Take out her knickers and see what her reaction would be

Taylor was just such an interesting person, Walter couldn't help but wonder how she would react. Without the safety of his watch, it was a bit dangerous. But that just made it more thrilling.

“Excuse me,” Taylor said, “but the train will be arriving in ten minutes.”

Reaching into his pocket, Walter withdrew the white silk knickers, running his hands along the waistband. He made sure that Taylor could see the gear emblazoned on the waistband. Taylor gasped in shock, her hands instantly going to her pants. She undid her belt and peeked in, sighing in relief when she confirmed that, yes, she was still wearing her knickers. "W-w-where did you get those?"

"That's a secret, Lady Taylor." Walter smirked at her. It was nice seeing her finally flustered. She really hadn't been when he forcibly stripped her before, most likely because she had planned on killing him. And, to be fair, he would have deserved it. Honestly, if someone else stripped his sister naked, he would beat their head in with a walking stick. But this time, all he had done was taken out a pair of knickers. Taylor probably wouldn't kill him for that.

Taylor was already shocked by his reveal of a pair of knickers that matched her own, but with him calling her by her name, she was even more taken aback. "You... who are you?"

Walter bowed exaggeratedly. "Walter, at your service. Why don't you sit down and we can discuss the terms of me returning your knickers to you."

Awkwardly, Taylor took a seat next to Charlotte, balling her hands up angrily, her knuckles white as she clutched her hands into fists. For her part, Charlotte mostly looked confused why her brother had someone else's knickers.

"Brother mine, why do you have a train conductor's knickers? And how? I thought all train conductors were male. Is he one of those cross dressers? And what is it with your obsession with knickers? Why, not five minutes ago, you were pulling on mine!" Charlotte asked.

Walter gestured towards Taylor. "Why don't you show my dear sister that you're a girl, Lady Taylor? We can start the negotiations once you're removed your shirt and pants. And dear sister? Do be quiet, or the front of your knickers will shortly find itself over your head."

Charlotte instantly shut up. For her part, though she was flustered Taylor removed her shirt, but paused at her pants. "If you know who I am, you should know that I could just kill you."

"But you won't," Walter said cheerfully, taking the time to look at Taylor's chest, concealed behind her white brassiere. Oh, to be sure he had seen it before, but Taylor had been much less embarrassed about it that time. This time, the young woman's face was beet red, her arms crossed awkwardly over her brassiere. Still, that left her smooth stomach that would make anyone jealous exposed. Even his sister, quite the beautiful girl in her own right, looked over at Taylor's midriff, before surreptitiously pinching her own tummy, her eyes flashing with jealousy. Walter continued to speak. "Because, after all, the Clockwork Tower isn't that kind of organization. Oh, I'm sure if I forcibly undressed you, you would be more than happy to put a bullet through my head, right?" Taylor nodded in agreement. "On the other hand, I am not forcing you to do anything, I am simply offering you a chance to re-acquire your knickers."

"I will give you 10,000 pounds," Taylor offered immediately.

Walter ignored her, and just held up the knickers, staring at them closely. He hadn't really had a chance before, but they really were finely crafted. The silk was soft to the touch, the waistband was the perfect tightness for Taylor's thin waist. Most knickers in these days either used some sort of elastic or were made quite tight. Some still had drawstrings, like the drawers of old, but those hadn't been in use for a few decades, owing to a breakthrough in fashion in... France, maybe? Walter was unsure, but he certainly appreciated the results, as these new knickers, compared to the old drawers, were much more fashionable.

Taylor gave a few more offers while he was lost in thought, before finally, through gritted teeth, she pulled her pants down to her ankles, exposing her knickers that matched the ones Walter was currently caressing.

"Right, 100,000 pounds you said?" Walter said, finally responding to her. Taylor, in a very unladylike manner, raised a middle finger towards him.

"Even I would have trouble justifying that expense," Taylor said angrily. "Come on, you already have me in my undergarments, something that very few people could say that they've seen, though I assure you many would want to."

"Indeed. I'm sure no one would believe me if I told them that the heir of the Clockwork Tower willingly stripped to her knickers and brassiere. I suppose asking you to remove either remaining article would be too far?" Walter asked, raising an eyebrow.

Taylor's anger disappeared and she smiled charmingly at him. She really was so perfect, her mouth opened just enough to reveal a set of pearly white teeth, all perfectly straight. "No, I'd do it. In fact, I'd do it willingly. Do you want me to?"

Walter laughed. "If I did, you would have justification to kill me, right? Nice try though, Tay."

Her face instantly twisted back to anger, and Taylor ground her teeth. "Tch. Fine. But 10,000 is seriously as much as I can do."

"Oh, forget the money. I'm not so poor as to need it. Instead, what say we do this. I will have your backing during my time at Atlas Academy. You are not allowed to tell anyone about this incident, nor are you allowed to take action against me because of it. And finally..." Taylor leaned forwards, eagerly, forgetting to cover her chest. It gave Walter quite a good view of her cleavage, that soft, deep, inviting valley contained within her brassiere. So far, none of the terms were particularly difficult for her. "From now on, I am allowed to call you Tay, without any repercussions."

Taylor winced. "That last one... I am still the heir to the Clockwork Tower, you know? Isn't it quite presumptuous for you to call me so casually? In fact, even just calling me Taylor is a bit..."

"Then how about I spank you?" Walter offered.

Taylor winced even more. "...fine."

"What, really?" Walter looked at her in shock. "Are you really that adverse to a nickname? Personally I think it's cute."

"So do I," Taylor muttered. "But as heir, I have to maintain some decorum, alright? I can't just allow anyone to call me such a familiar name."

"And yet, being spanked is somehow more proper?"

Taylor sighed and looked up with a wry grin. "Well, yes. After all, I've been spanked before. Quite a lot really." At Walter and Charlotte's looks of shock--after all, who would dare to spank the heir of the Clockwork Tower, Taylor rolled her eyes. "Do you think it's easy being heir? You have so many expectations, so many rules you have to follow. Besides, I'm usually quite lazy. Oh, the amount of times my tutors took a switch to my behind..."

"Well..." Walter didn't really know how to respond. His mother and father had, of course, spanked Charlotte and him on occasion, but neither were really to inclined to it. His mother was too frail for it to really be an effective punishment, and while their father was certainly strong enough to bring either of them to tears--a single blow from the man was enough to knock an ox down--their father was also usually the one who incited their antics, or at the very least supported their actions. So, in his family, spanking was a rare occurrence. "You know, you are being awfully casual, Lady Taylor."

Taylor shrugged. "Well, you've seen me in my undergarments." Something that she just now realized she was still dressed in, and quickly leaned back, covering her chest and crossing her legs, her face still beet red. "So, no real need to be formal. In fact, I don't mind if you call me Tay in private, I just can't agree to any deal that would allow you to be so informal in public."

Her logic escaped him, but perhaps that was just the logic of the city folk. Walter wouldn't know, having come from a small village. Still. "In that case, spanking?"

Grumbling, Taylor stood up and turned around, bending over. Her knickers wrapped around her shapely behind, the soft, silk material hiding soft and silky skin. "Only 18 spanks, alright?"

"Is that for your age?" Charlotte asked, interacting with Taylor directly for the first time. Taylor nodded, and Charlotte pumped her fist slightly. "I'm older!" she declared, puffing up her chest.

Rolling his eyes, Walter pulled on a glove and stood up, positioning himself behind Taylor. Her legs were squeezed together so there wasn't even any sign of a cameltoe, but it was still a nice view nonetheless. "You're 18 and a half, dear sister."

"Wait, then I'm older!" Taylor declared. She looked over at Charlotte with a sense of superiority. "I'm 18 and three quarters!"

"Apparently you're both 10," Walter muttered. "Comparing ages, really? Still, if you're that old, shouldn't we round up?"

"Urk!" Taylor coughed awkwardly, realizing her boasting had just gotten her an additional spank. "Well. Fine. By the way, why the glove?"

Walter shrugged. "Because I am not so crass as to place my hands on a woman's knickers." Charlotte and Taylor both coughed and looked pointedly at the knickers that he still held in his hand. "...Both of you, would you rather I put my hands on your knickers right now? I assure you, you will not be receiving them back."

Both women shivered and quieted down, Charlotte fidgeting at the reminder of where her knickers currently were, courtesy of the last time her brother had put his hands on them. Taylor did, however, not remain quiet for that long. Her yelps of pain as Walter brought his hand down on her almost unprotected buttocks were quite loud. Walter was glad that the compartment was soundproofed.

Rubbing her bottom, Taylor winced. She pulled her pants up and shirt on, before holding out a hand, blushing even more fiercely at having been spanked by an unfamiliar man, in addition, of course, to the humiliation from having to strip to her undergarments in the first place to even negotiate the spanking. Walter raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Lady Taylor?"

She glared at him, face reddening even more at having to say it. "May. I. Have. My. Knickers back?!"

"Of course." Walter placed them in her hand and she pocketed them, before turning to leave. "...Walter, right? I will find out how you got my knickers and knew who I was! Not even my father can do that. To that end, I'll be watching you closely."

Walter nodded. "Well, that's only fair. After all, I've been watching you closely for the past while."

Taylor blushed at the reminder, and stormed out of the compartment, slamming the door behind her.

Charlotte watched her go, eyes narrowed. "You seem quite close to her for that being the first time you met her, brother dearest."

“Well, of course that wasn't the first time I've met her." His sister looked confused and Walter waved her off. "I will tell you one day, I promise you. Just not now."

His sister nodded obediently. "Well... you know best, brother. Though I wish you would be less perverted towards others."

Walter ruffled her hair. "Then is it fine towards you, sweet sister?" His finger reached behind her and traced the waistband of her knickers, stretched up and hooked to her brassiere as it still was.

Charlotte blushed, huffed, and turned away, pointedly looking at the quickly approaching station.

Any words she would have said were cut off by the screech of brakes as the train pulled to a halt. Walter reached up and pulled his suitcase from the rack above the seats. A few seconds later, his sister’s suitcase joined his.

“Come, sister mine. I can manage to stay awake at odd hours, but if I could, I would rather get some amount of rest before tomorrow.” Charlotte agreed, following after her brother. She did, however, seem unusually attached to his arm.

As they stepped from the train, Walter looked around. His uncle was supposed to meet them here. And there he was.

“Walter m’ boy! ‘Ow ya doin’?” the large, broad shouldered man shouted as he pushed through the crowd. Walter moved towards him and raised an arm in greeting, his other arm being clutched by his sister.

“Hello, Uncle Thompson. It is good to see you again.”

Uncle Thompson gave a hearty chuckle. “Aye, tis’ that.” He glanced over towards where Charlotte was clutching to Walter’s arm barely staying awake. “Ah, but there’ll be time ‘nough later. Let’s get you two rugrats back to my brother’s place so you can get some sleep. And me as well, I’d reckon.”

“As you say,” Walter said, following his uncle with his sister and their luggage in tow. “Though two things, quickly. First, why on earth are you tired? Don’t you just sit about Uncle Charleston’s house all day?”

Uncle Thompson frowned. “I do more than that. I cook too, sometimes. Help out the servants as well. I believe I got in a fist fight with a goose once. And I read. Why, you’ll never find a better read sailor upon all the seas!”

“Not all together the most difficult thing, considering most sailors can’t read.” Walter sighed. “Though I guess I can’t really fault you for laziness, considering that I’ve never done an honest day’s work in my life.”

“You wound me, Walter m’ boy,” Thompson said. The man’s face darkened slightly, but Walter smiled up at his uncle to show that no real harm was meant by his words. The man may be a failed merchant who did nothing but sit about his brother’s house and waste the day away, but at the very least he was something. Which was more than Walter was right now.

“The second point,” Walter said, breaking from his thoughts. “I must admit, Uncle, I have never heard the word rugrat before.”

Uncle Thompson smiled, any touch of his slight bad mood at Walter’s blunt statement of his situation gone. “Of course not. I made it up myself, dinn ya know? ‘S what I call children. Ya know, because they’re like little rats, always scurrying around across the rugs like this and that and driving the womenfolk up the walls while the menfolk just look at them and go ‘I dunno see the problem,’”

“I do not think,” Walter said tiredly, “that I like being called that much. Neither my sister nor I are children. We are adults now.”

“Adults? Bah, you aren’t an adult until you’ve slept with a lass, drunk a keg on your own, and killed a man, regardless of your age,” Uncle Thompson said.

“I can see why father dislikes you so much,” Walter sighed. It was far too late at night to be dealing with his Uncle Thompson.

“Aye, you little rugrat you. He finds me disagreeable for all the reasons you like me, is not that so?” Uncle Thompson stopped walking for a second and turned around. “But here, no reason to tire you out more.” And so saying, he picked Charlotte and Walter up and tossed them onto his shoulder like they were bags of potatoes or the like. Waving to one of the servants that was nearby to grab their luggage, the man set a brisk pace towards their method of transportation.

“I do not think that I like being carried like this either,” Walter complained from where he was slung like a sack of potatoes.

Uncle Thompson turned his head to look at the teen on his shoulder. “Too bad I care oh so little for what you like and dislike.”

Walter sighed and resigned himself to the indignity of being hoisted in the air as if he were nothing more than produce to be sent to market. After all, one did not win an argument with Uncle Thompson. The teen had only met Thompson twice before, and the man was the most bull-headed thing he had seen. And he meant that literally. The last time Uncle Thompson had visited their family, some four years ago, he had gotten into a wrestling match with a full grown ox. It was an even fight, at least until Uncle Thompson decided to headbutt the ox. Only one of them was left standing after that, and to be sure it was not the ox.

“Alley-oop!” his uncle cried as he tossed Walter and Charlotte into the waiting car, where they landed in the backseat in a tangle of limbs. Their luggage followed quickly after, and soon they were driving.