Tag Archives: discipline spanking

Pool Party

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Tonight was perfect.

Jade smiled to herself as she took a sip of her drink, some fruity sweet thing she would never have picked herself, but it fit the mood of the party.  It wasn’t a huge blowout, but close to two dozen of her friends were lounging around, some in the pool, some sitting on the edge, others by the make-shift bar they had set up with liquor bottles and solo cups.  They were all adults, real adults, and getting off for a night was no small task.  She had done the coordinating, but Harper had done the PR– that’s why tonight was a success.  That, and she suspected her friends had the same niggling sense of sudden adulthood that she so desperately wanted to shake, if only for a night.  So babysitters had been called and work notices had been turned in, and somehow she had pulled it off.

“It,” of course, wasn’t just a simple pool party.  They were in the gym of Harrison High School, using the pool facilities, unbeknownst to Jade’s mentor and friend, Lisa Eckridge.  She had been Jade’s protector and unofficial guardian while Jade attended Harrison High, and now they were roommates.  Lisa still looked out for the younger woman, perhaps even more than she had before; certainly she was more hands on.  Jade squirmed as that thought crossed her mind.  Lisa had no idea they were at the school now.  Jade had swiped her keys earlier that day, knowing her teacher friend wouldn’t be looking for them again until Monday morning before work.  It had seemed so brilliant when she’d conceived the plan.  The facilities were free and empty this late at night, and she knew the crowd would leave the place as clean or cleaner than they found it.  Harper had encouraged the idea from the beginning, and even Candace and Connor had been persuaded fairly easily that it was a fool-proof plan.

Not that Lisa would see it that way, but Jade was planning on Lisa not seeing it any which way, please and thank you.  She was supposed to be out at a wine tasting with some of her friends, and Jade had indicated that she might not be home much over the weekend.  If everything went like it was supposed to, they’d be catching up Sunday over dinner, with Lisa none the wiser.

* * *

Even as Jade was settling her troubled mind, Lisa was throwing her car into reverse and leaving the driveway of her home, where she had arrived just a few minutes prior.  It was just after ten and she’d had a nice evening out, disturbed only by a phone call from a friend who worked at a local security firm.  It was the same company that secured the school where she worked, and the friend hadn’t called with good news.  The silent alarm had been triggered, even though no one had broken into the facilities.  Lisa wouldn’t usually be first on the call list, but the young man who had been on duty had pulled up the security cameras and recognized Jade.  He had done Lisa a huge favor by contacting her first, though her gratefulness was clouded by her anger right now.

She paused at the stop sign at the end of her block and took a few deep breaths.  She needed to be calm, at least on the drive over.  Once she was parked, though, all bets were off…

* * *

Candace was by the swinging double doors fixing a drink when they burst open.  She nearly dropped the two liter of coke, and she felt her eyes go round as saucers as Lisa stormed into the room.  The banging of the doors caused most of the attendees to look up, and Candace wasn’t surprised to see more than a few drinks almost slip.  There was near silence as every face turned to see Ms. Eckridge, former teacher to most and terrifying figure to any, standing in the sudden echoey quiet of the room.

“Get. Out,” she said loudly, and the effect was instantaneous.  Suddenly people were gathering towels and hopping out of the pool, some shoving dry pants over wet suits while others merely grabbed for their shoes and began scurrying for the door.  They may have been a group of adults, but every one of them suddenly felt the butterflies of trouble that had been absent for almost a decade.  Lisa didn’t help matters, as she began scolding the individuals trying to make their ways discreetly to the parking lot.

“I see you scurrying, Hunter Ferguson, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself!”

“Don’t you think for a second I won’t be talking to your big brother, Mary Ellen! You, too, Maria!”

“John Michael Morgan, you better put that drink down before you walk out these doors!”

On and on she went, calling almost every party-goer by name as they bashfully made their ways toward the exit.  The entire room had cleared in a matter of minutes, leaving only Jade, Candace, Harper, and Connor to face Lisa’s still fiery wrath.  Before the swinging doors had fully stilled, she had locked her eyes on Jade from across the room and began to advance on her, looking like a lioness who has just cornered her prey.

“This was your idea,” she said, and it wasn’t a question or an accusation, just a fact.  Jade backed up, glancing surreptitiously around the room but finding no place to go.  She held her hands out defensively, uselessly, as she struggled to find words that would stop, or even just delay, the advancing woman, but suddenly she was out of time.  Her face twisted in horror as she felt herself being dragged a few steps over and plunked across Lisa’s suddenly bent knee.

Jade was too shocked to struggle at first as she realized her feet weren’t touching the ground, but the shock didn’t last long.  “Lisa!!!!! Not here!” she squealed, kicking her feet and flailing her arms from her undignified perch.  She actually heard Candace gasp, and she shut her eyes before she could see or hear the others, who had to be watching.  Jade felt the black shorts she wore over her black bikini bottoms being pulled down, despite her desperate kicks.  She didn’t understand how Lisa could be so strong- was this the same thing as mothers lifting cars in a rush of adrenaline?  Was Lisa actually a super hero in disguise?  Maybe she had started taking steroids!

And then Jade’s ridiculous speculation was cut off as the first swat descended on her wet bottom, bare hand on the bare skin of her left cheek below the swimsuit.  Another came shortly after, and another and another, until Jade’s backside finally matched the blush that had graced her cheeks since the moment she’d been hoisted up into this position.  Her body was pulled firmly against the older woman’s, and her hand had finally settled awkwardly on Lisa’s thigh; she could see the woman’s white sneaker upclose from where it rested up on a chair.  No amount of wiggling or yelling phased the teacher as she brought her hand down on the hapless girl’s bottom, and the pool room echoed with the noise of Jade being spanked.

After a solid minute of rapid spanking, Lisa used both hands to pull Jade down. She put her foot on the floor and then plunked the young woman down into the newly vacated chair. Jade let out an involuntary yelp when her throbbing bottom made contact with the rough plastic, then quickly bit her bottom lip as she looked up into Lisa’s fiery eyes. Her former teacher didn’t seem any calmer, as she towered over her, yelling, “Do you have any idea what kind of liability this is for me? This is not some small town school system! I could lose my job if something went wrong tonight! Or you would go to jail! Or both!”

As she paused for breath, a sob echoed behind her. Lisa whipped around, and Jade felt a guilty sense of relief to have the attention off of her. She looked around to see Harper throwing an arm around Candace, who had both hands covering her mouth and tears streaming down her face. Jade grimaced. Her poor friend. The lecture was scaring the shit out of Jade, but Candace skipped right to feeling guilty. She noticed Lisa’s shoulders heave and drop with a deep sigh, and she let out a sigh of her own. She would put money down that Lisa had just snapped out of the yelling portion of the evening.

“Come here,” Lisa said, gesturing to the girls, “yes, you, too, Connor… here… sit.” She waited while the three of them pulled chairs up to sit on either side of Jade, all careful to keep their backsides far away from Lisa. In a moment they were seated, with Jade slouched awkwardly to keep as much of her bottom off the chair as possible. Lisa was having none of it. “Sit. Up.”

When she had them all sitting up straight and focused on her, Lisa began speaking again. No yelling now. Her voice was deceptively calm. “I am very disappointed in the choices you have made tonight. There are consequences you did not consider, consequences that could significantly alter my life, consequences you would have known if you had come to me first with this ludicrous plan.” She focused her attention on each of them in turn, making sure they felt the gravity of her words. “Instead, you were deceitful. You lied to me. You stole from me. And all these decisions that you convinced yourselves were small and inconsequential have landed you in a heap of trouble tonight.”

Now Candace wasn’t the only one with wet eyes, and they all kept their eyes on the floor as they obeyed her clipped command of “Follow me.”

They made a pitiful little line as they followed Lisa into the girl’s locker room; something about it made all four of the young adults blush even harder. They waited along the wall of the main room, across from a long bench and surrounded by dinged up gray lockers. Lisa had moved around the corner to the showers, where they heard her rummaging a moment before returning. Connor let out the groan they all felt when they spotted the long wooden bathbrush in her hand.  He had only recently found himself subject to the disciplinary actions of Ms. Eckridge, and though he consented fully and felt more fulfilled than he ever had since becoming a part of this hodgepodge family, he was no fool. That thing looked wicked.

Jade gnawed on her bottom lip again, while Candace and Harper exchanged worried glances.  Lisa had threatened them both over the years, even planted a swat or two on occasion, but Jesse had always been there to take whatever measures she deemed appropriate.  Both trusted Lisa like they trusted their big sister, but it was a small comfort when they saw the bathbrush. And both were calculating the odds of Jesse paddling them again anyway- Harper shuddered. Best not to think about that yet.

“You four understand why I’m upset?” Lisa asked. Four “yes ma’ams” were mumbled and she barely let them finish before saying “Are you talking to me or the tiles beneath your feet? Because I didn’t catch that.”

“Yes, ma’am!” came four louder replies, and she continued scolding as she paced in front of them, “Now I know how smart the lot of you are. How generally responsible. But this is not the sort of thing that slides by, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” came four solemn voices.

“I expect better, so I will get better. Now, every one of you take about five steps forward and put your hands on that bench. No, Jade, I don’t want to hear it,” she said, cutting off the girl’s protest before it could begin. “You all are responsible, you screwed up together, you can be punished together. Now move it.”

Slowly and awkwardly, they all shuffled forward, no one daring to look any direction but straight ahead. One by one they bent over, spread along the bench, still in their swimsuits.  Jade’s shorts had been kicked off during her trip across Lisa’s knee, and her bottom glowed dusky pink around the edges of her black suit. She squeaked as she suddenly found her bottoms yanked down to her knees. Harper was next to her; bent down and peering at the upside-down world behind her, she had just an instant of warning before her bottoms, too, were jerked down to rest around her thighs. Candace, dressed in a white one piece, moaned softly with a strange mix of embarrassment and gratitude when her round cheeks were exposed by the upward tugging at her suit. It mortified her to have a wedgie, but she wouldn’t have been able to stand being naked. Connor was last, and he found his baggy board shorts dropped just as unceremoniously as his friends’ had been.

Lisa surveyed the four bared backsides, arms crossed over her chest with the bathbrush still clutched in her right hand. They were a pitiful group, and she felt a moment of sympathy and a faint impulse to offer them comfort. A stronger voice told her honesty was kinder in the long run, and so she said sternly and simply, “Do not expect this to be easy,” before walking over to Jade and resting her left hand on the small of her back. She tested the weighty head of the circular brush a few time, and then delivered a heavy thwack onto the girl’s already sore bottom. It was the first of ten, each placed with steady deliberateness, completely unconcerned with the doleful noises Jade made or the small kicks and wiggles she couldn’t help. The only pause came at swat eight, when a naughty hand reached back to cover her swollen bottom, to be met only with a sharp “move it,” and followed by two swats so hard that the other three committed themselves silently to not moving an inch.

Easier said than done, of course.  Lisa wrapped an arm around Harper’s waist next, bracing herself between Harper and Jade, and began again. Thwack. Harper was generally vocal, and always one to move around.  She had rarely been spanked in this position, though, and never with anyone besides Candace.  Being bent over embarassed her into near silence, though she bent her knees nearly to the floor with every swat and barely made it to ten without reaching back. Her bottom felt immediately swollen; she could almost feel the two perfect circles that now graced the round curves of her butt.

Candace was the opposite of her little sister, practically screaming each time the heavy wood made contact with her bare skin. She remained motionless, though, through the strength of her desperate need to atone.

Connor sucked in a deep breath as he felt his former teacher slide between his body and Candace’s, and he wondered briefly if she would go easy on him since this was only his second spanking. The next second he felt the explosive pain of a well-placed swat on his right cheek and he was most certain that she was doing no such thing. He cried out and reached his hand back after just two more, but it was back in front of him and on the bench before Lisa could say anything. He made it to ten, but felt no relief, no movement from the woman paddling him. Instead she said, “Connor, I admire and appreciate your willingness to accept consequences along with your buds. You’re a loyal friend. Maybe next time, though, you should consider how to avoid getting your bare bottomed spanked alongside the girls.  Use that head on your shoulders, little boy.” Before he could even get out a full yes “ma’am,” Lisa had tightened her grip around his stomach and was spanking him again, still with the bathbrush except now with fast, stinging swats that hurt less individually but were somehow even harder to tolerate. He was embarassed to feel himself kicking desperately, managing to keep himself supported only because of his hands on the bench and Lisa’s firm grasp.

It was over quickly, and he felt his shorts being pulled back up a moment later. Lisa’s hand rubbed his back for a moment, and then he felt himself being guided upward and turned around.  He threw his arms around the teacher, feeling two inches tall and not two inches taller than her, and found comfort in the hug she returned.  After a few seconds, though, he was gently pried off and sent with a gentle push back to the wall to stand and wait for her to finish.  He kept his face pointed away, but when she said simply and quietly, “no,” he knew what she meant and turned slowly around. He winced as he saw their bottoms, knowing his looked much the same, and then tried to prepare for what was next.

Lisa was going back up the line, her strong left arm now back around Candace, and she spoke low, like she had for Connor. Candace heard every word clearly, though.  “You know better than this, young lady.  You have been taught to look at all the possible consequences of your actions before you take them. You will not become swept up in this sort of nonsense again.”  Then the brush was flying, and Connor had no idea how Candace managed to stay so still because these swats were definitely harder than what Lisa had given him, and then it was quiet again, almost as quickly as it had begun.

Moments later, Candace’s suit had been fixed and her forehead kissed, and she was standing next to Connor along the wall, tears still streaming down her face.  Lisa slipped between the remaining two girls, and for Harper’s ears only she said, “You are getting too old to play the sidekick, little girl. You know a bad idea when you hear one.  Your enthusiasm for life makes you easy to adore, but you will not let it cloud your judgement like this again or I’ll buy Jessie a bathbrush myself.”  The second syllable of Harper’s “yes, ma’am” screeched up an octave as Lisa began spanking her again, waking up every little pain that had begun to subside. This time Harper kicked and squealed, but it did her little good and moments later she was standing next to Candace, grabbing her hand as they waiting for Jade’s punishment to be over.

The poor girl let out a whimper, and her friends all felt immense sympathy for her position. They had no doubt she would be getting the worst of it, and she had already been spanked earlier. Though they couldn’t hear the lecture Jade was given– if you haven’t learned yet what you can and can’t get away with, you’re gonna learn soon, and if that means you never sit comfortably again, well you can just take a guess at where that lands on my priority list— but they heard the pitiful noises she made the entire time, and their ears burned in sympathy. Soon the sounds of spanking filled the locker room again, and they seemed to go on forever. Connor found himself reaching for Candace’s other hand, and they all watched as their friend and ringleader had her bare bottom paddled until every inch, from the top of her bottom to the top of her thighs, seemed to glow.

Lisa comforted Jade as she had the other three, then walked with her arm around her charge back to the wall. All the fire was gone from her eyes, and the sharp angry angles of her face had softened into exasperated affection.  She reached her free arm out to gently cup Harper’s face as she said, “you two sleeping at my house tonight?” They both nodded gratefully, and Connor managed a small smile as he realized it was assumed he’d crash there.

“Good,” Lisa said, “let’s clean up and go home.”

The Whipping Girl

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Helena sighed as she eyed the smug face of her charge, Princess Phillipa. The young woman was reporting to her for chastisement, having nicked a basketful of treats from the kitchen that morning. The cook would be getting an earful from Helena later, because he had gone straight to the king instead of the governess, which meant she had to dole out what would be deemed a proper punishment- and to the King, that meant a spanking. Helena didn’t have a problem spanking Phillipa; she would like nothing better, in fact. However, it was the law of the land that no one could touch a hair on the young royal’s head, and so every swat landed on the poor rear end of Camilla, a young peasant woman who had been plucked from the village and “honored” with the task of accepting the princess’s punishments with as much grace as she could muster.

This was how they found themselves in the Discipline Room, a small space reserved for just such events. At the front was a raised platform, on which sat a straight-backed wooden chair. Behind the platform, mounted on the wall, was an intimidating array of paddles, canes, and straps. Helena eyed them as she walked down the center of the room, between three short rows of benches. The room could probably seat two dozen people comfortably, though Helena had never seen it close to filled. Today, there were three spectators: the cook, who sat on the right row closest to the door, looking pompous; his assistant, who sat beside him, looking curious; and the King himself, who sat on a small throne against the back left wall.

The Princess followed the governess in, walking obediently with downcast eyes and a wholly fake attitude of compliance. The King might see her as a contrite little girl, but the governess knew her for the conniving young woman she was. All of Helena’s sympathies were with Camilla, who sat nervously on the front row, awaiting punishment she hadn’t earned or asked for, but would nevertheless be recieving. It was her job to endure the spanking just as it was Helena’s to give it, and they would both be fulfilling their duties today.

The governess reached the chair and seated herself, arranging her long black and grey skirts around her legs so they pooled on the stone floor by her feet. Phillipa stood to her left, hands clasped behind her, looking down at the waiting lap, the corner of her mouth slightly turned up in a smirk no one but Helena could see. Helena’s own mouth was a tight line, and she was satisfied to see the princess’s smile fade when they made eye contact. Helena knew how to make the princess behave without laying a finger on her, which was how she’d kept the position longer than any other governess, and most of the staff knew better than go over her head. The cook was new. He would learn, though.

“I am so very disappointed to hear about the theft of pastries from the kitchens, Phillipa. You could have anything you desired with a simple request, but you chose to be naughty and disrupted Cook’s work. For this, you will receive a spanking and a strapping on your bare bottom, witnessed by your father the King.”

“Yes, Governess,” came the docile reply, and Helena patted her lap. Camilla rose from her bench and came forward, mirroring Phillipa’s position on Helena’s right side. Both women wore fine dresses over puffy white pantaloons, though the room would be treated to a view of only one pair. Phillipa took the whipping girl’s newly vacated seat, which would give her a perfect view of the other woman’s soon to be bared bottom. Helena turned, sympathy gone from her face now that she had a task to hone her focus. She lifted Camilla’s skirts, and the woman obediently reached to hold them up as the governess reached for the loosely tied strings that would allow the back of her billowy white underwear to fall open. Camilla’s face became heated with embarrassment, and Helena wasted no time. She pulled the girl across her lap, adjusted her slightly, and then began applying the palm of her hand with quick vigorous swats.

As the girl’s bottom became more heated, her feet began to kick. Helena glanced at the face of the princess, and noticed a look of glee at this development. No one else could see, as all eyes were focused on the girl being spanked, but Helena saw and she didn’t like it. She paused and rubbed the bottom in front of her, leaning down as she did to whisper firmly in Camilla’s ear, “Keep still. Not so much as a twitch.”

She heard a little moan escape the woman, so low no one else would hear, but Helena ignored the pitiful sound and resumed the spanking, not holding anything back as the swats echoed in the small chamber. She was pleased to see Camilla’s feet still, toes pointed obediently toward the floor. She could feel the muscles of the whipping girl’s stomach tighten occasionally, especially when harder swats fell low across her bottom. They were tense and hard against the governess’s sturdy thighs. Helena knew it felt cruel, that in some ways it was cruel to be spanking the woman so hard from the start. She wouldn’t being doing her any favors if she didn’t warm her up properly, though. There was still the strap to come, and the watchful eye of the King.

Mindful of this, Helena bent over, pulling the young woman’s body closer with her left arm and swinging her right arm mightily, listening to the carefully controlled breathing that she knew was Camilla’s only hope of being still. Eventually her arm slowed, then stopped, and she rubbed small circles across the girl’s back and bottom. She took a moment to look at the King, whose impassive face shared little of his thoughts. The cook looked mortified, as did his assistant, both embarrassed to witness the humiliation of an innocent girl. Phillipa looked bored, which satisfied Helena. There was no chance of the selfish princess feeling genuine contrition, so the best the governess could hope for was to not provide a show for the spoiled young woman. She eased Camilla up, then stood herself and arranged the whipping girl so that she was bent over the chair, bottom blazing and bared, framed by the white pantaloons that contrasted sharply with the color of her freshly spanked backside, face turned up toward the wall of implements.

The governess made a show of looking sternly at the princess, then eyeing the display, as if contemplating the appropriate measure to take. In reality, she knew exactly which strap she planned to use. It was a brown and supple piece of leather, heavy and loud, hanging by its polished wooden handle. She saw Camilla looking at the canes, wide-eyed at the quantify of them, ranging from whippy and thin to thick and terrifying. Despite her penchant for trouble, Phillipa hadn’t managed to get the whipping girl caned… yet.

Helena took her favorite strap, and moved to bend down face to face with the waiting and embarrassed woman leaning over the chair. She tipped her chin up slightly with her finger, and said in a low voice that carried only from her mouth to the girl’s ear: “Not a wiggle. Not a peep.” Camilla shut her eyes tight for a second and then opened them again, meeting Helena’s and whispering, “yes ma’am.” The governess walked slowly to the edge of the platform, affording her plenty of room to swing. She announced loudly, as the King would expect, “Twenty two with the leather. One for every year of your life, Princess Phillipa. May we not have to repeat this lesson again.” And with that, she brought the strap sizzling down on the bared bottom in front of her, letting the echo of the sharp “thwack” die off before she bought it down again, and again, until she had reached twenty-two. She was proud to see that Camilla had listened, kept her stoic silence until the end, letting the only evidence of her struggle be her white-knuckled grip on the chair.

The governess turned and looked to the King, who nodded. Phillipa stood and practically pranced to the back of the room, going to stand by her father and laying her head sweetly on his hand where it rested. “Have you learned your lesson?” he asked. “Oh yes, Papa. That was just terrible. I’ll never do it again,” she said, her voice saccharine sweet. “Good girl,” he replied, standing and putting an arm around her, and he walked with her out out the room, without a glance back toward the stage. The cook and his assistant followed awkwardly.

“Good girl,” whispered Helena quietly as she fixed Camilla’s pantaloons and lowered her skirts gently. “Such a very good girl.”

A Weekend Away (Part Two)

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This is part two of a birthday story for a friend!  Part one can be found here.

“Caitlyn,” he said, his voice now very stern, “I want an explanation.”

Corrine had a moment of sympathy for the young woman as she watched her fidget.  Not because Caitlyn was about to be spanked again- that Cory had no problem with and was rather looking forward to watching.  No, she knew that Caitlyn wasn’t sure whether Robert wanted her to turn around or talk into the corner, and so instead of doing either, she froze like a scared rabbit.

Robert did not share Corrine’s sympathies.  After a moment’s hesitation, he walked over and pulled Caitlyn back from the corner, putting an arm around her waist and lifting her up so that her toes barely touched the floor.  Her hands came up abruptly as she tried to steady herself against the walls of her freshly vacated corner, and then there was nothing but the sound of Robert’s hand landing hard and fast on her already bared bottom, disrupted only by Caitlyn breathless cries of “Daddy” and “please” and “I’ll explain!”

Corrine noted with some satisfaction that Shelby was squirming in her corner, but making no move to turn and watch.  She smiled, then watched as Robert returned Caitlyn to her feet, turning her to face him.  Caitlyn pouted at the floor, and her daddy reached over gently to tip her chin up to look at him.  She began to explain, reluctantly.  “Well… Corrine was working.  And we were watching TV.”  She bit her lip pitifully, glancing at Cory as if hoping she would take over the narrative.  Corrine merely raised her eyebrows, and Robert shifted his stance slightly, indicating that he didn’t plan to wait much longer for her to get the words out.  Caitlyn said finally, “We were just playing, Daddy.  With some markers that were in the coffee table.  And we got… a little carried away.”

Robert began to pace with his hand on his chin.  “This is usually the part where I would say ‘I see,’ but I don’t understand at all, little girl.  What do you mean, carried away?”

Unable to stand it any more, Shelby blurted into her corner, “We marked all over each other and Corrine made us wash it off in the kitchen.  Sir.” Robert glanced at Corrine, and an unspoken agreement was made as they shared surprise at the little girl’s outburst. Corrine hoped her look conveyed what she felt- If you don’t, I will!

Seconds later, he was spanking Shelby much as he had spanked his own little girl, scolding as he did so.  “I did not ask for your input, young lady.  I know how much you and Caitlyn care for each other, but that is not an excuse to answer questions I did not ask you.  I love how loyal you are to each other, but I don’t think Corrine tolerates that behavior from you, and neither will I.”  He finished the hand spanking, turning her around. Caitlyn glanced in Shelby’s direction, biting her lip nervously, while Shelby’s eyes flew to Corrine’s, even though she knew her Top would not be pleased, either.

Robert moved to the middle of the room, and pointed in front of him.  “Young ladies, I want you both right here.”  Once more, two naughty girls were forced to shuffle across the living room, their faces almost as red as their bottoms.  “As cute as you both are, I do not like to come home to find that you have been misbehaving.  I see Corrine gave you both nice red bottoms, which is the only reason I am not going to get my hairbrush right now.  But Caitlyn knows that when she misbehaves, she gets a whipping on her bare bottom with Daddy’s belt.  Every time.” Caitlyn let out an audible whine, and Shelby tugged on the edge of her dress, embarrassed to be scolded like naughty school girls.

Robert took a step back, unbuckling his belt and pulling it was a satisfying swish from the loops of his jeans.  “You are both very good girls,” he said as he folded it over, “and that is why you are going to get your bare bottoms spanked today until you are both very wiggly little girls, too.  I know you both know how to make good decisions. You are good friends to each other, and Corrine and I are so happy that you found each other.  But there are appropriate ways to behave, and coloring on each other not one of them.”

“Yes, Daddy,” and “yes, sir,” came two little voices, much more subdued than they had been earlier when they had said the same things.  In a matter of minutes, they were both bent over the coffee table, panties around their ankles and hands on the flat wooden surface. Corrine still sat on the arm of the couch, her expression stern as she watched.  The first crack of the belt rang loudly as he began spanking Caitlyn, and more followed as he settled into a steady rhythm.  “Ow, ow, owie, ow” came her soft voice, and the corner of Corrine’s mouth tugged upward when she saw Shelby reach for her friend’s hand.  Before too long, Robert had shifted his focus to the other bare pink bottom, and it was Shelby squeezing Caitlyn’s hand for whatever comfort she could get as the leather met her already sore backside again and again.

He paused and paced behind them, noting two pairs of feet shifting their weight back and forth.  “I am very proud of how you handle yourselves usually.  I love to see how you take care of each other, and to hear you laugh when you are being silly together.  But you know better than to draw all over each other.  That is unacceptable.  And that is why I have to use my belt to make sure that this does not happen again.  We are going to have a nice weekend, with no more marker fights.”

He began to swing his belt again, spanking Caitlyn as he scolded.  “You know better, don’t you little girl?”  “Yes, Daddy, yes Daddy, yes Daddy!” she wailed in response, wiggling her bottom as much as she could without taking her feet off the ground.  When he was satisfied, he turned his attention to Shelby, asking her also as he spanked “Do you know better than this, little girl?”  “Yes sir!” she answered promptly, sucking in her breath sharply and shutting her eyes tightly.  When he was finished, he reached down and tugged her underwear up, then pulled her into a hug.  “I am very glad that you are friends with my little girl.  I take that very seriously.  She is so important to me, and I am glad she has you in her life.” Shelby nodded into his chest, then made her way to the couch to sit by the arm where Corrine was perched.  She snuggled against her Top’s legs, taking comfort in the hands that immediately began stroking her hair.

Robert also walked around the coffee table, setting his belt down and squatting to look Caitlyn in the face; she had been waiting patiently for her hug, but he wasn’t quite finished with her yet.  “I love you very much, little girl.  And I wish we were finished with this spanking.  But Daddy has rules that he expects you to follow.” Caitlyn’s eyes were wide, full of confusion and apprehension.  “How do I expect you to stand in the corner, young lady?”

Comprehension and dread fell on Caitlyn’s face.  “Oooohhh, Daddy no!” Robert stood and walked back around the table, his arms encircling her waist again as he said “I asked you a question.”  He didn’t wait for her to respond before he began to bring his hand down on her sore bottom, harder than he had before and just as fast.  “Daddy ow, Daddy ow!  Bare bottomed, bare bottomed!” she finally squeaked out.  He continued spanking her for another minute, while Shelby buried her face in Corrine’s lap to avoid watching.

When he was finished, he pulled her up into a hug, rubbing her back and talking gently to her, re-assuring her that he was still the proudest Daddy in the world, and more than happy to correct her when she needed it.  When she had calmed down, he allowed her to fix her underwear and skirt before glancing pointedly at Corrine. Caitlyn flushed and walked over to the couch, hands clasped in front of her as she said “I’m sorry for misbehaving while Daddy was away.” Corrine opened her arms and pulled Caitlyn into a hug, one arm around each girl for a moment before letting Caitlyn return to her Daddy’s arms.

A moment later, the quiet was interrupted by a loud rumble, one which came from Corrine’s stomach and made Shelby jump. Corrine laughed easily and said, “Anyone else hungry?  We forgot to make our own dinner plans while Daddy was away,” she said, winking at Caitlyn.  As if on cue, there was a knock at the door.  “Good thing I ordered a pizza during time-out earlier.”

Robert smiled and moved to greet the delivery person while Shelby and Caitlyn both looked at Corrine, mortified.

“What if they had gotten here early?!??”

Party Foul

Standard

One of my favorite brats wrote the beginning of this story. She created the characters, gave them a little life, and then sent them to me with the simple demand: “Finish it, Gracie!” And because I am a bit of a sucker, I did. It’s a little heavier than my normal story lines, but I think it turned out rather well. I hope you enjoy!

“But why does she get to go?!” Harper whined.

“Because she’s older than you and more responsible” was Jessie’s stern reply.

Harper knew better than to argue with Jessie when she used her authoritative tone, so she stormed off to her room. She also knew the real reason she wasn’t allowed to go to the party with Candace was because she’d gotten a little too drunk at the last party they’d attended. “This is stupid. I’m old enough to go, just because I made one tiny mistake doesn’t mean I should be kept from parties all my life,” she grumbled as she slammed the door and sat angrily on her bed. Jessie wasn’t her mom! Granted, her mom wasn’t much of a mom either, which is why she came to live with Jessie and Candace- but this whole “my house, my rules” thing was getting old. Although… Harper had some dirt on Candace, so she knew she wouldn’t be ratted out if… and Jessie would be gone for a while to babysit, so… Harper grinned as a plan quickly formed. “I’m going.”

~~~

Jessie closed her eyes and began to count to 100. She was not going to put up with Harper’s attitude, and she just about to adjust it for her when Harper came from the room. Jessie paused at 72, opening her eyes slowly. Harper apologized for slamming the door, then told her that she understood why she wasn’t allowed to go to the party. Jessie tried to hide the surprise she felt, and she was more than a little curious about the abupt mood change, but she was also proud. She wouldn’t go to the party after I said she couldn’t. She knows what would happen to her if she tried, she thought to herself as she smiled at the young woman standing beside her.

~~~

“I’ll be back by one; if you need me, just call me. Keep the doors locked and behave yourself,” Jessie said with a hint of warning in her voice.

“Yeah yeah, alright. See you later,” Harper mumbled. She pretended to be transfixed by the TV as she gave a half-hearted hug goodbye. She waited until she heard Jessie pull out of the driveway before springing into action. Now there was only Candace to worry about.

~~~

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Candace eyed the girl who was now dressed to the nines with an alarmed look.

“To the party obviously.” Harper said with as much sarcasm as she could muster, which wasn’t a lot with as excited as she was.

“I thought you couldn’t go…”

“Correction, I’m not supposed to go, but I can, in fact, go. And you aren’t going to say anything because if you do, I’ll just let Jessie know about the time that you…”

“Okay fine!” Candace growled. Harper had been holding this one incident over her head for a month now. If she had just come clean to Jessie before…but now she was lying which would get her in worse trouble, and that’s something Candace was well aware of. But technically, she was already lying by not confessing in the first place– or at least, that’s how Jessie would see it. She flinched at just the thought of being in that much trouble. “But if I go down, I’ll make sure you go down harder!” she said. Truth be told, Jessie always went easier on Harper. Why does she have to be so damn spoiled?! Candace sighed. There was nothing she could do about it now, and maybe since she was doing Harper such a big favor, she could convince her to finally let it go… maybe.

~~~

Harper took a seat at the bar as she ordered her drink a little breathlessly. She had been dancing and having fun all night. Candace begrudgingly left an hour ago, after Harper told her it was the only way she would let that “one incident” go forever. She didn’t want Candace cramping her style with “We should really go home now,” and “I think you’ve had enough to drink,” and “Jessie’s gonna murder you.” She could be such a buzzkill. She had another hour left to go before there was even a chance of Jessie getting off work, and it only took her ten minutes to get home. Just then, a cute boy walked up.

“Wanna drink?”

“Mmm… nah. I have one, thanks.”

“Mine is better, trust me,” he said with a wink.

Harper shrugged and took the shot he offered. She could almost hear Jessie’s warning about not taking drinks from strangers, but she was going to fit in here if it killed her. Jessie was just paranoid anyway. These weren’t the kids from her neighborhood. They were all rich and well-dressed. There was nothing to worry about here.

“Wanna dance?”

Again she shrugged, but this time with a smile as he took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

As she danced, she became more and more aware of how dizzy she felt. She’d had a lot to drink, but this was a different kind of dizzy.

“What time is it? Maybe I should get home…” Harper glanced at her wrist only to become more frustrated. She couldn’t read her own damn watch.

“Don’t worry about it, babe… just have some fun.”

~~~

“Hey girl… where’s Harp?”

Jessie looked at her watch again. Eleven fifteen; her night owl wouldn’t be asleep right now. The look on Candace’s face was enough to send her into a panic.

“She um…well she hasn’t come back…from the….party…yet?”

Jessie walked to the couch in three bounds and took the girl by the ear. “Let’s go.”

~~~

The music pulsing too loudly in her ears was the last thing Harper remembered, then she was vaguely aware of strong arms wrapping around her and carrying her away.

“You l-let me down! I’m going home…ri-now!” she slurred. She was starting to panic, then she heard Jessie’s voice. “Calm down honey, we’re going home.”

Jessie?! Harper registered a lot of things at once as she glanced over the woman’s shoulder. The party was over, and from the looks of it, it ended abruptly. The boy she was talking to earlier was being put in handcuffs. Blue and red lights filled the room. Harper groaned as she looked up, expecting to see anger on Jessie’s face. She felt a pang of guilt when all she saw was leftover worry and now, relief. And then, black, as she faded back out of consciousness.

~~~

Jessie sighed and she tightened her grip around the girl sleeping in her arms. She felt a lot of emotions as she carried her to the car. Right now, she was mostly relieved that she had gotten there in time. She also felt angry, incredibly angry. If Harper’s condition hadn’t had her so worried, she’d have likely gotten physical with the little mutant who slipped something in the girl’s drink. And with a sigh, she realized that both of her girls had disappointed her. She was especially surprised at Candace, who she was confident knew better than to sneak Harper to a party, much less leave her there. It was a bit out of character for Candace, too. She had played the big sister role to Harper for almost a year, even before Harp had officially moved in, and had even tried to take the blame for things that Harper had done. She wasn’t sure what was happening between the girls, but for Candace to outright disobey her?! Something was going on. As she buckled a snoring Harper into the car, she looked over where the other girl sat behind the passenger seat, sunk down with her eyes fixed out the window, looking guilty. Before Jessie had even gotten her own seat belt on and the car started, Candace had slipped over to the middle seat and had her arms around their little rebel.  Jessie sighed again. It was going to be a long weekend.

~~~

Back at the house, Jessie and Candace walked a barely conscious Harper to her bed, pulling off her jeans, boots, and socks before tucking her in.  Candace stood around awkwardly as Jessie set two ibuprofen and a large glass of water on the bedside table.  When she did look at the girl it was to raise her eyebrows, and asked “What is it, Candace?”

Candace realized she wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted to ask; all that came out was “Are you… am I…”

“Are you what?  In trouble?  Yes, Candace.  You are in a lot of trouble.  Am I going to spank you?  I don’t know.  Yes.  I think.  Not tonight.  I am not sure what to think about any of this right now.  One of the people we care about most in the world was in a lot of danger tonight, and she put herself there- on my watch.  And with my little sister’s help.”

Tears jumped into Candace’s eyes at these words, and a single hard sob rose from her chest.  There was an edge of sympathy in Jessie’s face, but it wasn’t much.  She looked tired, sad, scared, disappointed, and a decade older than she had that afternoon.  Still, she forced herself to soften her expression as she walked over and put an arm around Candace, hugging her shoulders as she guided her across the hall to bed.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, sweetheart.  And we will figure this all out.  I’m not happy, but I love you just as much now as I did yesterday and every day.  Okay?” She turned, putting a crooked finger under Candace’s chin and gently pushing her head up so they were looking eye to eye.  “Okay?”

Tears gently falling over the edges of her lower lashes, Candace nodded.  Jessie pulled her into a full hug, kissing her forehead and squeezing her tight.  “I am just glad you’re okay, squirt.  That both of you are.  The paramedic said Harper is going to wake up with a fuzzy memory and a bad hangover, but she is otherwise fine.  You’re fine.  We’re all here, in our house, sleeping under the same roof.  Right?”  She felt a nod against her chest and hugged her sister a little tighter.  “We’ll talk tomorrow.  Do your best to get some sleep.  Love you.”

And with another kiss to Candace’s forehead, she left for her own room.

~~~

Jessie woke up to the sun shining across her face, almost spitefully cheery as it streamed through the window.  She was oddly rested; she didn’t think she’d sleep a wink, but once she laid down, the adrenaline that had flooded her body left just as quickly, and she was out to the world.  Unfortunately, sleep hadn’t made her problems disappear.  The clock read 9:32, and the house was still quiet. She stretched, then climbed out of bed, walking in her pajamas down the hall to check on the girls.

First she peeked into Harper’s room; she was still sleeping.  The ibuprofen and the water were both gone, so she must have woken up at some point in the night.  Jessie closed her door and walked across the hall to Candace’s room, tapping the door lightly before pushing it open.  The poor thing was still laying in bed, but her eyes were open and red-rimmed.  Jessie’s heart melted at the sight; she clearly hadn’t slept much at all.  “Oh, honey,” she said, sitting on the bed beside her and holding her close.  Another dry sob shook the girl’s body, but she was all out of tears.  “She’s okay, honey, she’s okay.”

“But I let it happen,” Candace said shakily.  “I knew she wasn’t allowed to go to the party, but I didn’t stop her, and I didn’t tell you so you would stop her, and then I left her there!  I left her, and she could have gotten hurt, she did get hurt, but it could have been so much worse, because of me.”

“No, honey.  This is not on you.  Do you have some responsibility here?  Yes, you do.  And we are going to talk about it.  And Harper has a lot to answer for.  But the majority of the blame here is on the person who drugged her without her consent.  There were a lot of bad decisions made last night, but he is the one here at the most fault.”  She was getting angry just thinking about him, but Candace snapped her out of that train of thought.

“You can’t spank her!!!” she said frantically, as if this possibility had just occurred to her, pulling out of Jessie’s arms to look at her face.  “She’s been through enough, Jessie!  You just can’t, she was so sick last night and she looked so fragile…”

Jessie firmly pulled Candace back over to lean against her while she spoke.  “Candace… Harper is in a lot of trouble.  And yes, I am going to spank her.” She tightened her grip when she felt Candace start to pull away again.  “It is not an easy thing to do, but there are two reasons.  One, because she earned a spanking.  She did not one, but several things that she knew would get that reaction from me.  Things that I never worried she would do until she did them.  Which brings me to the second, and the more important, reason.  She can never make decisions that poor again.  I’m sure this will not be the last bit of trouble Harper ever gets into, but she is never going to jeopardize her safety like this again.  I’m going to see to it that her bottom hurts just thinking about this level of trouble.”

Candace visibly winced at this, but she knew her sister’s mind was on Harper, not on her.  Unfortunately for Candace, that only lasted a second.  “About that responsibility, little girl,” she said.  “First off, why did you let her go to the party?”  Candace seemed to shrink a little as she quietly answered, “Well I didn’t…. like… let her go.”

“Candace,” Jessie said sharply.

Candace sighed heavily, then began to speak.  “Harper sort of blackmailed me.  She said… so… okay, I got away with something like, forever ago.  And Harper knew about it, and she aaaaalllways reminded me about it, and I thought this was my chance to make her let it go…” Her voice had a distinct whine by the end.

“And what was this something that Harper was holding over your head, young lady?”

Candace shrank further.  “You remember when I was grounded?”

“Two weeks ago?”

“No,” Candace flushed, “like, a while ago.  Six or seven months ago, for getting home so late when I had work super early the next day.”

“Oh yeah.  Yes.  I remember.”

“One of the nights I already had plans with Jade and I went out anyway,” she said guiltily, “after we had said goodnight.”

“How did you get back in without me hearing you?”

“The window in the den.”

“And Harper is the one who opened it for you,” Jessie finished grimly.  “I see.”

“I’m sorry!  I shouldn’t have done it, and I did, and I felt bad about it but I knew you’d be mad…” Candace’s voice faded away as Jessie released her hold on the girl and stood.

“Mad doesn’t being to cover it, young lady,” Jessie said, then she seemed to interrupt herself as she asked sharply, “Did Jade know you were grounded?”  Candace bit her lip, but she wasn’t about to tell even a white lie right now, so she slowly nodded her head.

“I see,” Jessie said as she put her hands on her hips and went into full lecture mode. “You do not sneak out of this house.  Under any circumstances.  I cannot believe that I am having to say that out loud to you.  You know better.  And look at the example you set for Harper!  When we agreed to let her come live here, we talked about that.  I know that you two have been friends for a long time, but you are every bit as close as sisters now.  And I know you have only been a little sister for a long time, but you are a big sister now, too, and you need to act like it.  She looks up to you.  You respects your choices.  And she counts on you to show her how to behave.  So besides letting me down by sneaking around, you also showed little miss Harper that she could get away with it.”

As Jessie paused for a breath, Candace squeaked “I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!”

“Harper made the choice to go out last night, but you have a responsibility now to her just like you do to me.  You are going to be a good example.  You are going to be the well-behaved, responsible young woman I helped raise.  Are we clear on that?”

“Yes ma’am,” Candace said miserably.

Jessie pulled herself up to her full height, lifting her right arm from her hip and pointing toward the bedroom door.  “Get the brush.”

Candace slid out of the bed, practically running for the door, hoping (in vain) to avoid being swatted as she walked by her big sister.  She rubbed her bottom as she padded down the hall to Jessie’s room to retrieve the big oak hairbrush that stayed in the top draw of her dresser.  She looked at it with disdain before picking it up and heading back down the hall.

~~~

Harper watched Candace’s feet pass by her door from her position laying on the floor of her room, spying out into the hallway.  She’d woken up about fifteen minutes ago with a slight headache and the urgent need to pee.  She had placed her ear to the door, but the house sounded quiet, so she’d risked stepping out of her room.  As she had tiptoed toward the bathroom, she’d heard voices coming from across the hall.  Taking this as a sign that they were letting her sleep, Harper did her business quickly and quietly, though she was racking her brain the entire time, trying to remember how she had gotten home last night.  Her thoughts had been interrupted as she reached her door, when she’d heard Jessie’s voice getting louder.  She had darted into her room, shutting the door silently and laying down on the floor by the door so she could listen.

She hadn’t quite been able to really hear what she was saying, but Jessie sounded mad.  Harper had cringed as she made out a word here and there… “respect…” and “behave” and “responsibility.”  This was not sounding good.  As she had listened, she tried to remember anything she could from last night.  She kept being distracted, though.  When things had gotten quiet, she hadn’t been able to hear anything but her own heartbeat. Then she’d seen Candace’s socked feet, and now she saw them walking back again.

Her hungover brain was slow to piece things together.  Several seconds later, things finally clicked and she sucked in her breath as she thought “Oh fuck fuck fuck, she was going to get the–”

SMACK

The distinct sound of wood on bare skin jumped across the house, and Harper shut her eyes and tried to concentrate on the feeling of the cool wood against her cheek, and how many seconds each breath took blowing out, and just anything, anything but the awful sound of her best friend being spanked just a few feet away.

Whereas the voices had been muffled by the walls and door, the smacks of the hairbrush seemed to have no issue making themselves heard loud and clear.  And while Harper could keep her mind occupied for a few seconds at a time, she stopped being able to do even that when she started hearing the pitiful noises Candace was making.  It started with a few squeaks here and there, and then the occasional “ow” and “owie owie.”  The spanking didn’t seem to slow down even a little; if anything, it sounded like Jessie was picking up speed.  Soon the distressing sounds coming from Candace were as constant as the never-ending spanking.  Without even realizing it, Harper had put the heel of her hand in her mouth, stifling her own noises as she occasionally clamped down hard enough to leave marks.

Still, the spanking continued, and Candace was honest-to-god wailing in there.  Harper shut her eyes and took her hand from her mouth, using it to cover the ear that wasn’t against the hardwood floor.  Nothing could keep her from hearing it all, though.  Like Candace, Harper was trapped until Jessie was good and ready for her to be released.  And of course, eventually, the spanking did stop.  Harper knew better, though.  She jumped up and scrambled back into her bed in the momentary quiet, pulling the blankets up around her and straining, despite herself, to hear what she could.

She knew how this went.  She had been spanked by Jessie before.  Even if she could just barely make out her soft tones, she knew this was the last bit of whatever lecture she had started earlier.  Jessie always sounded deceptively nice at this point, as if her soothing voice could distract a person from the fresh hell she was seconds away from unleashing.

Suddenly there was a loud “nononono no no no noooooooo!” from her friend, and the spanking drew to a close as a minute of spanks fell audibly harder than the others, and easily twice as fast, with Candace practically screaming through the whole thing.  Harper couldn’t help but picture her friend’s flailing legs; they’d been spanked enough times together that Harper knew exactly what she looked like right now.  She would have her hands balled up in the bedspread, if Jessie wasn’t holding them still.  Her pants and underwear would be long gone, kicked off almost immediately.  And her ass… her poor ass…  Harper gulped when it ended, actually gulped, as if she were a cartoon character.  A solid minute.  She had watched the seconds tick by on the analog clock by her bed.  That was a long time.  A really long time.

~~~

In Candace’s room, the sisters held each other, one whispering sweet words while the other cried tears she didn’t know she had left to cry.  Oh this hurts.  This is going to hurt for so long, the younger girl thought as she clung to Jessie.  She knew she had deserved every swat, and she had tried so hard to be good for it, but Jessie hadn’t spanked her that hard in a long time.  No, she revised her thoughts immediately, she has never spanked me that hard before.  When she calmed down, Jessie kissed her forehead before disentangling and standing.  Candace rolled over slowly, laying on her stomach and clutching her pillow, and looked up at Jessie from the bed.

“I need to go talk with Harper now, honey.  You okay?”

Candace grimaced, flooded with sympathy for what her friend was about to experience, but then nodded.  Jessie reached down to run her fingers lightly through the girl’s hair before she walked out the door, scooping up the brush from its place on the floor as she left.  Candace barely waited for the door to close all the way before reaching back to gently touch her swollen backside.  A soft “oh” escaped her lips.  She could barely explore the damage.  It hurt too much.  She pulled her hand back up to her face, absentmindedly wiping away a few stray tears.  Nothing about this was fun, but she had to admit that she felt alright for the first time since they’d found Harper last night.  Jessie had kept saying they were okay, and now, for some reason, Candace couldn’t help but believe her.

She heard the door across the hall open, and she began to think about how horrible it was going to be to hear Harper in trouble.  It was a needless worry.  Candace fell almost immediately into a deep sleep, the kind that only takes a person when they’re so tired that their body refuses to do anything else.  She didn’t hear a thing.

~~~

Jessie stood in the hallway for several minutes, clutching the brush and wishing she didn’t have to do what she was about to do.  Usually it didn’t bother her too much when she had to dole out a punishment; they were always well-deserved.  But this little girl could have been seriously hurt last night, and the thought of causing her more pain… No, a steely voice echoed through her mind, this little girl lied to my face, manipulated her Candace, snuck out of the house, drank way too much, and was so unaware of her surroundings and so careless of her safety that she had been roofied at that stupid party that she wasn’t supposed to attend in the first place!

Well that did the trick.  Her resolve strengthened, she twisted the knob and walked into Harper’s room.

~~~

Even though she knew it had to be coming, Harper jumped when her door opened.  She tried not to immediately look to see if the brush was in Jessie’s hand, but she couldn’t help herself.  Of course, there it was, that dreaded stupid stupid wooden brush.  She moved her eyes up to Jessie’s face, but that was worse.  Way worse.  Back to the brush.  No, her face.  Fuck, just look at your own hands, she thought, immediately following her own advice.

She felt the bed shift, and risked a glance up.  Jessie had set the brush down, and now was sitting close to her on the edge of the bed.  She reached out to brush a strand of hair out of Harper’s face and behind her ear.  She did that all the time, and usually it drove Harper crazy, but at the moment she was just grateful for the gentle touch.  The older woman rested her hand on Harper’s leg as she asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Good.  Well not like, good good.  But okay.  Thanks.  For the water.  And the Advil.  I barely have a headache.  I feel tired, though.  And I felt foggy when I woke up.  But better now.” She answered as quickly and truthfully as she could.  She was a little surprised Jessie had even asked; usually she wasn’t very sympathetic to the girls’ hangovers.  She was even more surprised when the gentle questions kept coming.  “What do you remember from last night.”

Harper blushed and looked down.  “Well I remember… going… to the party…” she said haltingly.  She was so used to trying to wiggle her way out of trouble that she wasn’t sure how to just tell the entire truth, but after the spanking Candace had just received, Harper had no doubt that Jessie knew exactly what had happened last night, and even she knew better than to poke an angry bear.  She was as honest as she could be.  “Candace didn’t want me to, but… I kinda made her take me.”

Jessie nodded, and Candace gathered from her expression that she must know about the blackmail.

“Okay, so I went, and everything was okay, and then Candace went home, so I was dancing– she tried to get me to go with her, but I wouldn’t– and I was still… drinking…”  Now she was actually having trouble remembering the details.  She had been pretty drunk, but there was… a boy?  Yes, a boy.  “This guy brought me a drink, and then I was dancing with him, and… and then…”  Her brow furrowed as she struggled to remember.  She had been really drunk, but usually she passed out before she blacked out.

Jessie’s gentle hand on her leg brought her back to the present.  “Honey, that guy you were dancing with?  He put something in your drink.  That’s why you’re having trouble remembering.  It’s why you were so foggy when you woke up today.”

Harper felt her face contort as she flipped through several emotions, from shock to disbelief, and through several others until she landed on anger.  Yes, that one felt right.  “Are you telling me that douchebag ‘music producer’ or whatever he really is roofied me last night?” she asked incredulously.

Jessie nodded slowly, not entirely surprised by this reaction.  “You aren’t the first girl he’s done this to.  He got away with it at a party a few weeks ago.  Someone last night recognized him and called the police.  They were already putting him in handcuffs when I showed up, and you were all but knocked out.  But you never left the party with him, thank god.”

“Oh he’s frickin’ lucky they took him to jail.  That little–”

“Harper” Jessie interrupted her.  “You can be mad later.  You have a right to be mad.  That guy is scum, and I bet we both wish about the same kind of future on him.  You and I have more than enough to talk about that doesn’t involve him, though.  But first, I need to know if you’re okay.  This is a big scary thing to learn.  How are you feeling about it?”

For a brief moment, Harper considered playing to Jessie’s sympathy.  If she burst into tears, she knew she’d get out of whatever Jessie was planning.  She sighed.  The truth was, though, she had seen a lot in her life, especially before moving in with Candace and Jessie.  If something like this had happened to Candace, she’d be in therapy for months.  But Harper… Harper knew things like this happened.  Bad people were out there.  And she had just taken the drink he offered, with hardly a second thought…

Her head fell forward to thunk lightly on her knees, which were pulled up against her body, as the weight of what she had done fell hard.  “Oh that was so dumb… I took the drink… I can’t believe… oh my god, I can’t believe I took it.”

Jessie was nodding as she began to speak, even though Harper couldn’t see it.  “Yes, you did.  You took a drink from a stranger.  Probably because you had had too much to drink.  Way too much.  At a party you weren’t supposed to be at.  Because I told you not to go.”

Harper wondered if she could just keep her face buried forever.  That seemed like a great plan.  Jessie said her name again, though, and she forced herself to look up into a pair of very stern eyes.  “I am very disappointed in the choices you made last night.  That man is scum, and in a perfect world, you wouldn’t have to worry about people like him.  But we don’t live in that perfect world, and you have been taught better than your behavior showed last night.  We have had this talk on more than one occasion.  It is almost unbelievable that we are having it again.”

The girl nodded, but she didn’t say anything.  What could she say?  She had broken Jessie’s trust.  She’d snuck out of the house, lied to cover her own ass, and bullied Candace to get to that stupid party, and for what?  So she could get sloppy with a bunch of people she barely knew and then have to deal with this?

“Was it worth it?” Jessie asked, as if she could read Harper’s thoughts.  “No,” she replied, “not at all.”

Jessie picked up the brush again as she shifted her position on the bed, putting her feet down on the floor.  “This sort of thing will never happen again, Harper.  If I have to spank you every day for a month of Sundays to make sure of that, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“But you don’t–”

“Hush.  This is my time to talk and your time to listen.  You are about to get your little self across my lap, and I am going to spank your backside until you can’t even look at a bottle of liquor without remembering this hairbrush.”  Harper groaned, but Jessie wasn’t finished.  “You will get another spanking at the end of the week.  And another one a week after that.”

Harper sputtered, eventually getting out a quick “You can’t–” but she was immediately cut off again.

“I can.  I am.  And if you so much as walk out of the house to check the mail during the next two weeks, you’ll get spanked then, too.  Right on the front porch, if that’s where I catch you.  I am finished with you disobeying me, Harper.  We are family now.  I have a responsibility to make sure that you are safe and happy.  And all you have to do is not make that job more difficult.”

Harper stared at her mutely.  Three spankings?  Three?  And restriction?  And she knew restriction was what Jessie was saying.  She wasn’t just going to be grounded to the house.  She was about to lose her TV, her laptop, her phone…

She didn’t have a lot of time to mourn the loss of her material things.  She felt Jessie’s strong grip on her arm, and a second later she was moved bodily across the bed and across Jessie’s lap.  She wasn’t wearing pants, and her underwear were taken down almost before she found herself settled.  “Hey!” she yelped indignantly, but she didn’t have long to be upset before she became concerned with an entirely new problem.

SMACK

Except this time it was her on the receiving end of that wicked brush, and even though earlier she’d briefly thought that listening to someone getting a spanking was actually worse, she knew for certain at this moment that she had been wrong.  This was worse.  This.  This was so much worse.

She kicked her feet, slamming them into her pillow until it fell off the bed, and beat her fists into the mattress.  Usually she struggled so much that Jessie had to physically hold her on her lap, but she was trying really hard not to throw herself on the floor.  It was a losing battle, though.  Sometimes Jessie made her way down to a bare bottom, but she never started there, and she never started with the brush.  It was usually saved for the second half, or even just the end, just there to drive the point home.  This was an entirely new form of torture.

Despite her best efforts, Harper was soon throwing her body sideways and throwing her hands back, anything to stop or even slow down the onslaught.  This wasn’t the first time Jessie had spanked the wiggly girl, though.  In no time at all, she’d flung her own leg over Harper’s, effectively pinning them.  She pulled the girl’s body snugly against her own, using her free hand to also trap Harper’s interfering hands to the small of her back.

“Please!” Harper yelled, and she hated the sound of her own voice.  She never begged during a spanking.  She would yell sometimes, and even cry sometimes, but she never asked Jessie to stop.  It looked like a lot of things that never happened before were happening today, though.

Harper was barely conscious of the yells coming from her own mouth after another minute.  No longer was she letting out yelps and pleases; now it was a constant string of unintelligible words and phrases.  Jessie got the gist.  It didn’t slow her down, though.

It wasn’t until the first sob escaped from Harper’s chest that she even began to consider slowing down.  She was serious about this not being a repeat offense.  She could see dark undertones coming up on the girl’s skin, but she kept the swats coming.  She hadn’t given either girl a warm-up for a reason.  She wanted them to feel these spankings for more than just a few hours, and for more just tonight.  As she thought about this, she increased the strength behind her swats, ignoring the way Harper’s cries went up an octave.

Finally she did stop, at least for the moment.  She let Harper’s hands go, and the girl immediately covered her swollen backside with them as she let out a moan.  “Absolutely not,” she said, and was glad to see the naughty hands almost jump to get back in front of Harper’s body.  She rubbed the young woman’s back for a moment, waiting for her to calm down enough to listen.  Eventually, she felt like it was time to speak.

“I’m not sure how else to say this, little girl, so I guess I’ll say it the same way just one more time and I hope it really sticks.  You are part of a family now.  An unconventional, mismatched family, but a family.  I am the head of this family, and there are a lot of things that go along with that.  I make sure there is food on the table.  I make sure there’s a roof over your head.  I do my best to make sure that you are happy.  And when you are ready to move out, I will help you with that, too.  But until then, there are a lot things that go along with not being the head of this family, too.  You have to listen to me.  You have to trust that I know what I’m talking about.  And if you disagree with any of my decisions, you either make me see it your way or you come to terms with that particular decision.  You understand me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Harper said, and that was not something that came easily to her like it did Candace.  She hadn’t been raised saying ma’am or sir, but Jessie insisted on it, at least when the girls were in trouble.  “And whether I am here or not, looking right over your shoulder or in a whole ‘nother country, you will watch out for yourself.  You will make good choices about your well-being.  Is that crystal clear?”

“Yes ma’am,” came the reply, followed immediately by an echo of Candace’s cries earlier as she felt Jessie tip her forward slightly, and she knew what was coming.  She heard fingers snap above her, and she groaned and began to cry fresh tears as she offered her hand back.  She knew what that snap meant, and soon her wrist was secured to her side while her other arm wrapped back around Jessie’s body.  She sensed the brush being raised up and yelled out a desperate “Please don’t please don’t please don’t!” and then she was getting the rest of her spanking, the hard and fast swats of the wooden hairbrush falling on her already bruised and aching backside.  She found herself saying “please don’t” over and over again, until those eventually blurred into wild and wordless shrieking.

She was facing away from the clock, but by the time the spanking was finished, she was positive it had been every bit of the same minute Candace had gotten.  Maybe more.  She lay there whimpering for a long time after it was over, just feeling her bottom throb and trying to control her crying.  Her backside felt at least twice its normal size.  The thought of moving sent fresh tears down her cheeks, but eventually she was able to sit up, hissing at any contact made with her poor rear end.  She flung herself face-down on her bed, in much the same position Candace had ended up in.  Jessie laid down beside her, rubbing her back and stroking her hair and filling her with words of comfort until she, like her new sister, drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

What Not to Say (in front of Danny)

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Danny put both hands on the table and leaned in toward them. “Unless you’re looking for a pair of sore backsides before supper, I suggest you quiet down and let me get this finished. I’m not going to ask again.” He turned back towards the office/spare bedroom as Emma’s eyes rounded and she felt her face grow warm. Danny had never given any hints about that part of their relationship in front of anyone, no matter what was going on in their home! And in front of his brother! What would he think if he knew… she risked a quick glance sideways at her new companion. Ben seemed to be as flustered as her was, his cheeks a bright pink and his eyes fixed blankly on the table. Danny had threatened both of them. Did Danny still…?

No way. Emma knew that Dan and his younger brother were really close, and she’d heard her boyfriend get on to him a few times over the telephone about school work and other little things, but nothing to imply that he still… And besides, Ben was twenty-two… of course, she was twenty-two it didn’t stopped Danny from busting her tail whenever he felt like it.

Ben looked up, catching her eye, and they both looked quickly away. As the silence grew deafening, Ben grabbed a pen and scrawled on the margin of Emma’s magazine. “Does Danny…?” She nodded slowly, took the pen, and wrote “you?” Ben nodded solemnly, took back the pen and smiled a little as he wrote “he’s got hands like canoe oars!” Emma barely suppressed her giggle, which grew as Ben began to draw a portrait of his brother, complete with paddled hands and an ass’s head. Soon they were cutting up again. Ben had come to visit them in California for the first time since Dan and Emma had moved in together; he was in his last year of school in Atlanta, where he was getting degree in graphic design. Ben and Emma had hit it off immediately, teasing each other and laughing as if they were long lost siblings themselves.

Danny’s threat was forgotten as Ben began to tickle Emma and she screeched and began hurling anything within her grasp toward her attacker. It was forgotten, that is, until they heard the scrape of the office chair. They were immediately quiet, too little too late, of course, as Dan appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the framed, surveying their guilty faces as they sneaked glances his way. “Come here.”

Slowly they both scooted away from the table and shuffled his direction, stopping in front of him with their eyes on their shoes and their hands behind their backs. “Ben,” and his brother’s head snapped up, “take this,” and Dan handed over his debit card, “and Emma,” now her eyes on him, too, “take these,” and he handed her the car keys, “and go get a pizza.” He fought to keep his face firm as he watched their slow smiles start and their bodies relax. “And if you’re not gone the better part of an hour, you’ll both sleep on your stomachs tonight!” he said with mock severity. They didn’t need to be asked twice, making it out the door in record time as Dan turned back towards the desk and his unfinished stack of papers to grade.

***

That evening found them in the local pub, sitting round a small table close the a little stage where local musicians played the usual classic rock covers. After two pitchers of beer between them, Ben and Emma where shouting requests and singing along, Danny laughing as he sipped his second mugful, having been designated the driver before hand. Danny laughing, that is, until Emma noticed an ex-classmate of hers and decided to point her out to Ben, who immediately proceeded to give his critiques on everything from the girl’s dangerously high heels to the beefy boyfriend she had on her arm. Drunk and giggly, Ben began a running commentary on the patrons of the bar, Emma egging him on as he got louder and louder and ignored every warning signal Danny sent their way. Ben finally snapped something about a woman sitting at the table to the right, loud enough that they all turned his direction as he slurred his catty remarks about the lady’s blouse being see-through. Danny was up in a heartbeat, apologizing to the woman and her bigger-than-average husband, glaring at his brother and girlfriend and their sloppy unapologetic grins and berating himself for not dragging them out five minutes earlier.

“It wasn’t a big deal, Danny, and besides, it was a slutty shirt,” Emma said as they trekked down the street towards the car a few blocks away. Danny took a deep breath kept walking, ready for the pair of them to be sober so he could make clear exactly what he thought of their impromptu “What Not to Wear” mock-up. Ben was stumbling behind Emma, his face a bit pale as the last couple drinks entered his system. Emma began to mumble again, and Danny turned sharply, her nearly running into him, and brought his face very close to hers. “Emma Grace, I am three seconds from–”

And that’s when Ben stumbled over and released the contents of his stomach on the sidewalk at their feet.

***

Emma’s eyes opened abruptly and she was awake, although she remained very still until she realized that the other side of the bed was cold; Danny must be awake and moving. She relaxed a moment, physically at least. It really wasn’t a good sign. She tended to be an early riser, while Dan was a big fan of sleeping in on Saturdays… her watch said it was just now eight, and they hadn’t even left the bar until almost 3… and if Danny was already up… oh boy. This was bad. This was very bad.

She saw a big glass of orange juice and a pair of Advil sitting on the night stand beside her, but she told herself that they didn’t look appealing and stubbornly closed her eyes again. Thirty minutes later she was still trying desperately to fall back asleep when Danny came back in the bedroom. “I know you’re awake,” he said from somewhere above her, “and I don’t know why that juice is untouched.” She remained perfectly still. “Ben should be awake by the time you’re out of the shower. I’ll see you in the living room.” As he shut the door, she groaned inwardly and began to sit up…***

In the guest bedroom, Ben woke with a mild headache and an unexplained sense of doom. Unexplained until he took in his surroundings, the corner desk and the flowery curtains: Danny’s guest room. “Shit,” he mumbled, turning to find the glass of juice he knew would be sitting on the night stand. He vaguely remembered downing several glasses of water and a couple Advil before being put to bed. Ohhh, a little voice inside his head whispered, last night wasn’t just a regular night of drinking with Danny putting you to bed… big brother was mad. Just how mad, Ben couldn’t remember– he could barely remember getting home last night– but he had an uneasy feeling that maybe he had something to do with it.

***

Emma walked timidly towards the couch where Ben sat, looking miserable in his loose plaid pajama pants, eyes puffy from the drinking and hair still mussed. Dan wasn’t in the room, but she guessed he wouldn’t be long in coming. Sure enough, he walked in carrying a chair from the kitchen a few seconds later and planted himself across from the 22 year-olds.

“Any reason I shouldn’t wear the two of you out?”

Protests, blaming their actions on the alcohol, died in Emma’s throat. She’s learned early on in their relationship Danny’s feelings about that old excuse. “If you’re old enough to drink, you’re old enough to know your limits.” She shook her head miserably alongside Ben.

“Right then,” and his damned decisive nod, “Emma, you’re up first.” She walked to his side, put her hands to her waist band and looked at him pleadingly as she glanced at his brother on the couch. He’d never so much as threatened a spanking in front of anyone else, and now she was about to be on the receiving end with an audience. Her stomach tightened and a lump rose in her throats as he simply raised his eyebrows at her and gave a small unsympathetic shrug of his shoulders. With shaking hands she dropped her pajama bottoms. As she was trying to work up the nerve to take down her white panties, Danny took hold of wrist and pulled her across his lap. She barely had time for to be thankful before the first smack landed solidly on her backside. She managed a stoic thirty seconds of his rapid spanks before the squirming began; another minute and her hand shot back of its own accord. Danny snatched it up quickly and pinned it to the small of her back without breaking his rhythm. He paused after another moment, observing the pink blush escaping the outer edges of her underwear. He grabbed the top, pulling them down to the top of her thighs, ignoring Emma’s mumbled “Oh, nonononono…” and the tensing of her body as his hand came down, leaving a flicker of white before descending again. Emma’s legs began to kick as her tongue tripped over apologies, not exactly asking him to stop (she knew he wouldn’t until he was good and ready) but offering everything she could by way of penance. Finally the spanking slowed as he began to talk. “Why am I unhappy with you, Emma?”

“Because I was rude and- and mean” came her choked reply.

“And who is responsible for your behavior?” he asked, still spanking her very dark pink bottom.

“I am!”

“Even when you’re drinking?”

“Yes siiiir!” she cried, feeling ashamed. Daniel briefly increased the force behind his swats, making Emma shriek, before slowing and finally stopping.

Emma cried quietly as she lay limply across his knees. He rubbed her back for a moment, listening to her ragged breath and letting his simple question rest. He eased her to her feet, kissing her hand tenderly and giving her a gentle nudge back toward the couch where Ben sat, looking paler now than he had last night. He had a blank look on his face, eyes on the ceiling, evidence of his failed attempt to tune out the spanking of his semi-sister-in-law. Danny called his name sharply, and Ben moved quickly to his brother’s side, not nearly as hesitant about dropping his shorts as Emma had been. Of course, he’d been on the receiving end of Dan’s discipline more times than he cared to remember, including several times right in front of (and often alongside) his friends and playmates growing up. Before the spanking even started Ben grabbed the lower rung of the kitchen chair, gripping it tightly, knowing he would struggle to keep them there. And so the spanking began, Danny’s rapid slaps turning his little brother’s backside a bright pink before whisking down his briefs and turning the skin a deeper shade of red. As with Emma, he stopped after a minute and rested his arms on Ben’s back for a moment, except he didn’t move his brother’s shorts back up. Not yet. “Benjamin, I hope you’re learning more at school than how to judge your peers. I know- or I hope, anyway- that you were raised to be a much better person than you showed yourself to be last night.” Ben mumbled his yessir, tears forming in his eyes. “Emma, go get the hairbrush.” At that Ben began to squirm fiercely, making protests until Danny tightened his grip around the young man’s waist and delivered half a dozen stinging slaps to his upper thighs. Emma hadn’t moved, except to open her mouth in disbelief. “Listen here, young lady. You had no problem pushing Ben last night to your amusement. You contributed to his behavior. You may contribute to his punishment.”

With a look of horror Emma rose and fetched the round oak hairbrush from its place in their bedroom. She forced herself to bring it back, motivated with the fear that she might make things worse for Ben if she didn’t do as she was told. Danny tapped it lightly on Ben’s red rear end before bringing it forcefully down twelve slow and solid times, Ben bucking and Emma wincing with each loud smack. Finally Danny allowed Ben up and back on the couch, running a hand through his brother’s hair affectionately before standing up and carrying the chair back to the kitchen, returning a moment later and offering a hand each to the two on the couch. “Back to bed, kids. You still only got about 5 hours of sleep.” They allowed themselves to be tugged up, and Danny pulled Benjamin right into a hug; he held his little brother tightly for a minute before sending him back toward the guest room and turning his attention to Emma. As much as Emma hated spankings and as much as she tried to talk herself into a good sulk afterward toward her brute of a boyfriend, she never could. Instead she became clingy, wanting to mold herself to Danny for hours after the punishment. He kissed her head, then walked back to the bedroom, where she spooned against him and squeezed his fingers in her own until they both fell asleep.

Statistically Speaking

Standard

Emma loathed Thursdays. Her friends complained about Mondays– they hated the early morning return to campus after a weekend of late night parties and sleepy afternoons, visits home and food that didn’t come out of a box. Emma found the return to school refreshing, though. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the break. She just liked the structure, the professors, and, most of all, her classes. As a senior Philosophy major, her courses were difficult but full of discussion, always offering something new.

While other students panicked at their increased workloads, Emma thrived. Thursdays, though– Thursdays were slow. After a three hour lecture in the morning, Emma was done for the day. For most of her college career, she’d held a full time job in addition to her classes. When she’d started dating Danny two years ago, he’d had some rather strong opinions about that.  He had rather strong opinions about lots of things, she thought, remembering their first semester together.

*     *     *

Dr. Daniel Strauss became an adjunct professor in the spring of Emma’s sophomore year. Although she disliked math, her degree required a statistics course, so she’d ended up in his packed 101 session. Already in advanced classes, Emma scoffed at the idea of taking an intro class; having a teacher only a few years older than herself did nothing to improve her opinion. From her seat in the second row, she took in his laid back stance and youthful appearance. He seemed easy going, making small talk with those who had arrived a few minutes early. He was only twenty-seven, having graduated early with his bachelor’s degree and heading straight to back to school for his doctorate.  It was his first year actually leading a class, but he seemed comfortable in the role. While other girls batted their eyes at his sun-bleached hair and lanky frame, swooning over him, Emma slumped in her seat and prepared for an hour of doodling in her notebook.

While she remained attentive in her other classes, she skipped the math course as often as she went, blowing off the lectures and zoning out when she did decide to show up. Her first test came as quite a shock; she spent the first few minutes staring blankly at the pages, face flushing as she realized how little of the material she knew. Affecting a cheerful demeanor, she quickly answered as best she could, turning in her test first and whizzing out of the classroom with what she hoped was the air of a woman with things are her mind much more important than a failed math test.

Her attendance afterward became much more steady, but the material increased in difficulty and she was forever playing catch-up thanks to her weeks of negligence. After bombing the second exam, Emma could barely contain her panic as she bustled out of the room, smile firmly plastered under wet brown eyes. As he returned the tests, Dr. Strauss made the same sort of speech as he had after the first– praising the high marks, berating those he knew hadn’t studied, and offering repeatedly to help anyone who needed it. His office hours were posted on his door, his email address was listed on the school’s web site and his phone number was on the syllabus. Emma, however, was much better at avoidance than she was at math, and managed to keep her eyes firmly locked on her suddenly interesting text book as he repeated his offer at the end of class.  It was her own fault for skipping in the first place, she berated herself harshly, so it was up to her to dig her way back out.

After dropping a stack of papers at the end of class one Wednesday afternoon, Emma found herself alone with the professor after a shortened lecture.

“Emma,” came his voice from the desk in corner of the room. Startled, she almost dropped her papers again as she looked up. That he was even aware of her name came as a shock. “Emma,” he repeated, “why are you failing this class?”

Put off by his bluntness, she stuttered an excuse, feeling her face flush and rushing to get to the door.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” he voice came again, ignoring her attempt at escape. “Why are you failing this class? I’ve talked to your other professors. You never miss their classes. Your records are outstanding. So, please, tell me why.”

This time it came out as more of a command than a question, causing Emma to make the mistake of looking up into his clear dark eyes, and this time she did drop her papers again, eyes swimming as the panic she’d held in check since that first test day boiled over and threatened to spill down her cheeks. “I can’t… I just…” she stumbled, struggling to suppress her emotions, growing even more upset as waves of guilt washed over her. Closing her eyes, she took several deep breaths, shoving everything back inside and composing herself. “I’m sorry,” and now she spoke clearly, fully in control once again. “I’ll do better.”

“What’s your schedule after this class, Emma?” Dr. Strauss asked as she again walked resolutely towards the door.

“I have another class after this Mondays and Wednesdays; on Fridays I have a two hour break before work,” she replied, too intent on leaving to wonder why he asked.

“Excellent,” came his voice as she maneuvered past the last few desks, speaking just as calmly as if she’d still been looking at him. “We can study an hour on Friday afternoons. Bring your notes.”

“Yes, sir,” she squeaked as she finally made it through the doorway. What just happened? she wondered as she found her car, opened the door and tossed her books into the passenger seat. Can he even require me to stay after?  And where had that sir come from?  Her face flushed to think about that silly affirmative.  Required or not, though… embarrassed or not… she knew she would be there.

“Where are your notes?” Dr. Strauss asked as he walked towards her desk two days later. Emma had sat awkwardly, pretending to organize her things as the rest of the students filed out. Before she could hide the notebook she carried, he was over her shoulder. “Hmm. These look like song lyrics, a rather lopsided heart, and the loveliest E I’ve ever seen. However, none of it looks like statistics.” Emma felt her face flush as she fumbled with her pen. “I don’t usually take notes.” He glanced sharply over to her before maneuvering a desk catty-corner and taking a seat. “Well, it’s time to start. As long as we’re meeting, I retain the right to see your notes whenever I ask. There will be consequences for empty pages. Is that clear?”

“Yessir,” she mumbled, flipping to a blank page and opening her text book. He nodded once, re-assumed his friendlier attitude, and began the lesson.

Things went well for the next several weeks, until Emma was nearly even with the rest of the class. She was plenty smart enough for the material; it had just been a matter of intimidation with a subject she’d given up on too early and her ego getting in the way.  Now that she was caught up and comfortable, the lessons went quickly. She even found herself zoning out again, scribbling in the margins of her binder. She’d become less intimidated by Dr. Strauss as well; he made her feel at ease, never reminding her of her past absences.  They still studied together, but it wsa fun and silly, and most days didn’t feel like work.  She forgot he was still paying attention– close attention.

Friday afternoon came again. She turned her book to the day’s notes, carefully taken for their study session.  They’d become so routine, and he hadn’t asked to see them in weeks, but she still made sure she had something written down for the days they did meet.  He didn’t move from his desk when the last student left. “Show me your notes for this week.” She hesitated, since he usually came to sit near her, then brought him the day’s pages of numbers and formulas. “This is today’s lesson. Show me Wednesday’s.” Emma felt a flush rising from her neck to her face as she flipped the pages back, revealing a few scattered notes amid a sea of curly-cued letters and doodles. She suddenly felt very conscious of how awkward she felt, standing in front of his desk in the front of the recently filled classroom.  “And Monday’s?” Her hands became sweaty as she flipped to pages filled with simple butterflies surrounding illegible scribbles supposedly copied from the board. Dr. Strauss moved his eyes from the paper to her downcast face for only a moment. “Right then,” again with his one resolute nod, “we’ll continue today’s lesson in my office. Follow me.”

He stood, his chair chair scraping the ground, and walked toward the door.  Emma could hardly breath, but she couldn’t help but follow.

*     *     *

Being an adjunct professor doesn’t afford one many favors, and Dr. Strauss had been stuck in a basement room with one other adjunct who didn’t have classes on Fridays. He shot Emma a quick glance, a small request for permission before shutting the door behind them. He gestured for her to have a seat, although he chose to lean against the desk in front of her instead of blockading himself behind it. “If I recall correctly,” and his tone betrayed no trace of doubt, “I promised that there would be consequences, should you choose to fall behind again. Is that correct?”

“Yessir,” she whispered. Again, that nod, and he squatted in front of her, balancing on the balls of his feet so they were eye level, obligating her to meet his gaze. “As I thought. Well, you did not, it appears, remain attentive, and now it is time for a reminder. You are going to stand in that corner, right there, for the next fifteen minutes, and think about what a waste of time and money this class is if you choose not to pay attention and complete the work properly. Then I am going to spank you, and then we are going to discuss this week’s lessons.”

He maintained eye contact for several moments as she worked to find a response. Then he took her hand and pulled her gently from the seat, walking her to the corner by the door. Mutely she allowed herself to be guided. She found her nose in the wall, and the professor’s voice her ear, “The door is unlocked.” He squeezed her hand gently and went to his desk. She stood frozen, heart beating in her ears and palms clammy. “The door is unlocked.” Well… he had offered her the option of leaving. So she would leave, she decided. Only she didn’t. She spent most of the fifteen minutes silently willing her feet to step toward the door, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.  He had taken so much time with her, put in so much effort, and part of her wanted to be punished for not living up to his expectations or her own standards.  His carefully chose words as he scolded her echoed… “choose to fall behind…” “choose not to pay attention…”  Closing her eyes, and mumbling a silent prayer to anyone listening, she made another choice.

All too soon she was called from her corner.  Dr. Strauss took the seat she had used earlier, pulling her between his knees and looking up at her face. “Have you been spanked before?” he asked, and she nodded. “Recently?” and this time she shook her head, no, no not recently, she hadn’t been spanked since she was six years old, but he didn’t ask about that, he just continued, “Alright. I’m going to take down your jeans, and then I’m going to begin.”

Within a minute, he was doing just that- his hand descending over and over again on her blue panties, her squirming and gasping for air after the first volley. She tried her hardest to remain quiet, but little squeals escaped as his hand found its mark. Her hands spasmed in front of her, sometimes grabbing the chair and then touching the floor, finally settling in a vice grip around the professor’s leg. As her backside’s new red blush began to escape the line of her underwear, her eyes suddenly began to fill and hot tears to run down her cheeks.  A moment later, Dr. Strauss scooped her up and held her head to his chest, stroking her hair and mumbling soothing nonsense words until she calmed down. She clung to him like Velcro, a reaction he hadn’t anticipated but didn’t mind at all.

*    *    *

He didn’t check her notes again the rest of the semester. He was confident that there was no need, and he was right, of course. With his help, she had passed the freshman level class at which she had turned up her nose originally; Daniel couldn’t quite hide his pleasure when her curly brown head popped into his office the first Friday of the next semester. With no more math to study, they went out for coffee… and then they started going to dinner.  And slowly their relationship evolved– and she didn’t hear his opinions on being a work-a-holic until much, much later.