Their father takes a hands on approach to discipline.

Eddard's hands came down hard on his daughters' haunches, the sound of the slaps echoing in the godswood. The sisters groaned and grunted as he struck their shapely rears. Oddly, it seemed to Arya that the pain lessened as the spanking continued, her father's blows becoming lighter, and yet seeming to linger longer. Even stranger, she found herself minding the strikes less, found herself bringing her ass back to meet his hand, found herself feeling a strange tingle in her nethers.

"Have you learned not to be naughty?" muttered her lord father, his voice heavy and thick. "Will you be good girls now?"

"Unngh," groaned Sansa. "Yes. Ss-Sorry... father..."

"Sorry," Arya whimpered.

"That... that's better," muttered Eddard. "Now... lower your skirts, and... let us go."

Arya and Sansa backed away from the tree, turning as they did so. As she lowered her dress over her aching rear, Arya heard her sister gasp. Sansa was staring wide-eyed at their father, and it didn't take Arya long to figure out what had caught her attention. Eddard's manhood was straining against the seams of his breeches, heavy and hard. Arya joined her sister in staring at in fascination. As she watched, Sansa licked her lips...