your welfare.”

“You walloped the living daylights out of me!”

“I always cuddled you afterwards!”

“Some consolation that was, when I couldn’t sit for a week!”

“But you always took your chastisement  so bravely.”

“Of course I did. . .I am a Hurin!”

“And were you so brave when your father beat you?”

“Father. . .beat me! My father never beat me.”

“You don’t need to hide the facts from me, Faramir. . .I know all about the beatings and the abuse. I know how he derided you and withheld his affection.”

“You fell for that story too! Really Mithrandir, I thought you at least would see through the pretence.”

“But the beating. . .I heard your cries!”

“Those weren’t cries. . .we were laughing. Sometimes we laughed so hard we fell from our chairs.”

“What was so funny? Tell me that?”

“Boromir, of course! The great streak of misery. ..always mooning about with a pout on his face. . .forecasting death and destruction.”

But your father favoured Boromir. He even sent him on the Quest in your place. . .”

“He sent Boromir to get him out from under our feet.”

“But he tried to burn you alive?”

“Fooled again, Wizard. . .you really are too gullible. It was all planned. . .Father’s exit strategy!”

“He planned his own death?”

“NO. He planned his own disappearance. The pyre was a ruse. . .when the doors were closed on the Hallows he took the secret passageway out into the mountains.”

“So where is he now?”

“He has a little beach house on the Costa Del Harad. Now hold still, time for the next spanking!”

“Not there, Faramir. . .it’s really tender just there!”

“What, just there. . .and there?”

“Yessss. . .Owwwwch!”

“I know all the tender spots. . .personally! Everyone seems to think they have the right to paddle my backside. . .You, Estel, Legolas, Uncle Imrahil, Gimli. . .even Damrod! Well, I’ve had it up to here with being everyone else’s whipping boy....so if I were you, Mithrandir, I would start praying long and loud that one of those bosses of yours are listening.”

“OW. . .owwwww. . .owwwww! All right! All Right. . .I’ll plead. . .I’ll beg . . .but please, stop spanking meeeeee.”

“Half a dozen more for good measure!”

“Stop, Faramir, please! I can’t take any more!”

“Wimp.”

“So what exactly am I supposed to be asking them for?”

“A complete personality transformation. No more ‘mister nice guy’! No more stoic ‘Little Ranger’! No more blue-eyed golden boy. From now on I want to be a true Hurin. . .just like my Father! I want to be mean. I want to be moody and I want to scare the shit out of anyone who even thinks of coming after my backside with a paddle. And if one more middle-aged matron, who should know better, pinches my cheek and hugs me to her breast calling me her ‘Little One’ I’ll take the White Rod and ram it down her throat!”

“OK! OK they’ll do as you ask. Now, please please let me down.”

“Oh, very well. Hold still. Now please put some clothes on, we don’t want to frighten Shadowfax and we have a long ride back to the city if we are to get back in time for another of Estel’s interminable banquets!”

“Oh, Noooooo.”

“And, Mithrandir. . .there’s a nice hard, wooden chair with your name on it!”

“I should have left you to fry, you ungrateful little sod. Ow! OW! Owwwww!”

The End

Shireling 2007