“Hey babe, you okay?” Danny asked Emma. “Are you limping?
”Just a little,” she smiled back at him as they walked along one of the hiking trails at a nearby national park. Oliver and Ben were up ahead, stopped at a bench and drinking from their water bottles. He lifted an eyebrow skeptically.
”Seriously!” she said. “You know how I get that twinge in my knee.”
Danny did know; she’d injured it playing high school basketball. It usually took a lot more walking than they had been doing so far to irritate it, though. Reluctantly, he nodded and said, “Alright. Let me know if it gets any worse.”
”I will,” she said brightly as they reached the other couple. The four them spent a couple weekends a month out hiking or taking little road trips to surrounding tourist traps and local attractions; this was one of their favorite trails. Emma took a swig of her water, and they discussed whether they wanted to go out to eat after.
Ten minutes minutes later, Ben found himself closest to Emma, who was still at the tail end of their small posse. He turned, waiting for her to catch up, and saw her face.
”Heeey, hey hey what’s going on?” he said quietly, walking the few steps back to her.
”Hm? I’m fine,” she said, continuing to walk slowly forward and keeping her face down, aside from a quick smile up that was probably supposed to be re-assuring but completely missed the mark.
”You are so not fine. You’re sweating like we’re climbing a mountain.”
”I’m fine,” Emma ground out. Ben walked backward in front of her, as if to prove the ease of this hike as he took stock. Her complexion was sallow and he could see the effort it was taking her to maintain even her slow gait. Ben rolled his eyes, his thumbs hooked under the straps of his backpack as he turned to see how far ahead their boyfriends were.
Turning back, he said, “Something isn’t right and Danny is going to blow a gasket if he hears it from me and not you.”
”Just go, I’ll catch up. My knee hurts a little but it’s no big deal and Danny already knows.”
Ben sighed, his perplexion clear as he looked back and forth from Emma to Danny. “And Oliver is gonna want to look at it, and you can’t hide anything from him.”
Emma’s expression turned fierce as she said “Don’t say anything! We’re almost at the end and I just want to get through it without being carried or fussed over. I’ll tell him in the car. It isn’t that bad.”
Just as she spoke, her foot landed on a root, making her wince and bite her lip to keep from crying out. Ben groaned to himself as he watched, then took a deep breath.
”Danny! Oliver!!!! Come back this way.”
”No! No stop it what are you doing!!?” Emma hissed. Her eyes were wide and she looked at Ben accusingly.
He shrugged guiltily; in the next second the other men were back. First they looked curious, but one and then the other followed Ben’s gaze to Emma. Still shocked at having been ratted out, she was not looking down or letting her hair obscure her face. It was obvious that she was in pain.
Oliver began to walk toward her but Danny held out his arm, stopping him from moving forward. “Emma, walk over here to me,” he said sternly.
She looked up and saw three concerned faces looking down at her. It was too much attention, exactly the thing she had wanted to avoid, and tears pricked her eyes.
Danny sighed resignedly and walked over to her instead, put his hands on either side of her face, and kissed her forehead. “Alright, let’s have a look.”
”It’s really not—“
”Enough,” Danny cut her off. “C’mere, Ben,” he continued as he stepped to her side.
”No!” Emma said, realizing what was about to happen. “No absolutely not!”
“Emma,” Oliver said firmly as he watched Ben and Danny prepare to lift her up, “the more you weight you put in it, the more risk you put yourself in. There’s another bench not too far ahead.”
Danny raised an eyebrow at Emma, who looked at Oliver and then at him. She crossed her arms, silently acquiescencing but refusing to look at either of them. “Good,” Danny said, as he and his brother formed a sort of seat with their arms. They worked together with the ease of two people who had hiked and camped together many times, and soon Emma was being carted down the trail.
Before long, she was seated and Oliver was kneeling in front of her and gently removing her left tennis shoe and peeling down her sock. He swore quietly as he saw how swollen and discolored her ankle was, and Danny turned and walked several feet down the trail and back, one arm across his chest as the other hand dragged down his chin. It was obvious to the entire group that he would like nothing more than to upend his girlfriend right there in the middle of the woods, but was resisting. Barely.
The first aid kit was in Oliver’s backpack, and he quickly fished out two ibuprofen and an ace bandage. When he was finished wrapping her ankle and Emma was righted again, Danny took his place, kneeling in front of his injured girl.
“We’re going to carry you back to the car,” he said in his most serious voice. “And you aren’t going to give us any trouble or I will spank you in the back seat, and then again when we get home.”
Emma’s ears and face burned with embarrassment. “But my ankle…” she said weakly.
“I’m not going to spank your ankle, little girl. I’m going to spank your bottom.” He didn’t bother to keep his voice down; Ben looked away, embarrassed, while Oliver gave her a look that said clearly he was on the same page as Danny.
”Do you understand me?”
Small tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and this time it was Emma who nodded reluctantly. She might have kept pushing if they hadn’t ridden together, but the idea of the boys waiting awkwardly while Danny spanked her, or worse, sitting in the front seats, made her too scared.
“Are we clear?” Danny pushed; Emma whispered “Yes, sir.”
He turned to Oliver and said, “Thank you. What should we do for it when we get home?”
”Keep it elevated, keep it iced. Try to keep weight off of it. If it doesn’t look better by tomorrow or the pain gets worse, you need to go see someone and probably get some x-rays done.”
Though Oliver was answering Danny, he had his eyes on Emma. She squirmed on her bench, keeping her own eyes on the ground. This day had suddenly gone horribly wrong, and she was still trying to wrap her mind around it.
Before long, and with many glares but no complaining, Emma was buckled in the front passenger seat while Danny drove them back toward Ben and Oliver’s car. Emma could barely say goodbye when they parted. Ben looked pitiful as he got into their vehicle.
Oliver leaned his arms on Emma’s open window and said over her, to Danny: “Make sure she doesn’t kick too much later. And text me in the morning if you think about it, give me an update.”
”One of us will,” Danny said, starting the car. He looked at his girlfriend. “Kicking is not going to be an issue, is it, Emma?”
Emma slunk down in her seat another two inches and shook her head quickly from side to side. Her face radiated heat as Oliver reached in and ruffled her hair, then tapped the side of the car and said “Talk tomorrow,” and went to join Ben.
The ride home was quiet. Danny’s hand drifted automatically to rest on Emma’s thigh as he drove. It comforted her, though she would occasionally become aware of the warmth from his palm and it would make her squirm. She couldn’t believe he was going to spank her. She had known he would be unhappy, but was counting on his sympathy to get her out of trouble. Her ankle really did hurt, though the painkillers Oliver had given her were starting to kick in a little.
“I’m going to help you up the stairs, and then we are both going to get changed and have a talk,” he said when they pulled into their driveway. Emma swallowed but didn’t say anything. He exited the car and then opened her door for her, offering his support as she climbed out and hobbled inside.
Emma felt a little better once they were cleaned up, though she dreaded the next part. He had set the hairbrush down on his dresser with a clatter as soon as they had walked into the room, so of course she couldn’t stop looking at it.
Now they sat beside each other on the bed and he had his arm around her. “I’m not happy with you, young lady.”
Emma’s chest tightened at his words and she mumbled, “I know, sir.”
He gave her shoulder a squeeze, then said “You were deceptive.”
”I just didn’t want…” she began, her voice trembling, but she couldn’t quite finish her thought. Danny said “I know. And I understand. But it was not the right choice.”
Emma nodded feebly and swiped a stray tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. This, more than anything else, made her feel regret. Danny reached over toward the head of the bed, grabbing two pillows and then placing them on Emma’s other side. Her bottom lip protruded automatically, but she didn’t say anything.
As he walked over to get the brush— a task that would usually have been Emma’s— he said “The only reason you aren’t in a chair in the corner right now is because you are going to be spending most of your day in time out. Laying right here, in fact.”
Emma looked at the floor, too wrapped up in Danny’s disappointment now to feel defiant; she just nodded. Knowing they would both feel much better after, Danny sat again, putting the hairbrush aside and carefully helping Emma arrange herself across his lap with her foot propped up. She had changed into a T-shirt and loose fitting shorts, which he pulled down immediately, along with her underwear.
He rested his hand on the cool skin of her backside and said, “I don’t expect that leg to move. A little girl who can walk silently with a busted ankle has plenty of willpower to get through a spanking. Understood?”
”Yes, sir,” Emma said into her arms. Her ankle throbbed dully, but she knew it was about to become a mere background annoyance. Danny wrapped his right arm around her middle, lifted his left hand, and began to spank her.
His hand thundered down from the very first swat, making Emma gasp and reach for a pillow herself, one to clutch tightly in front of her. While her injured leg remained motionless, her other leg twitched and she made constant noise. Danny brought his large hand down well below her bottom and she squealed. He worked methodically, covering every spankable inch with his palm.
Before long, she was shifting her hips this way and that, still managing to keep her leg still but beginning to struggle. Danny’s left hand paused its assault on her backside to reach down and wrap around her calf muscle, insuring that her leg wouldn’t move. He then used his other hand to lay down some tremendously powerful swats to her already punished bottom.
She felt the distribution of force change as well as the strength behind the spanking. She pushed her palms into the bed and bent her back, eyes shut tightly as she shrieked, “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.” But it was to no avail. He landed dozens of swats in the same two spots, and she yelled and cried through every one of them.
She didn’t relax her arms and lay back on the bed until he finished, and his right hand was once again around her waist. His left hand glided gently across the hot skin of her bottom and thighs, observing the changes in her skin and feeling the heat radiating from her body.
”This is a new version of an old habit, young lady. One I have not tolerated before and will not tolerate now.” Danny reached over to her nightstand and grabbed a bottle of lotion. He lectured as he applied it to her hot skin. “People are allowed to worry about you, and take care of you when you need it. Just like you take care of other people.”
Emma groaned into her arms again. She hated this part as much as she hated everything else about being in trouble— a fact that didn’t faze Danny in the least. He continued, “You are not allowed, however, to keep your needs hidden. Not from me. And not by lying to me.”
Tears ran down Emma’s cheeks again as she was confronted with the truth in barest of terms. She had let her pride get in the way of good decision making, and then stuck to a bad decision for the same reason. And in the end she had still made everyone worry, had still become the center of attention, and had also ended up in trouble.
Danny’s voice was deadly as he said, “That is not allowed. Ever.” She felt him pick up the hairbrush, and he let it rest on her bottom as he continued, “If you can’t keep your leg still, we will try this again tomorrow from the beginning. And we’ll keep trying until you make it or are healed enough to kick.”
Emma groaned again, balling the comforter up in her hands. She didn’t know how she was going to make it through a hairbrush spanking without being able to kick her feet, but she also didn’t want this to happen all over again.
Danny didn’t think kicking was going to be an issue, but he wanted Emma to feel the gravity of his command, to put the same stubborn energy into taking her punishment that she had put into earning it.
After several noncommittal noises, Emma finally mumbled, “Yessir.”
Danny raised the wooden implement immediately and began spanking again, waking up every tender nerve ending that had been coaxed into relaxing moments ago. It seemed that all of the energy that usually fueled Emma’s wiggly legs now found its way to her lungs as she wailed. Danny watched her leg carefully as he spanked her, again being thorough and not neglecting her thighs for more than a moment.
He knew she was about to be spending at least 24 hours mostly on her behind, and he wanted her thinking about her spanking the entire time she was recovering. She had gotten much better at being honest with him, and perhaps more importantly, honest with herself when she needed help.
He didn’t want any sort of relapse into that bad habit, though, and so he didn’t hesitate to bring the solid wooden hairbrush down unpityingly on her bottom. He was unaffected by her crying, unaffected by her wailing, unaffected by her eventual begging. His goal was to drive this lesson home, and so he focused on that until her bottom was swollen and sore and the comforter was wet with her tears.
When he did eventually slow and then stop, it took Emma several minutes to get her breathing under control. She lay over his lap, mopping her face with a tissue he had handed her, and he let his sturdy palms become gentle again.
When she was ready, he gently moved her to the bed, repositioning her ankle on the pillows before laying beside her and holding her on his chest. Well-spanked, sore, and exhausted, Emma was soon fast asleep.