Bath Interrupted


Edith gasped when the bathroom door flew open.  She looked up, eyes wide as the brief moment of terror subsided and was replaced with an entirely different sort of fear.  Fight or flight instincts were turned into “oh shit oh shit oh shit.”  This was no intruder.

Her fingers wrapped around her glass of whiskey and her toes curled, invisible beneath bath water that had been dyed purple by a lavender scented bath bomb.

Paul spotted her phone and paused the audiobook that had covered the sounds of him coming home. When his eyes refocused on her, Edith couldn’t maintain his gaze.  She looked down at the gently sloshing water.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hello, Edith,” Paul replied as he stepped closer, squatted down, and held out his hand.  Timidly, she handed him her glass and then the little Bluetooth speaker on the soap shelf.  He took both and placed them on the sink, then returned and sat on the edge of the tub, where he began to roll up the cuff of his right shirtsleeve.  Edith took a deep breath, feeling a bit like a mouse in a trap now. The tub wasn’t really big enough for lounging, but it’s what was available and she had wanted a bath.

Paul didn’t mind what she was doing; it was what she hadn’t done.  It was the pile of dishes that had been cluttering the sink for two days now.  It was her saying, “No I’ll take care of them, don’t touch them, I just need to do it,” and “I swear I’m going to, I just got busy,” and finally today, when he had decided enough was enough, “Okay okay, yes sir.”

And he had left it at that.  He didn’t give too many direct orders and she didn’t break too many of them.  Even now, he knew that she was counting on him being home much later, and so was still procrastinating.  She hadn’t intended to disobey.  But he didn’t put too much stock in intention.

“Come here,” he said sternly.

She had, up until that point, been pressing herself against the back of the small fiberglass tub.  Distance seemed like the safer choice right now, but defiance wasn’t an option when he was this quiet. She bit her lip as she slid slowly down, the water barely moving.  He raised his eyebrows and she flushed, then got to her knees in front of him.  The warm water came up to the middle of her thighs, and she thought she had never felt so small.

For once, though, Paul didn’t make her sit with her embarrassment. He was too irritated, and so wasted no time now. He gripped her bicep with his left hand and pulled her out of the water. She gasped as her stomach hit the edge of the tub and her hands grabbed at the towel she had folded on the floor. And now his hand was off her arm, now resting on the small of her back, now keeping her in place as his right hand landed on her upturned wet bottom.

Her body was bent neatly in half, and she felt his displeasure rock through her with every swat. She tried to concentrate on anything else: the cooling sensation as her torso dried, the boom of her spanking in the small space, the grout of the floor tiles that now lay inches from her nose.

Nothing worked for long, but in time her squealing subsided as the initial sting faded and she became accustomed to the thud of his palm.  Paul sensed the shift though and her peace was short-lived. He stopped spanking and started talking.

”Don’t you move,” he said. Edith covered her face with her hands and nodded into them, mortified to be stuck in such a vulnerable position. “We aren’t finished here.”

Edith heard the sudden rush of water leaving the bath as he pulled the plug, then felt him stand briefly and sit again. She figured out what was happening moments before the stingy plastic of the bathbrush landed squarely on her left cheek, and she shrieked. If she hadn’t been so loud, she would have heard the small satisfied noise he made at this.

Edy had struggled to keep her legs still before, and now she lost that battle entirely.  Paul didn’t even like the plastic brush, which was why he had let it live in the shower. There was no denying its effectiveness though, he thought, as he watched her body wiggle. Small purple waves rippled across the tub, growing smaller every second as the water drained. He didn’t stop spanking her until the last little funnel of water had disappeared and he could hear sobs catching in her throat.

He stood again, hung up the brush, and told her to stand. She did, and he was satisfied to see her tears reversing course as she found herself righted.

She shivered and he saw her hands pressed against her sides, wanting desperately to rub her now swollen bottom.  He thumbed a fresh tear from her cheek and then rested his hand on the back of her neck as they made eye contact.

”Rinse off. Finish the dishes. Meet me in the bedroom.”

She made a pitiful sound of consent, otherwise standing completely still and resisting the urge to ask for more comfort. She wanted it desperately, but she wouldn’t get it until the punishment was over— and he had just made it clear that it wasn’t over at all.

He nodded, released her neck, and left the bathroom. After a pause, she reached slowly over to close the nylon curtain. She sniffled as she turned on the water, adjusted the shower head, and wondered what was going to happen in the bedroom.


Checking In


Ellen pursed her lips as she surveyed the backyard, which was littered with solo cups, ping pong balls, and wet towels.  The morning sun caught on a piece of glass near the pool edge, the remnants of a shattered Bud Light bottle.  She turned to her boyfriend, Jason, and said, “I’m gonna kill her.”

“Erin Joy Connolly!” she yelled as she walked inside the house, Jason following.  Ellen had come over to check up on her younger sister, who had their parents’ house to herself for the weekend.  They were away, but Ellen lived close by and had promised to stop in.  Erin had texted Ell the day before, letting her know that her best friend would be spending the night.  No big deal, as far as Ellen was concerned. Cassidy had spent as many nights at the Connollys as she had in her own home growing up.  She was practically family and currently sleeping on the sofa in the living room.

Erin stirred as Ellen barged in, unwinding from her curled-up position in the large leather armchair where she’d slept.  Her bleary eyes flew open as she registered Ellen’s presence.

“Cassidy! Erin! Up!” the older girl continued, slamming her palm down loudly on the coffee table several times. “Wake up!”

Erin saw Jason standing behind Ellen, hands on his hips and a bemused smile on his face as he took in the situation.  He shook his head from side to side, and Erin thought he might have let out a cartoony-doomed whistle on her behalf if Ellen wasn’t so fired up.  She felt a rush of heat travel up her neck at his presence.

“You, move it,” she heard Ellen say to her, and soon the younger girls were sitting on the couch together amid a pile of blankets.  They both wore overlarge t-shirts, the remnants of last night’s make-up, and worried expressions.  Ellen towered over them, hands on her hips and her own expression forbidding. “What happened?” she ground out.

Cassidy crossed her arms sullenly and looked down at her bare feet, while Erin looked at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and said “We just had some people over and it wasn’t a big deal and we’re going to clean up later… we just didn’t know you… like we thought we had time this afternoon.”

“Do not tell me what is or isn’t a big deal, young lady.  The backyard is trashed, and this obviously wasn’t a PG party.  None of you are old enough to drink, much less be serving alcohol to your friends.  Is that the kind of house they think this is?  The one where the parents don’t care?”

“No!” said Erin, “They knew Mom and Dad were out of town and–”

“And that you were being sneaky.  That you were doing it behind their backs.  And behind my back.”

Erin flushed again, and Cassidy said quickly, “Nobody who was drinking drove home!  There were a couple of DDs and everyone else ordered rides.”

“Good,” replied Ellen, “I’m glad.  That was a good policy.  It’s also the bare minimum of what I expect.  What are your parents going to say, Cassidy?”

“Please don’t…” she said haltingly.  “Seriously Ell, they’ll ground me until Christmas…”

“You know you can stay here, and you know what that means,” Ellen answered her sternly.  Heat poured off Cassidy’s face as she nodded her understanding.

“Jason!”  Ellen yelled suddenly, making Erin jump.  He’d slipped out earlier without anyone noticing, but now he came strolling back into the room, saying “You don’t have to shout.  The kitchen isn’t exactly soundproof.”

“Sorry,” Ellen said, “just need to borrow your belt please.”

Jason glanced at the couch with an expression Erin couldn’t quite read.  Sympathy?  No, not exactly.  More like regret on her behalf.  He  didn’t hesitate to fulfill Ellen’s request.  Two pairs of eyes followed his hands as he undid the buckle, the clinking sounds followed by a slick whoosh as he pulled it from the loops, doubled it over, and handed it to his girlfriend. “Thank you,” Ellen said.”  Jason tipped an imaginary hat, turned, and went back into the kitchen.

The kitchen where he can hear everything, Erin thought to herself.  She closed her eyes and flung herself back on the couch, feeling begrudgingly resigned to her fate. Erin noticed, and quirked an eyebrow at the younger girl before snapping the belt loudly and saying, “Cassidy, you’re up first.”

Cassidy reached automatically for her friend, hand grasping her thigh briefly before she managed to stand up.  Ellen indicated that she should lay over the arm of the now vacated recliner, which she did.  Cassidy wore only yellow bikini cut underwear under her t-shirt, which rose as she bent and covered nothing in her new position.

Ellen reached out to jerk the girl’s underwear down to midthigh; Cassidy groaned and buried her face in her hands.  Ellen brought the belt down with a satisfying snap, watching the thick stripe appear on the girl’s bottom before laying another over it.  Immediately, Cassidy’s feet began to lift from the ground, just an inch or two, but she couldn’t help herself.  “Ow, ow, ow,” fell softly from her mouth, as repetitive as the constant licks of leather on her backside.

“Ow, but I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she finally broke, but it only made Ellen swing the belt harder.  She didn’t speak; she didn’t think she needed to.  There was nothing unclear about what had gone wrong. The girls had been deceitful, had broken half a dozen rules and lied about it, and they deserved to be punished.  And so, she kept on laying into Cassidy’s backside long after it had become swollen, after her apologies had bubbled up and disappeared again, after a puddle of tears had begun to form on the cushioned seat.

She didn’t stop until she felt confident that Cassidy would feel the soreness in her bottom every time she bent to pick up a discarded beer can or retrieve a stray towel.  Then, finally, she set the belt down on the coffee table in front of her waiting sister; Erin sat curled with her knees under the tent of her shirt and her left thumbnail in her mouth.  Ellen pulled up Cassidy’s panties until they rested just below the curve of her cheeks and handed her a tissue as she squatted on the opposite side of the chair so she could look the young woman in the eye.  “I do not expect to have this discussion again.  Do you understand me?”

Cassidy took a shuddery breath and nodded, at which point Ellen stood. “Good. Find your corner. Erin, get over here.”

Erin would have groaned if it hadn’t felt disrespectful to her friend to do so.  But somehow she couldn’t let herself make any noise of dissent after watching Cassidy take her spanking.  They briefly grasped hands as they passed each other, squeezing and releasing. Then Erin was bending over the fat cushion of the arm chair and Cassidy had found a corner she was all too familiar with and neatly clasped her hands behind her back, her obviously spanked backside in clear view of the sisters.

Ellen was no less firm with her sister. Soon it was Erin squealing and wiggling, being spanked thoroughly by her big sister, and eventually squalling and apologizing.

Again, Ellen didn’t end the punishment until she felt sure there would be a lasting effect, both on the girl’s behavior and her swollen bottom. When she finally heard the belt clink against the coffee table, Erin did not find the same relief her friend had moments ago. For her, there was one more step.

She still gasped as her stomach hit Ellen’s lap, having never gotten used to being hauled from place to place. She shrieked as her sister’s palm flew across her bottom. The swats individually couldn’t compete with the worn leather of Jason’s belt, but Erin spanked so fast and her backside was already so sore that Erin kicked wildly.

No matter what the crime, Ellen always ended a spanking this way. She used to lecture Erin about how she was held to an exceptional standard as her little sister, but these days she let her hand do the talking.

The final sharp smack landed, and Ellen pulled the girl up for a brief hug before sending her with a pop to her own corner. Much to Erin’s horror, she heard Jason enter the room a moment later. This time he did whistle, saying to Ellen casually, “You think you got your point across, babe?”

Erin said only, “Girls?”

One “yes, ma’am” came on the heels of the other, and then the only sound was the jingle of Jason’s belt as he threaded it back through the loops of his jeans.

Erin couldn’t stop picturing the two of them taking in the sight of her and her best friend, bare and sniffling in the corners. They had felt so grown-up last night. Now Erin felt nothing of the sort and knew Cassidy must be feeling the same.

Her pity-party was interrupted by Ellen, who told them to pull up their underwear and come over. Both complied, tugging needlessly at the hems of their long T-shirts as they let her hug them, one then the other.

”We’re going to get lunch,” Ellen told them. “We’ll bring you something back. I want to see significant progress.” Her voice grew stern again at the end, and both girls nodded their understanding.

”Bye for now,” she continued, and Jason said “Bye, guys,” as he followed Ellen out of the door. Neither Erin nor Cassidy could summon their voices fast enough to reply. They exchanged watery glances as the back door shut again, then began the search for loose pants so they could start cleaning up.



“Wanna make it twenty?”

Edith stood with her arms crossed in the corner, glaring at the wall. Her dress was pulled up, revealing striped hipster underwear and an as-yet unspanked backside. Her posture radiated defiance, but she kept her mouth shut.

Paul nodded to himself and returned to his phone. He kept one eye on her as the timer counted down the minutes, watched her shift and heard her sigh and thought about how satisfying it was going to be to spank her round bottom. The temptation to throw her over his knee earlier had been close to overwhelming. He had resisted because he didn’t like the way she was trying to force his hand. He wasn’t going to have that.

He wasn’t fighting her on her poor cornertime position or the fidgeting, though she knew it wouldn’t go unnoticed. She stilled as time wound down and the spanking became imminent, even stealing a worried glance over her shoulder with two minutes left.

She whipped her head back around when she saw that he was watching, and he decided it had been close enough to fifteen minutes.

He put his phone down on the coffee table next to the waiting hairbrush and said her name. She turned, tugging her dress down and re-crossing her arms. Her eyes fell on the brush and then dropped to her feet. A rebel tear escaped through her lashes and fell down her cheek. She wasn’t ready to stop being angry, even if it was at almost nothing.

She hadn’t gotten her way about bedtime last night and she just hadn’t been able to recover her mood since. As far as he was concerned, this further proved his point that she needed to get more sleep. “Get your butt over here,” he said.

She brushed her fingers quickly across her cheek and stalked over to the couch, looking anywhere but his direction. He held out his hand and waited patiently for her to take it. She kept her gaze pointed at the ceiling but he knew that she saw it. Another angry tear trickled down her face before she could bring herself to put her hand in his, but she did eventually. He pulled her across his lap and lifted her dress. “You, little girl, have earned yourself a sore bottom and early bedtimes for the rest of this week.”

”Paul! No!!! You didn’t say that part before!”

She immediately began scrambling, but he held her easily in place as he reached over to grab the brush. He had been expecting that reaction, but he was done with her attitude. If she needed him to prove that he was in charge, he would do it, and not just by spanking her. That was just going to be his favorite part.

“I said it now. Keep your feet down,” he said firmly as he brought the brush up and down again quickly, the first of many swats in a row. She squealed and pushed her feet against the arm of the couch and grabbed his ankle. “Warm-up! You didn’t warm me up! Paul!”

She kept her feet down but rolled her body back and forth under the onslaught. Paul had no trouble landing the brush solidly on her bottom, despite this. When her hand finally broke rank to cover her backside, he clipped her fingers with the smooth wood. He stopped spanking immediately as he growled “Edy…” He put the brush in his left hand and delicately examined her fingers.

“Sorry! I’m sorry,” she said, knowing that he was going to see no major damage. And after that initial relief…

“Edith,” he said as he roughly moved the offending limb down to be pinned between his knees, “you know better.” He brought his large palm down solidly on her left thigh and then her right. He began to spank them with the same vigor he had been using to paddle her bottom with the hairbrush.

”Ow ow ow, Paul, ow, I’m sorry!” she screeched, but he kept going until her thighs were brilliantly pink well down to her knees. He ran his hand tenderly over her hot skin for a moment at the end, before returning to the original task.

”Little girl,” he said as he put the hairbrush back into his right hand and landed a few light swats on her already sore bottom, “you do not get to pick and choose the rules you follow.”

”Ow, yes sir! Yes sir!” she said breathlessly as he began spanking harder again. She was acquiescing much faster than he had anticipated; being chastised for her reaching hand had put her back in touch with the call to submission she had been ignoring before. She couldn’t keep herself from wiggling and making plenty of noise, but she was trying now.

”And you don’t get to punish me with a bad attitude. I am in charge of punishments here. Is that clear?” He continued to lambaste her bottom and the tops of her thighs with the brush as he scolded her.

”I understand! I do! I won’t be a brat about bedtimes!”

”No, you won’t, or you will find yourself back over my knee without hesitation. I’m serious, little girl.”

”Ow! I know! I know sir!”

He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist and brought the hairbrush down even harder, directing his attention at her sitspots. He ignored her squealing and tipped her slightly forward with his knees so he could do a thorough job.

When he finished, he pulled them both into a standing position. She looked up at him with wide and worried eyes. She wanted to be horizontal with him rubbing her bottom; he hadn’t made her stand because they were finished.

He gently turned her by the shoulders and pointed toward the corner. “You go show me what corner time is supposed to look like.” He sent her that direction with a swat. She scurried into place, letting her hand pass across her bottom briefly as she lifted her dress again. “No rubbing,” he said sharply. Her hand jumped up another inch on the small of her back and he heard her sharp intake of breath. He let her stand there for exactly fifteen minutes, and she barely moved an inch. A little swaying at the end, but he knew she was trying.

When he called her out this time, she turned and practically dove into his arms, tears falling freely now that she had completed her punishment. He smiled and rested his chin on her head. “All better, baby,” he murmured. “All over with.”

She nodded into his chest and managed a watery “thank you.” He gave her a little squeeze and said sincerely, “My pleasure, Edy. My pleasure.”

The Hike


“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.

You Win


“Alright, you win.”

Paul watched her body shrink; she knew a trick when she saw one. He would have smiled if he wasn’t so thoroughly finished with her misbehavior.

”Wait! I was just teasing!” Edith said, somewhere between pleading and defiant.

“No, you were looking for trouble. Guess what?”

”I wasn’t!”

”You were. And now you found it.” Paul retrieved his implement bag from the hall closet as he spoke, glancing at the canes in the back briefly but just as quickly dismissing them. Those wouldn’t work today. Maybe tomorrow, when she was feeling sorted and would fight to be still for him. Yes, definitely tomorrow.

For now, he put the bag on the table and began to rifle through it, purposely letting the various wooden implements clank as he dug for what he wanted.

“You don’t have to,” she said softly as he pulled out a heavy wooden spoon, considered it and then her, and replaced it.

”No, I don’t have to. But you made me want to, little girl. Don’t you worry about that.”

She blushed furiously. He knew she wanted to defend her behavior, but couldn’t quite bring herself to do it.

”No, don’t you worry about that at all,” he said again to himself, pulling a bathbrush from the bag and feeling its weight in his hand. With a glance in her direction, he set it on the table and began to zip the bag up again.

”Paul! I don’t need that!”

”I think you do. And that is a decision I get to make. You only get one decision, and you chose to misbehave. Everything else is up to me.”

She whimpered in a way he had grown used to but still enjoyed. He had finally learned to keep from grinning at her discomfort; it sent her into a dark rebellious place that they didn’t need to visit today. Instead he put his bag away, pulled out a chair, and sat down. “Come here, young lady.”

”Paul…” she said hesitantly.

”Do you want me to count?”

”No, I want you to put the bathbrush away!”


She growled and stalked over to him, arms crossed and glare firmly in place, until she stood at his side in her pajama pants and overlarge t-shirt. “I hate this.”

”You don’t hate it yet,” he said confidently as he patted his lap and then moved his arms out of the way, “but we’ll get there.”

She groaned as she got into position, settling herself over his lap and bracing her hands against the floor. He let her fidget for a moment before adjusting her to his liking. He hadn’t quite been able to break her of the habit of taking most of her weight off of him in this position, but he let it go. She wouldn’t be able to keep her toes or fingers down after a minute.

He began to wrap his left arm around her waist, then decided to yank her pajamas down first. She might fuss regardless, but she liked the way a spanking felt over the thin flannel and he didn’t want her to like any part of this.

”Paul!” she said predictably, but she made no attempt to grab them. That was a habit he had broken and with much sacrifice from her thighs. He patted her blue undies firmly a few times, and then began to spank her in earnest.

Almost immediately, one of her hands found a chair leg to grip and her calf muscles strained to keep her feet down. He spanked her rhythmically, sometimes concentrating on one cheek and then the other, sometimes alternating, but keeping his cadence steady.

”Paul? Paul!” she said as her other hand danced up from the floor, briefly dallied by her hip, and made its way back down. He contemplated snatching it up, but instead decided to let her keep trying. It would be back. He could always catch it then.

”Yes, Edith?” he said conversationally and increasing the force behind his swats a bit. He didn’t intend to be gentle with the bathbrush later and wanted her thoroughly warmed up. “I believe this is what you wanted.”

”I didn’t!” she said stubbornly, and now that she couldn’t see him, he did smile.

”Of course you did, Edy. You could have asked me for a nice spanking. Or even a not so nice spanking. But you wanted to be in trouble.”

”No!” she said, her hands both officially lifting off the floor to grab the lower rung of the chair.

”Oh yes,” he said, still laying into her with hard swats and no breaks. “It’s been too long and you thought you missed the butterflies that come with it.”

”Paul, stop!” she yelled, but there was a whine in her voice now, and she finally broke and threw her hand back to cover her quickly swelling bottom.

”I don’t think so, little girl,” he said, easily catching her wrist and pinning it to her side. He had been waiting for that hand.

He adjusted her underwear, tugging them up a little so her cheeks spilled out, completely accessible.  He reached over to the table and grabbed the bathbrush, then used the business end to tap her bottom several times.

Her reaction was immediate, as he knew it would be. “No don’t! Don’t I’m sorry! Paul!”

She fought uselessly to free her wrist from his hand as she spoke, but he just kept on tapping the solid wooden implement against her hot bottom.

“I think you even thought you would miss the feeling of this mean old bathbrush, but I bet you don’t feel that way now.” The taps were getting harder as he spoke, now carrying enough weight to make her bottom jiggle with each impact.

”I didn’t! I don’t! I’m sorry I was a brat!” she said, and the first real swat landed as her sentence ended. He didn’t go back to taps after that. He held her wrist, and brought the brush down hard and steady as she yelled and he spoke over her.

”You were a brat. Or at least you were acting like one. Like a brat who needed a hard spanking. One like this.”

She squealed and kicked, occasionally apologizing but mostly just yelling. When her feet got too out of control, he hoisted her up and over his left knee so he could pin her legs between his.

He watched her bottom take on the glossy sheen of a genuinely hard spanking, and listened as her pleas turned to dry sobs. Sometimes tears came, too, and sometimes they didn’t. He didn’t pay much attention either way. They didn’t necessarily signify what she needed or wanted, and he never demanded them. She needed it to hurt more than she would enjoy, and they were getting there fast.

He paused to readjust her again, bending her body almost in half so her bottom was stretched and seemed to blend seamlessly with her thighs in a way one would have sworn was impossible, having see her stand before.

”Almost finished, little girl, and then we will not have any more bratting the rest of today, or tomorrow. Do you understand me?” He brought the brush down hard.

”Yes sir,” she screeched. And he brought it down a second time.

“I’m serious. You end up over my knee again and I’m picking up exactly where we left off.” Two swats, right in a row.

“I won’t! I won’t I won’t.”

”You just make sure you are paying attention. And maybe next time your memory won’t be so short.” With that he finished up, six more hard and satisfying swats to her bruised bottom.

She shrieked through all of them, and kept whimpering even after he set the brush down with a clatter back on the table.  He held her there, rubbing her back and delicately floating his fingertips over her bottom and thighs. When she had calmed down, he guided her up, then back down to sit in his lap, her sore bottom dangling between his knees in a familiar position of comfort.

She threw her arms around him and said pitifully into his chest, “Why?”

His brow furrowed and the briefest moment of insecurity settled over him as he answered, “Because you needed it, sweetheart.”

”I know but why did I need it?! It’s not fun or good!” she wailed, face still pressed up against him.

He relaxed into a small laugh. “That I don’t know, Edy. That I do not know. But I’m glad I get to take care of it when you do.”

She sniffled and curled her body into his a little more. “Well. Me too, I guess.”

He smiled and continued to rub her back, thinking about how fun it was going to be watching her sit for the rest of the day.



Danny glanced across the table at his brother, who was finishing his third or fourth cocktail of the night.  They were at a dinner where their parents, Simon and Elaine, would be receiving an award for a paper they had written the previous year, along with some of their colleagues.  The boys were spending a long weekend with them, both to celebrate the accomplishment and Ben’s recent return to the state.  He and Danny now both lived just a few hours away from their childhood home.

He was trying to catch Ben’s eye, but had a feeling he was being purposefully ignored.  Although Ben was excited for his parents, he had come to the dinner begrudgingly and now seemed to be intent on drinking his way through it.  He had, of course, been charming as he and Danny had shaken hands with a dozen professors and many of their partners, answering the same questions about their lives and jobs over and over again.  Danny hadn’t particularly loved it, either, but they saw how much their parents lit up as they introduced them to person after person.

Ben finally looked in Dan’s direction, and Danny raised an eyebrow and then looked pointedly at the drink in his brother’s hand.  Ben shrugged noncommittally and raised the glass to his lips once again.  Danny nodded thoughtfully to himself.  It was going to be one of those nights.  At any other event, he would have dragged his little brother from the table.  Tonight, he just hoped that Ben would keep himself together until after the meal had ended.

~   ~   ~

They made it through, though not unscathed.  Ben grew clumsier as the night went on, spilling his drink across the table and nearly upending a platter when he leaned back into a passing waiter.  Though most people wouldn’t take notice, their parents had exchanged more than one worried glance.  Danny’s palms were itchy by the time the last speeches had finished and people began to stand.  Still, it wouldn’t have been a noteworthy night if it hadn’t been for the last ten minutes.  Ignoring Danny’s offer to help him step away from the table, Ben had walked away with the table cloth tucked in with the napkin he had clenched in his fist.  There were gasps around the room as he dragged an entire meal’s worth of dishes crashing to the floor.  Silence followed after, and then finally nervous chattering.

They made it home without further incident, where Ben immediately fell into a dreamless sleep and Danny laid awake, thinking about how he planned to handle the situation tomorrow.

~   ~   ~

The next morning, their father was predictably out of the house early.  Neither parent was at all equipped to handle confrontation unless it was a scholarly debate, and Simon knew his oldest was unlikely to let the incidents of last night go.  When Danny entered the kitchen, his mother was waiting for him with a cup of coffee– also predictably.  She hated confrontation as much as her husband; it was one of the reasons Danny had so easily assumed the role of a third parent in their home growing up.  Neither of them could quite bring themselves to challenge him when he began to intervene with their younger son.  It certainly made a difference that Danny assumed the least gratifying parts of helping raise him. And approve or not, they saw how well Ben responded and how close the boys had continued to grow.

Still, in Elaine’s eyes, Ben could do no wrong, and so she was waiting on Danny with a cup of coffee at the breakfast table.  He smiled at her and hugged her shoulders before he sat down.  “Good morning.”

“Hello, darling,” she said with a smile.  “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.  Did you?” he replied as he sat next to her and wrapped his hands around the large warm mug.  “And thank you.”

“Mhmm.  Your father’s gone on a hike, says he’ll be back around lunch.”

“I noticed his car wasn’t in the driveway before I came down.”

They heard movement from the floor above them; Ben must be awake. Elaine stood, going to pour another cup of coffee and humming quietly to herself.  She placed it at the table just as Ben came down the stairs, still rubbing his eyes as he sat.  She put an arm around him and kissed the top of his tousled head.  “Morning,” he said with a yawn.

“Good morning,” Danny said, somehow giving the simple greeting an authoritative quality.

“Daniel,” clucked Elaine disapprovingly, her arm still around her youngest.  “He’s only just woken up.”

“Yeah Daniel,” said Ben groggily, taking a sip of his coffee.

Danny sighed, but didn’t say anything.  Content that things were going to remain calm for the moment, Elaine smiled and asked cheerily, “What would you boys like for breakfast?  I can make French toast, or we have oatmeal? Omelettes?”

Ben’s face seemed to gray at the mention of all the food, and Danny raised his eyebrows at his mother– “See?” his expression said clearly.  She followed his nod at Ben and said hurriedly, “Maybe just some orange juice after your coffee.  That sounds nice.”

Danny rolled his eyes as she went to the refrigerator, and slid two painkillers he’d brought downstairs with him over to his brother.  Ben glanced up guiltily, then reached over to take them.  Before too long, the table was littered with empty mugs and glasses and Danny was tired of waiting.  “Alright,” he said, looking directly at Ben, “you need to get yourself upstairs.  I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

“Awww c’mon,” Ben said, frowning and crossing his arms, “I wasn’t that bad!”

“He really wasn’t, Daniel, your father and I hardly noticed,” added his mother.

“You are both being ridiculous,” Danny said sternly, “Ben, you embarrassed the entire table, including yourself.”

Elaine sighed and put a hand on Ben’s arm as she appealed to Danny, “Benjamin really didn’t mean it, and I’m not upset.”

“Well I am upset, Mother.  And Ben and I are about to go upstairs and talk about why.”

Ben’s shoulders slumped; he recognized the steel in Danny’s voice and knew this was a done deal.  “Alright alright,” he said, pushing back from the table. “Thanks for the coffee and juice, Mom,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile and another side hug.  “Sorry I drank too much last night.”  He looked at Danny as he said this last part and gave a small shrug.

“I’ll be right up,” Danny said approvingly.  He gathered up the dishes while Ben left and his mother rose to pace the kitchen and ring her hands.  “Mom,” Danny said, stopping her pacing head-on with a hand on each of her shoulders, “I’m going to take care of him.  I promise.”

She took a deep, intentional breath, exhaled slowly, and said “I know you will.  I think I’m going to go work in the garden for a bit.”

Danny pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. “Alright, I’ll come out and join you in just a little while.”

They parted, and Elaine went to grab her sturdy work boots and her wide-brimmed hat before heading outside.  Danny pushed the chairs under the table and made his way upstairs.

~   ~   ~

When Danny entered his brother’s room, Ben was sitting on the bed twirling a basketball.  He was still in his pajamas, and looked every bit the teenager he’d been the last time he had called this room home.  He put the ball down on his lap and sat up a little straighter as Danny walked in. Be’s expression was sullen, but Danny didn’t feel any sympathy for him as he thought about how embarrassed he had been last night.  He picked up the ball and set it aside.  “Up,” he said shortly to Ben.

Ben sighed dramatically but stood.  He felt guilty enough to accept a punishment, but it just wasn’t in him to do so gracefully.  Danny didn’t mind.  He knew Ben would be genuinely and deeply sorry minutes from now.  He sat on the bed like he had so many times before, and pulled his brother across his lap.

After a very brief warm up, Danny had Ben’s plaid pants around his knees; he began to lecture as his hand came down on the seat of Ben’s red and black underwear.

“You made several very poor choices last night, young man.  Tell me the biggest one.”

“Ow,” Ben said, “It wasn’t that bad! Ow!”

Danny began to put more force behind his swats as he said, “It was exactly that bad, Benjamin Kendrick.  And it was intentional.  That was a tantrum.  They asked for one night, and you were sulky about it.”

Ow, okay, I’m sorry!” Ben said as Danny kept spanking harder and faster.  In response, Danny paused the spanking and jerked Ben’s underwear down to join his pants.

“You’re lucky I don’t send you to the car to get the hairbrush.  I packed it just in case, and now I’m not sure I don’t need it.”

“Ow, you don’t!” Ben said earnestly, throwing his hand back to cover his quickly heating bottom.  Danny snatched his wrist up easily with his free hand and continued the spanking.  Ben’s bottom flattened with every painful swat.  Danny wasn’t holding back.

“You will apologize to Mom and Dad,” he said firmly.  “And you will behave yourself the rest of this visit.  I was unimpressed with your attitude last night, on top of your behavior.  I don’t appreciate being ignored.”

His palm slammed into the curve of Ben’s sitspots as he spoke now, and Ben squealed and struggled.  Something about this room made him even less stoic than usual– and Ben was never stoic.  Danny paid him no mind as he worked to ensure that his younger brother would feel this spanking well into the afternoon.

~   ~   ~

When he finished, Ben’s eyes were red-rimmed and he couldn’t help but rub his sore bottom as he stood and danced around the room.  Danny watched him for a minute, and then lifted his right arm, waiting for Ben to sit next to him.  Eventually Ben did just that, easing his way down onto the bed and leaning up against Danny for comfort.  Danny offered him kind and soothing words as he rubbed his back.  After several minutes, when they had stopped talking and were sitting quietly, they heard a loud buzz from the dresser at the foot of the bed.

Danny reached over, surprised to see “Oliver” flashing across his phone screen.  He showed Ben, shrugged, and answered.

“Hey Oliver, what’s up?  You’re on speakerphone.  Ben is here.”

“Hi babe,” chimed in Benjamin.

“Hey babe, hey Danny.  I’ve got little bit of a situation.  Do you have a minute?”  Danny looked at Ben, who nodded, and said “Sure.”  He put the phone down face-up on his chest.

Oliver began to speak again.  “So Emma called me last night…”



Low Tolerance


“Oliver. Oliver. Hey. Can you hear me?”

”Emma? Hey, what’s up?” Oliver pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the time. It was close to 11pm. “Everything okay?”

”I don’t know. Is it? I can’t go outside and check.”

Oliver furrowed his brow, trying to make sense out of what his friend was saying. Before he could respond she was talking again.

”Oliver. Oliver! Shhhh.”

”I wasn’t saying anything. Emma, are you… are you high right now?”

She errupted into giggles, but they stopped almost as soon as they started. “Oliver. Can you come over here?”

He rolled his eyes, but said “Yeah, I’ll be there in just a minute. Don’t go anywhere.”

”I’m not! And Oliver! Don’t tell Danny.”

”Just sit tight. I’ll be right there.”

Oliver put his phone in his pocket then stood for a minute, hands on his hips as he thought about what he should do. Danny and Ben were out of town, visiting their parents for a long weekend. He walked to the bedroom and threw together an overnight bag. Might as well see what was happening before he made any decisions.

~   ~   ~

He had to ring the bell three times before she answered, and when she did it was with a conspiratorial air. She grabbed his hand immediately and pulled him inside to the couch. “Oliver,” she said, making intense eye contact, “I wanted to be good at smoking weed so I tried to practice but now I think it was a bad idea.”

Oliver just stared at her for a minute, unsure of how to respond, then said “What did you smoke? Just weed?”

She nodded solemnly at him and replied, “I asked my friend and she gave me a joint just like we had before but this time we weren’t packing so no spankings.”

Oliver blushed, and thought Emma might be wrong about that. There was no point in talking about it now though. Instead he asked, “Are you feeling okay? How much of it did you smoke?”

”I was scared before but now I feel better. And sleepy.”

”And how much did you smoke?”

”All of it. I’m an over-achiever. Can I go to bed now?”

Oliver smiled and shook his head, amused at her. “I think that’s a great idea. Let’s get you ready.”

Emma flopped back against the couch and said “I can just sleep here. I like it here. This is a good couch for sleeping.”

“I don’t think so, miss Emma. Let’s get you upstairs,” Oliver said as he stood.

”Hmph,” she said, pouting, which made Oliver raise an eyebrow at her. “Noooo, don’t look at me like that! No looks.”

”Then quit fussing and get up, little girl. I’m gonna crash here tonight.”

”Duh, you can’t leave me like this. Danny would murder you,” she said, giggling again.

”I think you have plenty to worry about without throwing me in the mix. Are you going to behave yourself and let me put you to bed?”

Emma heaved a long dramatic sigh, but in the end said simply, “I guess.”

”Good choice,” Oliver said as he extended his hand and she took it. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

~   ~   ~

The next morning, Emma came downstairs to find Oliver making eggs in the kitchen. “Hi,” she said sheepishly, climbing up onto one of the stools by the kitchen counter and putting her hands around the glass of orange juice he’d set out for her.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said as he took the pan off the stove. He turned, giving her a smile as he dumped the yellow scrambled eggs on to two plates. “How are you feeling?”

”Pretty good,” she said. “I slept really hard.”

Oliver let out a laugh as he put a plate in front of her and then handed her a fork. “I bet you did. A whole joint by yourself?” He stood across from her as he took a bite.

She blushed and kept her eyes on her plate as she scooted her eggs around. After a minute Oliver said, “You gonna eat those or just rearrange them?”

She took a bite, swallowed, and glanced up. “Are you gonna tell Danny?”

Oliver gave her a scrutinizing look. She kept eating, trying to be good. He finally said, “How do you think Danny would feel about your little experiment?”

She stuck her lip out and stabbed a bite of egg. “It depends on if he knows or not. If he doesn’t know about it, he won’t have any feelings about it.”

When she glanced up again, Oliver was giving her a look that made her gaze drop right back to her plate. She took another bite to avoid having to look up.

”You can talk to Danny about it, Emma. And you can be grateful I don’t spank your butt before he does. I probably should.”

She squirmed in her seat. “Oliveeeer,” she whined. “Stooop.”

He picked up his empty plate and waited for her to take her last bite before grabbing hers, too. “Stop what?” he said, “Telling you what you already know?”

”Hmph. He wouldn’t punish me for the same thing twice.” An idea formed in her brain as she spoke. “Actually…” she said hesitantly, watching Oliver close the dishwasher and turn to her, drying his hands on a towel.

”Yes?” he said.

”Would you?” she said, blushing furiously but keeping her eyes up.

“Would I what?”

”Would you… take care of it?” She didn’t think she had ever blushed harder in her life.

Oliver leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms, contemplating her. “You think I’m gonna be nicer than Danny, huh?”

”No!” she squeaked, even though that was exactly what she had been thinking. “I just hate waiting.”  That part was also true; she wasn’t sure she could carry this weight in her stomach until Danny got home on Monday.

Oliver continued to contemplate her. “You know I won’t be nice either. I don’t think you made an especially wise decision.”

Emma frowned and played with the condensation on her glass of juice. “You and Ben smoke all the time, though.”

Oliver nodded. “We do, pretty regularly. But we also know how much, and how it makes us feel. And you could have called me earlier last night. We could have smoked together if that was what you wanted. I don’t think it was about that, though.”

Emma made a face, scrunching up her nose. “How do you know what it was about?” she said.

”Call it a hunch,” Oliver said, but his tone had changed. He stood up straight and gave her a look that made her insides squirm. “Do you have a favorite corner?”

”Oliver! No one has a favorite corner! Do you have to do that part, too?”

”I sure don’t,” he replied. “I’m doing it because I think you need a little time to think about why you were home alone last night, trying to hide something that you‘re now telling me you’re allowed to do.”

Emma huffed. “Well maybe I am allowed to do it.”

”Would you like your mouth washed out, too?”

Her eyes went round. “No sir,” she said quickly and without thinking. She’d never called Oliver sir before, but she had also never had soap in her mouth and she wanted to keep it that way.

”Good. Go find a corner, please.”

Subdued, Emma climbed down from the stool and went to a corner of the living room which, while not her favorite, was certainly familiar. She put her hands behind her back obediently, hoping that Oliver was wrong about being mean like Danny, but worrying that he wasn’t. He wasn’t wrong about her motivations. She shifted her feet as the guilt she’d been avoiding settled in.

When Oliver called her out a few minutes later, she was in a very different headspace. Though she still hoped that Oliver would be more lenient than her boyfriend, she knew she deserved to be punished. She walked over to where Oliver sat on the corner of the sturdy glass coffee table. She noticed a wooden spoon sitting behind him and groaned. “Is it too late to wait for Danny?” she asked tentatively.

”It is,” Oliver replied. “The spoon was actually his suggestion.”

Emma’s lungs seemed to freeze. “You talked to him?” she said, her voice much higher than normal. Heat rushed up her neck and face.


”Oh,” she said, unable to utter any more syllables after that.

“He pointed out that his hand didn’t seem to do the trick last time. Let’s get this taken care of. Over my lap, please.”

Emma practically dove into position, ready for Oliver to stop looking at her face. He pulled her pajama bottoms down, then adjusted her yellow underwear so they covered her bottom.

He began patting her backside as he spoke. “I can’t believe that after the trouble we were in just a month ago, you are messing around again.” The pats morphed into swats, and those swats were becoming harder by the second.

”You are not in high school any more. Weed is not something you need to become ‘good’ at, as you said last night.”

“I know, I know Oliver!” Emma said, pushing her palms against his thigh and kicking her feet. His hand was so stingy and he spanked so fast that she couldn’t catch her breath. He began to concentrate on her sit spots.

”You knew before you started this whole thing, which is why you waited until Danny was out of town to do it.”

Emma strained against Oliver’s grasp, trying to keep her feet out of his way but barely succeeding. He continued lecturing over her pitiful grunts and heavy breathing.

”You’re officially grounded from smoking, alone or with anyone else.”

”But Oliver—“ she said between wiggles, but he spoke over her.

”Danny’s decision. Which I fully support. If you can’t be responsible with it, you don’t need to do it.”

”But I feel left out,” she whined, and Oliver stopped spanking her. He rested his right hand on her bottom and rubbed her back gently with his left.

”Emma, you don’t have to enjoy everything. It doesn’t make you less fun or more fun. It doesn’t make us not want to hang out with you. Do you understand that?”

”I guess,” she said miserably, and Oliver gave a low hum of disapproval before using both hands to pull her underwear down, exposing her already sore bare bottom.

She moaned and kicked her feet, which earned her a swat to each thigh. “Keep those down, Emma. We aren’t finished. I need you to be a whole lot more sure first.”

Next she felt the cool wood of the spoon and she reached over to grab a fistful of Oliver’s pajama bottoms with her right hand while her left braced her against the floor. He didn’t wait long before he was spanking her with it, sharp and stingy swats all over her backside. She kicked her legs from side to side, but kept them out of the way; she didn’t want her thighs to match her bottom.

She was beginning to regret a lot of things as the spoon fell— asking her friend for weed, for starters. Smoking by herself, for another. And asking Oliver to be in charge of her punishment was currently at the top of her list. He kept Ben under control, for goodness sake! Why had she thought he would be a pushover?

“Let me tell you about my tolerance,” he said as the spoon made contact again and again. “It is very low when it comes to these sorts of antics. You are sweet and fun and funny, and that is all you need to be.”

He laid the swats on hard after he spoke, but only for a moment before he stopped spanking her. Her eyes were wet as she felt him rest his forearms across her back, and she released his pants leg to swipe the back of her hand across her face.

”I am really glad you called me when you got scared last night. And I hope that any time you’re in a situation where you feel scared, you’ll call one of us. Even if it means a sore butt for you.”

She squirmed, both embarrassed and pleased at the praise. He set the spoon down with a clatter on the table and patted her bottom with his hand.

”So, we are clear that you are grounded? And why?”

”Yes, Oliver,” she said meekly. She didn’t care if she never smoked weed again right now. He had been right earlier— she didn’t even enjoy it. And now she wasn’t going to enjoy sitting for the rest of the day.

He pulled her underwear and pajama bottoms up, then had her get up as well. She did so but then immediately sat in his lap, throwing her arms around his neck.

”Shhh, it’s alright,” he said as he rubbed her back. She just needed to be held for a few minutes, and she was happy with how comfortable she felt letting Oliver take care of her. Even if he was, most decidedly, mean. She actually smiled into his shoulder, thinking about commiserating with Ben when he got home.

”Alright, miss Emma, we better go call our boyfriends. I need to let Ben know you survived. He was very worried. You did survive, right?”

Emma giggled and sat up, nodding as she said, “Mostly,” and then, “thank you.”

Oliver smiled and hugged her tightly. “You’re welcome.”