Tag Archives: hairbrush spanking

Summer Flu

Standard

Emma scowled at Danny, who stood at the bottom of the stairs. He had his arms crossed, and he was unimpressed with her scowl. He had just ordered her back into bed, but she had no intention of going. She’d been stuck there for five miserable days with the flu, and she was so tired of being tired. So instead of turning around, she looked defiantly down the stairs, hands on her hips and scowl firmly in place… right up until Danny took a step toward her. She turned back around and stomped into the bedroom, slamming the door and furious with herself. What’s he going to do anyway? she grumbled.

Her scowl grew as she thought about this. Worst he would have done was shoo her back in here, considering he thought she was too weak to even walk down the stairs. Thoughts like these chased themselves around her head, and in a matter of minutes, she had worked herself up to getting out of bed again. This time she didn’t try to sneak down the stairs. She walked out of their room and announced over the railing that overlooked their open kitchen and living room, “I am coming downstairs.” As she took the few steps toward the staircase, she grabbed the railing to steady herself. Maybe she was a little bit more woozy than she thought. She looked up a second later, and back into the piercing blue eyes of Daniel Strauss. He had his arms crossed again, and had apparently stepped out of their home office at her announcement just in time to see her stumble at the top of the stairs.

“Emma,” he ground out, but she refused to turn around. Still, she couldn’t quite stand her ground, and so instead she sat down on the top stair. Danny’s eyebrows shot up, and she tried to ignore the way her heart jumped in her chest at his expression. When he started walking up the stairs, she scrambled to stand, but jumping up made her dizzy again and she had to stop and clutch the banister. Danny hurried up the last few steps, wrapping his arms around her and walking them back to the bedroom. “I’m fine!” Emma said, but even she didn’t believe it. She was surprised at how much energy that had taken.

She was far more surprised a second later to find herself horizontal, stomach flat against her boyfriend’s muscled thighs and torso resting on the bed. She shrieked and squinched her face up, preparing herself for the first swat, but it didn’t come. Her whole body stilled, and in the silence she could hear her own breathing, which was much heavier than it should have been for so little activity. She was keenly aware of Danny’s right arm around around her waist, holding her across his lap. His left hand tugged up her large t-shirt, then pulled down her underwear in two swift jerks, one on each side. His hand rested on her bared bottom as he began to speak.

“So you are so stir crazy that you would rather take a spanking than stay in bed. Is that what this is, Emma Grace?” he said quietly, his voice low and stern. She groaned softly and felt her face and neck go hot with embarrassment. Maybe she wasn’t exactly thinking just that, but maybe… maybe she had wanted to provoke some sort of response. Maybe. “Well I have bad news for you, kid. Because I am going to spank you,” he continued, gently running his hand up and down across the cool skin of her bottom, “but it is not going to be now. And it is not going to be tomorrow. You are going to stay in this bed, just like the doctor said, until she says it’s okay to be up.” A growl crept into his voice and Emma found herself whimpering through his lecture. “And the very second she says you are allowed out of bed, I am going to put you across my lap, just like this,” and he patted her bottom, “and I am going to spank your pretty backside until it glows.”

Emma buried her face into the bedspread, her ears burning with embarrassment. She felt her eyes well up with tears and she felt terrible for having provoked him at all, after all he’d done to care of her, and this was how— “Eeep!”

A single sharp swat had landed on her backside, and Danny said “None of that, little girl. I am not mad at you. I understand you are bored and frustrated. But bored and frustrated aren’t excuses.” He patted her bottom, and she jumped even though he was being gentle again. “And believe me when I say that I am looking forward to you being well as much as you are. Maybe more, now.”

And with that he slid her off his lap, situating her back on his thigh but seated, underwear still bunched around her legs and her arms around his neck, a magnificent pout gracing her features. “I don’t want a spanking,” she mumbled, “I just don’t want to be sick any more.”

“Well you are still sick and you are going to be spanked. All you have left to decide is how bad it’s going to be. Keep up this pouting and I’ll take off my belt when the time comes. Let tomorrow be another day like today, and I’ll get the hairbrush. Let me catch you wobbling near those stairs again,” and his eyes glittered dangerously, “and I will spank you every night for a week. Are we clear on that?”

“Yes, sir,” Emma mumbled into his shirt. She couldn’t help that her mouth was still turned into a frown, though she dared not express any further rebelliousness. She didn’t argue when he tucked her back in a few minutes later. It was still early in the evening, but she was drifting to sleep in a matter of minutes.

Danny adjusted the covers around his sleeping girlfriend, then gathered up the small bin full of tissues and replaced the bag, straightening up the room for his patient. She had been so pitiful just three days before, and now she was struggling in a different sort of way. No longer occupied with the worst of the symptoms, she was now mostly just tired and bored. And naughty, Danny thought as he washed his hands for what must have been the thousandth time since she’d gotten sick. He was trying to be patient, but she’d just used up the last of it with that stunt. He suspected Emma might have found herself searching for his limits out of sheer desperation to rid herself of the doldrums. He crossed his arms again as he gazed down at her. Not wise, little girl, he thought to himself. Not wise at all.

~   ~   ~

When Emma woke again, it was almost dark. She noticed immediately that her area was clean again, as it always seemed to be after she dozed. She felt a twinge of guilt at how stubborn she’d been all day, but then she remembered that she was now in trouble, and a nice pout pushed the guilt away and she glared at the plate of saltines that had appeared on her nightstand. A glance at her phone told her it was almost 9pm. She reached for her iPad and began to pull up Netflix, but she hadn’t even gotten to her profile before tossing it gently away again. Emma was tired of watching things. She was tired of reading things. She was really truly and un-ironically tired of sleeping.

The door slowly opened and Danny walked in, carrying a glass of ginger ale. “Good morning,” he said as he placed the ginger ale on the nightstand beside the bed. “It’s not good or morning,” Emma replied grouchily. Danny’s eyebrows raised slowly and she pushed herself back a little, as if the headboard might actually be a secret door. Her boyfriend’s face didn’t look half as pleasant as his greeting had been. He stepped toward her and put his hands flat on the mattress, one on either side of her frame, so that his torso was parallel to hers and their bodies were very close. She pulled the covers up over her nose, but couldn’t seemed to break her wide eyes away from Danny’s. He was calm and unblinking, gazing thoughtfully at her for a moment before leaning down to put his lips against her ear and say quietly, “That’s one.”

“No!” Emma found herself exclaiming as she pulled the covers down from her face, narrowing avoiding hitting his rising body. He replied as he casually walked around to his side of the bed, “Oh yes. That’s one, and if you keep arguing, it will be two. Now sit all the way up.” His voice became more commanding as he let out a string of orders. “Start sipping your ginger ale, and start working on those crackers. I want all of it gone in the next hour, before we go to bed.” He held up a silencing hand before she could protest, “Yes, bed. I don’t think you’ll have any problems sleeping, but if you do, you can spend your time thinking about how you are going to keep from getting to three in the next 24 hours.”

Emma’s mouth dropped open, then shut with a click.  She crossed her arms and fought to make her face passive.  A minute later she reached over and grabbed a cracker and shoved it in her mouth.  She couldn’t see the small smile on Danny’s lips as she fought to chew the dry cracker, but it was there.  He left her alone as he picked up his kindle and glasses; he was quickly absorbed but managed to keep an eye on the clock.  He was happy to see that half of the ginger ale was gone and so were most of the crackers after half an hour, and finished before her time was up.  He quietly put his book down and put his arm around her shoulders.  She had been reading her own book, an actual paperback in her hands.  She leaned into him and he kissed her temple.  “Time for bed, honey.”  She sighed deeply but didn’t argue.  She put her book away and got up just long enough to complete her night time routine.  She was again startled by how quickly she tired, even though her tasks had been simple.

Emma really really did not want to be spanked with a wooden spoon, or the brand new hairbrush Danny had recently acquired.  And even though she didn’t want to go back to sleep, the thought of Danny holding her was now very appealing.  She decided she was all finished being mad at him as she pushed herself up against him in the bed.  He turned obliging, molding his body to hers and kissing the back of her head.  They talked a little, mostly mindless and sweet chatter, and soon they were both fast asleep.

~   ~   ~

The next morning, Emma woke before the sun had risen.  Danny was still asleep, having rolled over in the night to his side of the bed.  She brushed her fingers through his hair gently, and then glanced at the bedroom door, biting her bottom lip.
She really wanted to go downstairs.

She slipped one leg out from under the covers and planted it on the floor, then stilled.  Now that she was contemplating the move, she was very aware of her boyfriend’s body heat in the bed and his rhythmic breathing, indications that he was sleeping soundly.  She wanted it to stay that way, though she kept telling herself that he wouldn’t mind anyway.  She just wanted to eat, really, and that was a good thing!  She hadn’t been hungry in so long, and it meant she was getting better, for sure.

As her other foot made its way to the floor and she lay awkwardly twisted, she felt another twinge of guilt.  Maybe she should wake him up.

Even as she thought it, though, she let her torso slide off the bed, snakelike in her movements until she was planted.  Then she stood, and took a step toward the door.  An overwhelming sense of freedom shot through her and she walked a little faster, until she was at the top of the stairs.  Remembering Danny’s look at her wobbling yesterday, Emma decided to sit, carefully, on the top step, and scoot her way to the bottom.  To hush the voice that told her this was a bad idea, she kept making small compromises, hoping to sooth the warning bells.  She got down the stairs safely.  He would be happy with her for that.  Definitely happy.

She walked over to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and began to rummage for breakfast. The doctor had warned her that her appetite would return much faster than her ability to eat without being sick. At the moment she didn’t care, and she poured herself a large glass of orange juice and put a bagel in the toaster. She grabbed cream cheese, and container of berries, and some yogurt. She almost grabbed the granola, but her arms were full, so she turned to put everything down on the table…

…and found herself looking directly into a pair of very unhappy blue eyes. Emma almost dropped the food in her arms, but caught herself. “Hi,” she said meekly.

“Three,” Danny replied, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep. He wore plaid white and grey pajama pants, the drawstring dangling loosely. His chest and feet were bare and his hair was still mussed. That much authority shouldn’t have been possible from someone who had been asleep just minutes ago, but the air around him seemed to crackle with it. Or perhaps that was Emma projecting— her stomach knotted and she struggled to defend herself in the face of his stern gaze.

“You were asleep, though…” she said, trying to sound confident but hearing the confession in her almost-whisper. And then the actual word he had said caught up with her brain and she dropped everything on the counter to exclaim, “Wait, three?! You were only at one before! You can’t skip—”

“I can. I did. Go back upstairs.”

“But I—”

“Now.”

Emma paused, feeling overwhelmed. She couldn’t move, wanting so badly to argue but also knowing that it wouldn’t do anything but get her in more trouble. And now he was going to use his hairbrush tomorrow, and she knew that’s what he would use, it’s what he always used when she was intentionally naughty, and she hated the hairbrush. One quick glance at this face told her she was seconds away from being carried up the stairs. She heard the toaster pop, her bagel was ready, and it was somehow the signal her brain needed. She glanced back at the slices longingly for a second, and then walked around the kitchen island toward the stairs, where Danny stood, still watching her.

As her right foot landed on the bottom step, a wave of heat rush up her body. She realized that he was hovering nearby so he could walk her up them, and it made her feel small to have him in step behind her. Any argument died on her lips, though, and she forced her left foot up, onto the next one. When they got to the bedroom, she couldn’t help but cast an imploring look up at her boyfriend. She wanted to be anywhere, anywhere, besides back in this bed. She said quietly, “I feel a lot better today, though, I promise.”

Danny nodded, lifted the covers, and he said, “Good. I’m glad to hear it,” and she realized in an instant that this wasn’t about her being sick, not this particular small detail. He probably would have let her get out of bed once he woke up, if she had just asked him, if she had just waited for him to or woken him up herself. This was now a battle of wills. She had done exactly what she’d been told not to do, and she was suddenly sure that she’d be regretting that choice in more ways than one. Her shoulders sagged, because she knew, too, that Danny didn’t choose his battles unwisely. He would win. He always did.

And so, she climbed under the blankets and allowed herself to be tucked in, once again. “I’ll be back up in just a minute,” Danny said before kissing her forehead and leaving the room. And he was, with half bagel on a plate, a small glass of orange juice, and a large glass of water. She gave him a shy smile and sat up in the bed, blushing faintly but also a little pleased as he spread a napkin over her lap. He wasn’t too mad at her if he was pampering her, she thought happily. Not that he ever really got mad at her. Danny more just had… expectations. And consequences for not meeting those expectations. He was surprisingly good at dealing with chaos, and would have been described by their friends as laid-back or easy going. He’d told Emma once that it wasn’t that he minded not being in control; he just was or he wasn’t. So if it was his job, or his problem, or someone who belonged to him— like me, Emma thought, smiling— he was fully involved.

She immediately frowned again, because for her, fully involved meant that he was going to spank her tomorrow.  She hated even thinking the word, even though a small voice reminded her that she would feel much better afterwards.  She released a small sigh.  No use thinking about it now.  She picked up the bagel and had a bite.

~   ~   ~

The rest of the day passed almost without incident.  Danny did let her go downstairs in the afternoon, and they watched a movie together.  She didn’t start to nod off until the end, and then she took a nap on the sofa.  She was able to eat soup for dinner without any problems.  There were a few times where she began to protest his ministrations, but then she’d watch his eyes grow dark and she’d back down immediately.  Mostly, she was able to push thoughts of tomorrow aside.  The agitation at not working– Emma’s friends would not have described her as laid-back or easy going– even subsided, partially thanks to Danny’s efforts to keep her distracted.  She suspected he might have pushed off some of his own work obligations, but she didn’t even feel bad about it.  Mostly.

Emma only brushed up against Danny’s limits once more, when it was close to bed and she wanted to shower.  “Bath,” he’d said back to her when she’d mentioned it.  “I don’t want to take a bath,” she’d said back.  “I just want a quick shower.”

“Sorry, love.  Not tonight.  I watched you stumble up the stairs, and you probably should have been in bed an hour ago.  Take a bath tonight, and I’ll sit with you.”

“I said I don’t want to take a bath!” she had said back, with more force than she had intended.

“That’s one,” Danny had replied calmly, even as he went into their bathroom and turned on the tub’s faucet.  She felt a sharp intake of breath as she stared as his back.  What’s he going to do at three this time?! she’d wondered, this time with none of the challenge that had led to her very first big act of defiance yesterday.  This time the question was scary.  She had suspected that he was only half concerned with her falling, and half trying to prove a point.  She had suspected that he wouldn’t be interested in hearing that argument.  She had undressed, and climbed into the bath.

~   ~   ~

It was afternoon before Danny decided to address her punishment.  She spent the morning on edge, not wanting to ask and also wanting badly to know.  Now the moment had arrived.  She was in their office on the desktop, sorting through emails she’d missed or not had the energy to answer before, when he appeared in the doorway.  He leaned against the frame, arms and ankles casually crossed and said, “We need to talk, my girl.”

A small sound of disappointment escaped her, but she quickly got to a stopping point in her work and stood, walking hesitantly from behind the desk to take her boyfriend’s now proffered hand.  He raised her knuckles to his lips and kissed them gently, then pulled her past him and out the door, planting a swat on her backside with his other hand.  “Upstairs and find a corner,” he said, and she did exactly that.

About ten minutes later, Emma heard the soft sound of Danny sitting on the bed behind her.  She clenched her bottom involuntarily as she waited for him to call her out of the corner.  He didn’t make her wait long.  Soon she was standing in front of him, slightly between his spread knees, anxiously pulling at the fabric of her shorts and bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.  It was like all of the energy she’d been lacking all week suddenly returned in an explosion of nerves.  In comparison, Danny seemed perfectly at ease, but then didn’t he always? she thought.  The hairbrush was already sitting on the bed beside him, and that didn’t seem like a good sign.  Daniel Strauss had large, hard hands and a powerful swing, and when he did use implements, he typically sent her to fetch them near the end of her punishment.

There were times when she was made to explain whatever incident had lead up to the spanking, times when Danny wasn’t exactly sure about the details but was pretty sure she was guilty.  There was even one time when she had successfully explained herself and he had nodded thoughtfully before deciding not to spank her at all.  This time, though, there was no good explanation and they both knew it.  He’d still ask her plenty of questions, she knew he would, but not until she was already sore and sorry and on the brink of begging for him to stop.

He reached out and tugged on the bottoms of her shorts, which slipped off her hips to fall limply on the floor.  They were stuck around her left foot a second later as Danny pulled her forward and across his right knee.  He reached down to pick her up by the torso, swinging her legs up and making her, for the second time that week, horizontal and reaching for the blankets.  His easy maneuvering of her body made her feel especially vulnerable, and she was acutely aware that this time there would be no last minute reprieve.

She buried her face as his right hand pulled her more snugly against his body, and then the first swat fell and she wasn’t thinking about anything except the sharp sting of his palm on her backside.  Danny’s broad hand found it’s target over and over again, and though her underwear were still up, it didn’t do much to save the round curves of her bottom or the tender skin of her thighs.  He spanked her steadily, turning his hand into a metronome, not losing his rhythm even when she began to squirm, or later when she began to kick.  The only pause came after several minutes, when he decided it was time to lower her white panties.  She moaned into her arms; she always did.  It wasn’t the nudity itself but the lack of autonomy, the voteless decision to strip her of the smallest garment she wore, that made her flush with embarrassment.

There were times when he lingered at this moment, rubbing her back and observing his handiwork, but today he resumed the spanking with a sense of purpose that even in her vulnerable position, Emma recognized.  The echoey cadence of the spanking was interrupted by the noises escaping her, which were happening more and more frequently.  She had always been easy to bring to tears, but usually she did little more than squeak until the end of a spanking, when apologies would come spilling out of mouth.  She knew it was way too early for that, but her bottom already hurt so much!  Her hands, too, couldn’t be contained, though Danny was used to pinning one hand to her side or back.  Emma didn’t like to have them restrained, and so always fought to keep them forward.  At this moment they were both pressed against Danny’s thigh and she was pushing so hard that her back arched and only his strong grip around her waist held her there.

“Please, Danny!” she finally said, and to her surprise and against all precedent, he slowed down.  She relaxed her upper body as best she could, bring her hands in front of her to grab the blankets again.  As the swats slowly faded into gentle caresses, he began to speak.  “I know it has been a very hard week for you, little girl,” he said as his fingertips gently slid up and down her hot bottom and the tops of her thighs, circling the edges of her punished skin, “but I am not currently accepting ‘the flu’ as an excuse for bad behavior.”  He landed a tremendous swat at the end of his statement, then continued over her yelp, “I know it is very trying for you to not be working, and that the boredom probably felt like a punishment.  It wasn’t.”  She groaned as she felt him reach for the hairbrush, but he didn’t pause his lecture.  “By the time I’m finished with you, you will understand the difference.”

He placed the smooth wooden back of the brush against the hot skin of her backside, and pulled her body closer to his, so her side was plastered snugly against his stomach.  He reached up and placed his right hand on her right shoulder, letting it slide down her bicep so that he could untangle her arm and align it with her body, his grip settling firmly on her wrist.  She gave a little kick at this, then said pitifully, “But I’ve been good!”

She couldn’t see the brief affectionate smile on his face, but it was there.  “You have been good about your hands.  And I’m sure now that you will continue being good until I’m finished.  I’m afraid there’s no chance of it otherwise.”

Emma heard the threat in those words and began to scramble when she felt the brush lift a second later.  “No don’t don’t don’t I’m already sorry!  I’m already sorry, Danny!”

Her voice went up an octave at the last word; the brush crashed down and even though Danny knew they weren’t anywhere near the intensity of his usual “finishing” hairbrush swats, Emma was too overwhelmed to tell the difference.  For his part, Danny wanted to make good on his promise– the promise he felt was implicit when he counted to three.  Three promised consequences.  Three promised regret.

He brought the hairbrush down again and again, unfazed by her apologies or her tears or her wildly kicking legs.  Soon all of her words were lost, her entire vocabulary erased save his name, which she repeated with increasing desperation.  Eventually, even that was lost, and all that was left was the sound. Swat. After swat. after swat.

~   ~   ~

When Danny finally ended the spanking, Emma’s bottom was swollen and her breathing ragged.  He knew that it wasn’t the worst spanking he had ever given, but she was delicate now and he felt that as he held her.  Her body was worn and her emotions drained, though she had the strength to cling to his shirt and mumble into his chest, quiet “I’m sorry, sir, I’m so sorry,” while he mumbled his own “It’s okay, baby.  It’s okay,” over her.

She napped without complaint that evening.  He stayed in bed with her, reading while she slept.  When she woke, he massaged her back and rubbed lotion gently over her tender backside.  Emma pouted where she could get away with it, but generally after being spanked she felt small and doting.  She did as she was told, and he lavished praise on her for every small detail.  She even managed to keep from working one more full day.  It helped that she couldn’t bare to sit at the desk.

 

 

 

Advertisements

No Passing Zone

Standard

“Go back! I like that song!” Jade said from the driver’s seat as she and Lisa headed home from a morning spent at the park with friends. Lisa fiddled with the stations, flipping back a few, and asking, “this one?”

“Yeah,” responded Jade, immediately beginning to sing along. Lisa, indifferent to the radio, pulled up Instagram on her phone and was quickly absorbed by the app. She glanced up a minute later, though, startled to feel the car accelerate rapidly. Adrenaline rushed through her as she watched the red cab of an 18 wheeler barreling toward them, seeming to take up most of the front windshield. “Jade!” she yelled, even as she saw that they were passing another huge truck on the right.

The younger woman slid quickly back into her own lane, narrowly dodging both rigs and decelerating to match traffic as the hill they had just sped up tapered off to flat highway again. Both women were quiet for a moment, just the sound of top 40 hits chirping cheerfully at them as they both tried to slow their beating hearts. Finally Jade began, “That was…”

“A no-passing zone!” Lisa cut her off, her voice loud. “That was a no passing zone! What were you thinking?!”

Jade blushed, her own adrenaline tempered by the immediate dread that had settled over her, and said defensively, “it looked clear?”

“It looked clear,” Lisa repeated, letting the words hang in the air.  She let the quiet fill the car, until Jade couldn’t handle it and blurted, “It won’t happen again! Seriously, I know that was dumb. It was like the scariest moment of my life.”

“Get us home, little girl,” Lisa replied ominously. “It’s about to be the second scariest moment of your life.”

~ ~ ~

Jade did her best not to fidget in the corner of the living room where she now stood, hands behind her back and nose nearly touching the wall.  She wasn’t very good at corner time but she needed every ounce of good will she could muster from Lisa.  There were times when the woman’s patience brought to mind images of saints and angels. This was not one of those times. The rest of the ride home had been painfully silent, and the young woman wasn’t sure if she was dreading the spanking or the lecture that would surely accompany it more.

“Come here, young lady,” she heard from behind her. She turned to see Lisa seated on the couch, trusty hairbrush resting on the coffee table, and suddenly she was sure: she was way more scared of the spanking.

This was all too familiar now, though. Jade’s feet felt weighted as she dragged herself slowly to where her mentor sat, her face just as stern as it had been during the silent car ride home. That wasn’t good. Jade was sure she’d been in the corner for a solid 15 minute, which was long for Lisa. And she hadn’t appeared to have calmed down at all. Gulp.

Jade tried to make her face reflect how pitiful she felt right now. She didn’t have a good argument to make, and had kept herself from saying “but I made it” several times. She knew exactly how that would play out, and she liked her thighs the color they were, thanks all the same. And even she knew that it wasn’t a good argument anyway. She had gotten lucky. That was all there was to it.

So, she had her best “I’m sorry” frown in place when she stopped in front of the other woman, and even folded her hands compliantly behind her head without being asked. Lisa didn’t always start by taking Jade’s pants down, but the younger woman had a feeling. It didn’t stop her from shutting her eyes tight when Lisa reached up to undo her belt and unbutton her pants. Jade was startled into opening her eyes when she felt a hand on her hip, looking down to see Lisa grabbing Jade’s belt and pulling, watching it snake through the loops and then dangle there ominously.

Jade’s eyes went wide but she didn’t say anything, probably because Lisa was looking up with a dangerous “I dare you” face. But a voice in her mind yelled, “my belt? My own belt?!” She didn’t have time to contemplate further, though, because then her pants were around her ankles and she was pulled abruptly over Lisa’s lap, her hands leaving her head to catch herself on the couch. Her legs were moved up with infuriating ease, and she felt Lisa’s hand resting on her underwear-clad bottom as she asked, “Do I need to go over what happened today? Do I need to explain why I am about to spank your little backside all sorts of rosy?” Jade gulped again as she murmered, “no ma’am.”

“Good,” came Lisa’s voice, and then her hand was up and landing again, the muffled sound of her palm on the blue cotton underwear filling the room. Jade tried to stay still, but it was always a struggle at the beginning. She knew the spanking was going to get much worse before it got better, but those first swats always made her wiggle, and Lisa was clearly not in the mood for an extended warm up. All too soon, Jade felt her undies being pulled down, with hardly a missed beat between swats. The accompanying sound was much louder, sharp and echoey in the living room, and Jade clutched a pillow helplessly.

By the time Lisa’s hand stopped falling, Jade knew the dark skin of her bottom was a dusky rose shade, and she dreaded the next bit. She felt her body shift as her mentor reached over for the hairbrush, resting the cool wood on her hot bottom. She didn’t resume spanking immediately though, instead rubbing the younger woman’s back and asking, “What does it mean when you see two solid yellow lines on the highway?” Jade answered promptly, “don’t pass.”

“Right,” came Lisa’s response, along with two hard swats with the brush. “Why were there two yellow lines there?”

“So I wouldn’t pass?” Jade said uncertainly, and wasn’t actually surprised by the flurry of swats that came next. It hadn’t felt like the right answer, but she didn’t know what the woman wanted. “I don’t know I don’t know!” she squealed.

“What made them put two yellow lines on that hill?” she asked.

“Oh…” Jade bit her lip. She had a feeling this was the last question for a while, and as much as she hated having to answer, she really didn’t want the hairbrush spanking she knew was about to continue. Still, she answered hesitantly, “Because there was… low… visibility probably?”

“That is exactly right,” Lisa said above her, and as Jade knew would happen, she began using the hairbrush in earnest as she lectured. “You thought you knew something, little girl. Thought you knew better. You didn’t know better; you just knew less. And knowing less put you- and me- at serious risk for no good reason.” Lisa emphasized the last three words with particularly vicious swats to the young woman’s sit spots. She continued spanking and lecturing for several minutes, holding Jade in place when she started to struggle. She knew the girl couldn’t help it, but it didn’t slow her down. By the time she returned the brush to the coffee table, Jade’s bottom was hot and dark pink, every inch flushed with the impact of the spanking. The lecture has faded as the cries of “please” and “I’m sorry!” increased, and now there was only the sounds of Jade’s heavy breathing as Lisa rubbed her back with a gentleness that had not yet crept back into her voice: “We’re almost finished.”

“I learned my lesson!” Jade wailed, knowing her belt was laying on the coffee table, knowing it could only be for one reason, and knowing her protests weren’t going to change a thing. Still, she couldn’t help herself. “I’ll never pass another car as long as I live!”

Lisa patted her bottom, not hard, almost business like. “That’s unreasonable. You will obey the rules, though, or you’ll end up right back here. Stand up.” Jade took a deep breath, then eased herself backward, up on her knees. Lisa stood as Jade slowly planted her own feet on the floor, and guided the younger woman’s few steps over, until she was laying over the arm of the couch. Her tender backside was up in the air, toes just barely on the hardwood floor, keeping her balanced. She reached for a pillow again and she heard the clink of the belt buckle being lifted from the table.

Jade bit her lips, trying to prepare herself, as she felt the cool leather rest on the lower curve of her bottom. Before she could formulate a strategy, though, it was up again and whistling back down, landing across her sitspots. “Owwww!” she yelled, drumming her feet pointlessly on the floor. “Twenty-nine more” came the unsympathetic reply, along with another lick of the belt in the same spot. Jade had a moment where she thought having a number would help, but that moment ended as she quickly lost count of the number of times the black leather made contact with the same spot, kissing the meeting of her thighs and bottom.

At number 26, though Jade couldn’t have said what number they were on, she stood abruptly, hands flying to cover her sore bottom. She looked wide eyed at Lisa’s face, but the woman just raised an eyebrow as she continued to hold the belt, ready to continue. Jade kept eye contact, pleading silently for the end, but the only response she got was a question- “Should we start over?”

That was all Jade needed. She practically flung herself back over the couch arm. Lisa didn’t make her wait long. The next lick landed the moment she was settled, then three more, and then it was over. She felt her underwear being tugged gently up, and then felt Lisa settle herself on the couch, a hand running gently through Jade’s hair. Jade stayed that way for a moment, composing herself, before standing and stepping out if her jeans and easing herself down onto the couch, snuggling into Lisa’s open arms. A few quiet minutes of cuddling later, she said “Sorry, Lisa. It really won’t happen again.”

A kiss was planted firmly on Jade’s head as she heard simply from above her, “I know.” Jade smiled and snuggled closer.

Power Exchange

Standard

“Ben, come on babe! We were supposed to be on the road ten minutes ago.”

“I’m coming!”

~ ~ ~

“Honey, we’re going to miss our flight. I told you to eat before we left.”

“I wasn’t hungry earlier! It’ll just take a minute to order.”

~ ~ ~

“Benjamin, put the phone away. They have already asked you twice.”

“It doesn’t matter, Oliver. My one phone is not going to be the reason our flight crashes.”

Oliver leaned in very close to Ben, who sat by the window in their row of three. “No, it won’t be. Because it will be turned off and stowed in the seat back pocket in the next thirty seconds.” Ben glared at his boyfriend, a frown on his face that looked distinctly pouty, but Oliver continued talking in the same low controlled voice, “You have used up the very end of my patience, little boy. Your behavior from this moment until we land better be close to perfect, or the first thing I’m going to ask your brother is if I can borrow his hairbrush.”

Ben squirmed in his seat, glancing around the cabin conspicuously as he stowed his phone, but no one was paying attention to him besides Oliver. He crossed his arms and slouched in his seat, pulling his hoody lower over his head and across his eyes, all under the watchful glare of his disapproving boyfriend.

~ ~ ~

They made it to Danny and Emma’s without incident, much to Oliver’s surprise and relief. Ben’s efforts to sulk had lead to an accidental nap, which seemed to have improved his mood. It was a fun reunion for the brothers, who only saw each other a few times a year, and their respective partners got along like old friends.

The next morning, however, Ben’s bad attitude was back in full force. He was cranky about getting up for breakfast, so Oliver let him sleep; then he was mad that he had missed it. He stomped around the kitchen, looking for cereal and complaining loudly. He shut a cabinet door with particular ferocity, the bang echoing loudly through the house. Ben’s shoulders hunched and he froze, not wanting to turn around as he heard two doors swing open. He slowly peeked over his shoulder, then turned to see his boyfriend standing with his arms crossed in the guest room door, leveling a glare in his direction. Ben pushed his back against the counter and glanced upstairs, where Danny stood in his own bedroom door in a similarly intimidating position. “Sorry,” Ben mumbled. “Accident.”

Danny’s arms uncrossed as his hands found their ways to his hips and he repeated back, “Accident?” Ben looked up at him, attempting to look contrite, and watched his big brother hesitate uncharacteristically. Dan glanced at Oliver’s equally rigid figure, then gave Ben a look that made the younger man blush and look down. “No more accidents, please,” he said in a deceptively casual voice before turning around and shutting his bedroom door behind him.

Benjamin caught himself halfway through a sigh of relief before he remembered another pair of eyes were still watching him. “Sorry, Ollie,” he said sheepishly.

“I’m going to show you what sorry looks like if you keep it up” Oliver said sternly, keeping his gaze leveled at his boyfriend. When it became apparent that he was going to have to fix his meal with an audience, Ben turned slowly and opened the next cabinet door, very gently, finding the cereal and continuing his task. He was embarrassed to be overseen but grateful to have his boyfriend. On a good day with just Danny, Ben would be parked in a corner right now. On a bad day…

Ben squirmed a little at the thought, trying to pass it off as getting comfortable as he sat at the kitchen table. He relaxed a bit as he heard Oliver’s retreating footsteps, and he knew he was finally alone.

~ ~ ~

It could have ended there, but of course it didn’t. They had a lazy day, a nice dinner, and part of a fun round of mini-golf. Ben’s bad mood began to creep back in the further along the course they got, and as he began to lose. He made comments that were less funny and more snide, and his body language was aggressive as he took his shots across green felt fields full of miniature windmills and into the mouths of plaster alligators. He and Oliver were ahead of Emma and Danny, and the mood of the group was definitely taking a hit. Things came to a head at hole 17. They had caught up to the family ahead of them, and in his impatience, Ben had shot while one of their members was cutting across the green to catch up with her parents. His ball ricocheted off her foot, a product of bad timing that should have resulted in an agreeable do-over. Instead, Ben raised his small golf club up and rammed it back into the ground, hard, as he swore.

Oliver’s mouth dropped open and his eyebrows shot up; he quickly spun toward the other group and was grateful that the girl had simply apologized when the ball hit her foot and kept walking. The rest of them either didn’t hear or were politely ignoring the outburst. When he turned back around, it was to see Danny walking forward, eyes laser focused on his little brother. Though for a second he was sure that Dan was going to start wailing on Ben right there, Oliver was grateful things did not play out that way. He was already embarrassed enough at his boyfriend’s tantrum.

“Wait, Danny!” came Ben’s panicked voice. He was clearly worried about the same thing. Dan took his brother’s club and handed it and his own to Oliver without looking over. His attention was still completely on Ben, which was not something most people ever wanted to happen. He still didn’t speak as he grabbed the younger man’s right bicep with his own left hand and practically marched the boy off the course and toward the parking lot. Oliver shook his head and sighed, bending down to retrieve Ben’s ball. He and Emma exchanged awkward glances. She looked worried, and he guessed she was right to do so. All evidence suggested that Dan was going to tear Ben a new one as soon as they got home, and Oliver couldn’t blame him. He sighed again as he and Emma walked toward the hut to return their equipment. He should have just spanked his boyfriend at the airport.

~ ~ ~

The ride home was painfully silent. Emma and Oliver had approached the car slowly; they could see the silhouette of Dan in the front seat turned around, talking to the shadowy figure that was Ben, slumped in the back seat with his arms crossed, his entire body pushed back against the door. Suddenly shape one turned back around and the car came to life. Emma and Oliver hurried the last few steps, since it appeared the lecture was over, and loaded into the car. Oliver was a little worried about Ben, but his worry turned quickly back into aggravation. He thought the younger man might need some comfort or reassurance, but no, Benjamin’s face was once again defiant and pouty, and he refused to look anywhere besides out the window. Fine, he thought, be that way and see if I don’t spank you again before bed tonight.

Ben barely waited until the car was stopped before jumping out, not quite slamming his door and snatching the hidden key on the front porch and storming into the house, all while the three in the car watched. Emma made a small worried sound, and Danny moved his review mirror to look at Oliver as he spoke. “Are you going to sort him out?” he said bluntly.

Oliver stammered at first. The question caught him off-guard, but Dan watched the confusion turn to resolution as he answered. “I… well. Yeah, I think I will.” And then he unbuckled his seatbelt, got out the car and walked purposefully into the house.

Danny reached over and put a hand on Emma’s thigh and squeezed gently. “You okay?” he asked. She put her hand over his and returned the squeeze as she said with a small shrug and uncharacteristic nonchalance, “It’s about time.” Danny smiled, and they headed into the house.

~ ~ ~

Oliver wasted no time once he had made a decision. Whatever patience he’d possessed was long gone, and he felt empowered by Danny to do what he should have done days ago. He found Ben in the small bathroom attached to their room, drying his freshly washed face over the sink, clad only in dark red boxer-briefs as he prepared for bed. When he brought the towel down, he was startled to make eye contact in the mirror with Oliver, who had moved into the room quietly and now stood behind his boyfriend with his arms crossed. Ben’s mouth dropped open and he watched in horror as Oliver’s arms unfolded and he reached over, taking Ben’s bicep and pulling him toward the bed.

“You guys can’t just haul me around whenever you feel like it!” Ben yelled, resisting, but despite their relatively similar body types, his efforts were no use on the short walk. In no time, Oliver was perched on the edge of the bed, one foot propped on the wooden frame that held the mattress, elevating the knee over which he deposited his bratty boyfriend. Ben struggled the entire time, which was new for Oliver but didn’t slow him down. He had spanked his boyfriend a few times now, but only playfully or for something Ben himself felt guilty over. Now he was beginning to see that his boyfriend needed this physical reassurance even when the big stuff was taken care of. Well, thought Oliver as he ran an appreciative hand across the fabric of Benjamin’s underwear, I think I am up to the task.

He lifted his hand and began the spanking, bringing it down forcibly enough to rocket Ben’s body forward, even as he redoubled his efforts to rise. “Let me up!” he screeched.

“This is happening whether you make a big production of it or not, little boy. But Danny and Emma are plenty aware of your situation without the yelling.”

His words had the desired effect. He glanced down to see a tremendous blush rising on Ben’s face, and he was much less vocal as swats continued to reign down on his still wiggly behind. Oliver wasn’t holding back, perturbed as he was by the constantly ignored warnings and continued naughty behavior from his boyfriend since the beginning of their trip. Several minutes passed with just the steady sound of one young man’s hand landing rhythmically on the other’s bottom, accompanied by the occasional grunts and shifting of blankets as Ben continued to struggle quietly.

Almost to the moment, it occurred to Oliver that his arm was wearing out much earlier than he wanted, and there was a knock at the door. Two sharp raps echoed and both boys paused, Ben craning his neck awkwardly to look, his eyes wide. Oliver said “come in,” knowing it could only be one of two people. Ben groaned; it was Danny, carrying his hairbrush and handing it wordlessly to Oliver, who nodded his thanks.

Ben was too busy burying his face in his arms to watch Danny leave. Oliver rested his newly acquired implement on the red boxer briefs; the thin fabric did little to prevent the heat emanating from his boyfriend’s backside. He began to speak.

“It must be very embarrassing to have your brother see you getting your backside spanked by your boyfriend.” The remark caused a low moan from Ben, who was suddenly feeling very small. “Today, Benjamin, I was embarrassed. I was embarrassed by your behavior at mini-golf. I was embarrassed by your poor attitude on the way home. Especially because I know, and Danny and Emma know, what a charming and fun person you usually are.”

Oliver could feel Ben’s body tensing, and suspected that his boyfriend’s resistance wasn’t totally out of his system. Not wanting to give him a chance to get worked up again, Oliver picked up the brush, then hooked his thumbs under the elastic of Ben’s underwear and pulled them down. Ben did start to wiggle immediately, accompanied by an indignant “Oliver!”

Oliver began spanking again, and the sound of the wooden hairbrush on bare skin echoed in the room. “I think that’s enough talking, little boy. You know how unacceptable this attitude of yours has been and the behavior that came with it. Now we are at the consequences stage, and you have earned yourself a nice long spanking, so that’s what you’re going to get.”

“Ollieee…” came a pitiful response, and Oliver felt confident that the wiggles and kicks were almost involuntary now. He was going to have to invest in a hairbrush soon.

“You don’t need a hairbrush! I’ll be good!” said Ben. Oops, thought Oliver. Didn’t mean to say that out loud. He began to wrap up the spanking, concentrating on Ben’s sit-spots, making sure his entire bottom was a uniform shade of red, not much different than the underwear dangling around Ben’s knees. He slowed, then stopped, setting the hairbrush down and running his hand up and down his boyfriend’s back and bottom, inspecting and comforting at the same time. Eventually he pulled the young man up, reassuring him with forehead kisses and gentle touches, then guiding him to bed.

As he climbed into bed himself, Oliver felt strangely satisfied. He felt very confident that the next two days would be pleasant, and he liked knowing that he had take care of his partner. He pulled Ben close, smiling as they both drifted off to sleep.

~ ~ ~

The trip did finish well. Despite some initial protesting, Ben had returned his brother’s hairbrush with an apology for his behavior. He got off with barely any lecturing, for which he was grateful. He had always recognized his brother’s quiet alpha status, his ability to find what motivated people and use it to bring out their best. He was starting to see, too, that Danny had no stake in who handled the consequences or encouragements he thought necessary, at least for the people for whom he felt responsible. He just wanted them taken care of.

On the return flight, Oliver smiled and Benjamin scowled as they made their way through security. The oak hairbrush was tucked innocently into a side pocket of Oliver’s carry-on backpack, an unexpected souvenir. They went through without incident, and were soon homeward bound.

~ ~ ~

Back at home, Danny was straightening their room as Emma stripped the bed in the guest room. She was just tugging the fitted sheet off the far corner of the bed when she heard a call from upstairs.

“Emma, have you seen my hairbrush?”

That’s a Good Mutual Friend

Standard

David was not a confrontational man. He wasn’t prone to raising his voice. He never interrupted others, even when they insisted on yelling. He didn’t need to. When David had something he needed to say, people listened. Sometimes, it took a look. Sometimes, a gentle clearing of his throat. Occasionally, a loud “Excuse me.” People listened, of course, excluding Emily Anne.

She had waltzed into his life like a gentle tornado several months ago, a date set up by a mutual friend. He found her charming and charismatic, endearing and endlessly frustrating at the same time. And though he knew there was really no such thing as a gentle tornado, he found himself falling for her just the same.

Emily didn’t need to fight to make herself heard, either. She was fiercly independent, the kind of woman who did not ask permission and did so unapologetically. She found David steady and kind, intriguing and genuine, and above all, trustworthy. She was falling for him as well.

When they had their first fight, David was unprepared. It was over such a small thing… he had come to pick her up for a date, and her front door was unlocked, keys dangling from the beneath the handle. He’d grabbed them and let himself in to her apartment with a knock. “Emily?” he had called. He gave her a reproving look as he handed them over. “Be careful, babe. You left these in the door.” Instead of a thank you, she had rolled her eyes as she took them, dismissing him with a flippant “oh I do that all the time.”

“You leave your keys in the door? All the time?” he had asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Not a big deal. Where are we going for dinner?” she answered, brushing him off.

“I think it is a big deal, young lady,” he said, followed by a pause as he tried to mask his own surprise. Young lady? Where had that come from? He continued though, “This is not the worst neighborhood, but keeping your door locked is an effortless way to keep yourself a little safer.” His second surprise came when she didn’t argue or agree, but huffed at him. She huffed!

For her part, Emily had no idea where the huffing came from either. She just felt herself give in to some small unreasonable voice that rarely escaped. In restropect, she recognized that David was the first man she had ever trusted enough to hear that voice, but in the moment she just felt confused, and instead of backing down, she picked a bigger fight. They both got mad. Dinner was cancelled.

A week later, laying in bed at his apartment and both feeling the warmth from a now empty bottle of wine, Emily let the little voice take over again. Playfully she walked her fingers up his bare chest, smiling mischievously until…

“OW!” David yelled.

Emily snuggled closer to him as he covered his freshly pinched nipple. “Oops,” she said. A minute later, her fingers crept back up to his chest, this time taking only a few tiny steps before they were captured in his much larger hand. Leaning his head down close to hers, he said in a scary and quiet voice, “if you pinch me again, I will spank that little backside of yours until you can’t sit still.”

Butterflies errupted in her stomach and she jerked her hand back, tucking her mischievous fingers between their bodies and hiding her face in the crook of his arm. He smiled, though she couldn’t see it. The wine had made him bold, but he had listened to his instincts, and been prepared to apologize if he had read her wrong. It seemed to have paid off.

Two days later, it was date night again. As David climbed the steps to her apartment door, a bit of metal glinted in the evening sun. His expression darkened. Surely not.

Her keys again hung from the door. David grabbed them and walked inside, calling out. “Emily Anne?” though he expected no answer this time; he could hear a hair dryer running in the bathroom. When he appeared in the mirror behind her, she jumped and shrieked. “David! You scared me!”

“That is not all I plan to do,” he said, reaching over to unplug the hair dryer before taking it from her hands and setting it on the closed toilet lid. “You have some thinking to do.” With that, her grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the bedroom, steering her directly into the one unoccupied corner by the bed. Her outfit for the evening was laid out neatly, but for now she wore only her underwear and a blue tank top. “Why?!” she said as he arranged her hands behind her back, and he was pleased and affirmed in his choice by the faint whine he heard there, what he recognized now as a secret and rare glimpse of her most free self.

“Because a certain little girl left her keys in the door. Again.”

Emily made to turn around, and he knew she was rolling her eyes. A sharp thwack rang out, and Emily practically flung herself back into the corner. He had swatted her! And it hurt! She felt her face begin to burn with embarrassment. This was what she wanted, she thought. She had danced around it from practically the beginning of the relationship; it was perhaps the only thing in her life for which she had never directly asked.

David stepped back and watched the handprint bloom on the undercurve of her left cheek, faint fingerprints reaching out from beneath her peach colored underwear. If David had not been David, she would have eventually been forced to have one of those direct and difficult conversations. But perhaps their mutual friend knew more than they gave her credit for, because David suspected exactly what she wanted, and now he felt more confident than ever.

When he was sure that his girlfriend would stay put, at least for the time being, he walked back to the restroom and grabbed the sturdy wooden hairbrush she’d been using when he arrived. He returned quickly, set the hairbrush on the bed and moved her outfit to her dresser. Then he made himself comfortable, sitting on the bed’s edge and watching Emily shift her weight from foot to foot for a moment before he began to speak. “Stop fidgeting,” he began sternly. “You have landed yourself in trouble, and from now on, that is going to include corner time, so I suggest you get used to this position.” She groaned and leaned her head forward, letting it softly thunk into the joint of the walls.

“And when you are finished with your time-out, I am going to put you across my lap and spank your bare bottom.”

“David!!!” she wailed, having been unprepared to actually hear those words, and her hands jumped to cover her backside. He had expected something like this, and easily took the two steps from the bed to her corner and planted a matching swat on her right cheek, more pink fingerprints blooming. He smirked to himself as she went rigidly back into position. She wasn’t the only one who knew how to push buttons. He was thoroughly enjoying this.

He settled himself back on the bed and began to scold her. “I believe I was very clear about my feelings on you leaving your door unlocked, much less having your keys left there for the taking. And I understand that accidents happen, and we all have our moments. But you did not take me seriously the first time I showed concern, so you are going to take me seriously now.” She had begun to shift again as he lectured, and this time he let her. Her time in the corner was going to be over soon. He let her stand for several minutes in silence for good measure, though.

When he said “come here,” she jumped and pushed herself farther into the corner. He kept quiet, and was proud to see her ease herself out a moment later and shuffle to his side. She looked down at him pitifully, her mouth curved in a pout. “Do we have to?” she said softly.

“No,” he replied thoughtfully, taking her hands in his and squeezing them reassuringly, “but we’re going to.” And he pulled her gently to his side and then across his lap. She settled herself, would have even called it comfortable if she hadn’t been so nervous. David didn’t make her wait long. He pulled her in close with his left arm and said, “I think this is long overdue, little love. When I’m finished, you are going to have a very sore bottom, and a new motivation for keeping track of your keys. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” she said into her arms, and though it was muffled, he felt a second surge of pride. Not wanting to make her wait any longer, her raised his right hand and began to spank her. She remained still as his hand bounced on her quickly warming backside, absorbing each swat stoically. He smiled as he spanked her, unsurprised. His instinct to grab the hairbrush had been right; she had never been entry-level at anything, and spanking was no exception for his exceptional girl. He paused and hooked his fingers under the elastic of her underwear, ready with his free hand when she did react with a squeak and a frantic attempt to stop him. He paused, his left hand around her wrist as she clutched the thin fabric with her right hand. “What kind of spanking did I say this would be?”

She jerked her hand free and pulled it back under her, attempting to get out of the question by showing compliance, but he had no plans to let her get away with it. “Emily Anne,” he said sternly, and he could feel her body tense in resistance. Alright, he thought, and he resumed spanking her, underwear still up but his hand now much further down, softer swats because that’s all it took when one spanked a pair of naughty thighs. Emily didn’t think they felt softer at all, and now her feet did kick and she finally yelled “bare.”

He stopped, resting his hand on her bottom again, and asking in the silence, “how?”

She screwed up her face and her courage and said again, quickly but clearly, “on my bare bottom.”

“Good girl,” he said, and then she felt the cool air hit her hot bottom and she attempted to bury her face under the bedspread. David resumed spanking her, a little surprised to see that she still remained fairly still. That wouldn’t last long, he thought, glancing at the hairbrush. A moment later, he paused to grab it, gripping her tighter before resting the smooth wood on her bottom to prepare her. Again her muscles constricted, this time in anticipation, and he proved to be right about her stoicism as he brought it crashing down.

“David! Please!” she yelled, keeping her hands away but moving her backside and legs this way and that in a vain attempt to escape the dreadful sting of the wood on her bottom. “I won’t do it again!”

“Oh, you might do it again. And we will deal with that if and when the time comes,” David said as he continued his steady assault on her backside. “What you will not do is ignore me when I express concern for you, not without facing consequences. Also,” he said, as if it were an afterthought, “no more pinching.”

“Okay! Yes sir. Yes sir. Okay!” she replied. He swatted her a few more times, then set the brush aside and asked, “Are you going to behave yourself for the rest of the evening?”

She nodded meekly, and he swatted her thighs. “Ouch! Yes sir!”

“Good,” he said smiling. He pulled her underwear up and allowed her to stand; she immediately began rubbing her bottom, her bottom lip trapped by her teeth as she hopped up and down. “That really hurt!” she said accusingly, but her expression was more pitiful than challenging. He smiled and opened his arms, whispering gently into her ear a moment later, “Spankings are supposed to hurt. The next one will hurt, too. And the one after that.”

And though she knew it was supposed to be a threat, she smiled into his chest, feeling content and happy, and very very sore.

No Smoking

Standard

Fall was Candace’s favorite season.  She reveled in the bright colors and cold air, and had a scarf collection that grew every year.  Never one for neighborhood walks, she suddenly became energized and looked forward to free afternoons just so she could slip into her favorite boots and walk around the block, taking pictures of her favorite trees against the clear blue sky.

She was just returning home from one of these happy walks when she noticed smoke coming from one of the windows.  Not billowing black smoke, but thin wispy white smoke that disappeared quickly.  The happy peace she felt dissipated just as fast.  That was Harper’s room… was she smoking? Inside??

Ohhh, Jessie is going to kill her, Candace thought angrily.  No, I’m going to kill her.

She stormed inside, and was throwing open the door to her sister’s room seconds after she’d entered the house.  Harper was scrambling to shut the window and hide a pack of cigarettes under her pillow at the same time.  She visibly relaxed as she saw it was only Candace.  “Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me.  I thought you were Jesse.”  She actually looked up, seeing the thunderous look on Candace’s face.  “What?” she asked nervously.  Candace had been her best friend since they were children, and had always looked out for her; she had become even more of a big sister since Harper had actually moved in the Candace and Jessie last year.  She’d seen her look angry before, but she’d never seen that face directed at her.

“What do you think you’re doing, Harper?!  You don’t smoke!”

“You don’t know my life!” Harper replied, trying to be jokey and lighten the mood.  Candace didn’t take the bait, though.  Instead she walked over to the bed, reaching under Harper’s pillow and grabbing the pack of cigarettes, then turning abruptly and heading for the kitchen.  Harper scrambled after her, indignant.  “Hey, those are mine!”

Candace stepped on the peddle of the garbage can, dropping the pack resolutely and letting the metal top shut with a bang.  Harper walked over, making as if to take them back out, but was stopped by a hand on her chest.  “No.”

Harper’s mouth dropped open.  No? she thought, but she was too surprised to speak at first.  As she recovered, her expression became stubborn and she shoved Candace’s arm away forcefully.  “Yes!” she practically yelled.  Her face flushed at that, because even to her own ears, she sounded like a little kid about to throw a tantrum.  She continued stubbornly on, though a little more quietly.  “I’m old enough to smoke if I want to.  Who made you the boss?”

Candace took a step into Harper’s personal space, and the slightly younger woman stepped back, again caught off-guard.  “You shouldn’t need a boss to tell you not to be so dumb, Harper.  You know Jessie would lose her shit.  Since when do you even want to smoke, anyway?”

Harper tried to recover, embarrassed that she felt so intimidated by a girl in Ugg boots and a cable-knit sweater.  “I just wanted to!” she said hotly.  If it had been anyone else, she might have shoved them at this point, but this was Candace, who had backed down from every fight they’d ever been in.  She was pissed, but she’d just get the cigarettes later.  She turned, faking nonchalance and walking toward the living room.  “Whatever, Candace.”

“Hey, I asked you a question.  I’m serious!  Why do you suddenly want to smoke?  You haven’t touched a cigarette since we both coughed our lungs up trying them at 15.  What changed?” Candace was following her, and Harper was beyond annoyed at this point.  She turned, her expression challenging as she looked right into her sister’s face, and said “Hey Candace, do me a favor? Fuck off?”

She turned back around just as quickly, smiling smugly to herself. If she’d been less amused by her own rude indifference, she might not have turned back around so quickly, or plopped down on the couch so casually, reaching with purposeful cheer for the television remote.  She might have watched her best friend and chosen family stand up a little straighter, and perhaps noted how much she looked like a short, blond Jessie in this moment.  She might have taken a moment to wonder why Candace headed down the hall to their bedrooms so determinedly, or been ready for her return a moment later.

Instead, she got her third shock of the day when her ear was suddenly grabbed from behind.  In no time she was off the couch, feeling oddly powerless to do anything but go where she was tugged– which happened to be right back on the couch, but in a very different position.  She was across Candace’s lap when her now-red ear was released, and immediately began trying to get up again.  She didn’t even yell; she just grunted and struggled.  She had twenty pounds on Candace at least, and had played soccer and basketball all through high school!  “Fucking Zumba!!! ” was what finally came out of her mouth, it being the only explanation her brain could fathom for her now helpless state.

Candace laughed, not even sounding out of breath.  “And surprise and leverage.  But yeah, Zumba helps,” she said as she held Harper easily in place.  The dark haired young woman was getting tired quickly.  Candace had her legs locked around Harper’s, and the other woman’s body close against her with one arm pinned behind her back.  With her free hand, Candace quickly tugged the sweats Harper was wearing down just below her butt, revealing Amazing Spider-Man underwear.  “Enough!” yelled Harper, “Let me up!”

“You know what, Harp, you may not realize it, but you got two big sisters the day you moved in here,” Candace said, resting her hand on the girl’s bottom.  Harper practically growled. “You are like six months older than me!”

“Eight,” came Candace’s reply, “not that it matters.  You earned a  spanking and  how much older I am has nothing to do with it.  I find you smoking, in the house like a crazy person, and then when I say something you’re a jerk to me?  I don’t think so.  I don’t deserve it.  But you deserve this.”  And with that, she brought her hand down on the web-covered design of Harper’s underwear.  The first dozen swats were a little stingy, but nothing Harper would describe as painful.  It got worse, though, and quickly.  She was sure Candace had never spanked anyone before, but she had been on the receiving end more than once and was apparently a quick study.  In no time at all, Harper’s bottom was a bright shade of pink that clashed horribly with her underwear and brought Candace great satisfaction.

Harper was silent, though it was getting harder to stay that way.  Once she’d realized she was pinned, she had decided to just wait things out.  She didn’t plan to give an inch; no noise, no wiggling, no kicking, no whining.  That was her plan.

A swat landed low and a little “umph” escaped her.  The involuntary noise made her angry, and Harper decided to pass this emotion along in the form of a hard pinch with her left hand, which had been jammed between her body and the back of the couch.  She got a hold of the skin of Candace’s stomach beneath her gray sweater and squeezed.  The spanking stopped as Candace jumped and yelled “Ow!  You little brat!!!”

Harper smiled to herself, happy with the reaction, and then “HEY NO” as her underwear were whisked down and suddenly she found herself getting a real true blue no holds barred spanking as she felt the unfortunately familiar sting of Jessie’s wooden hairbrush land on her now bare bottom.  There were no more thoughts after that, unless “ow” counted as a thought.  There was just the loud smacking of the brush and the increasing pain in her bottom and the strain of her muscles against Candace’s unbreakable hold.

“Please stop!” she finally yelped, and to her surprise, she did.  Harper lay there panting, eyes shut tight as she tried to catch her breath.  Above her, Candace began talking again.  “This isn’t how I thought my day was going to go either, Harper.  But here we are now.  Do you think I like having to do this?  You don’t think it would have been easier to just turn you over to Jessie?”

Harper’s mood had shifted dramatically after the rapid fire spanking.  She felt her mouth turn down into a pout, and she buried her face into the couch instead of responding.  Candace continued lecturing, “I don’t want to be in charge.  But I’m not going to stand by and watch you pick up such a nasty habit.  How long have you been sneaking around with them, anyway?”

The younger woman groaned instead of answering, and Candace brought the brush down once on her left cheek.  “Ow!  Not long!  Like a month! That’s the first pack I’ve ever bought!”

“You’ve been smoking for a month without buying cigarettes?” asked Candace sharply, and if her legs hadn’t been pinned, Harper might actually have kicked herself.  “I mean a week,” she said quickly, but Candace wasn’t buying it.  She rubbed the back of the brush against Harper’s hot bottom as a warning, saying “Where have you been getting cigarettes, Harper Adele?”

Harper groaned into the couch cushions again.  She really, really did not want to answer this question.  She also really, really did not want to be spanked any more.  If it had been Jessie, her lips would have been sealed (until Jessie unsealed them, a mean voice in the back of her mind said, which she pointedly ignored). What was Candace going to do about it anyway, honestly?  She felt the brush lift from her bottom and her decision was made. “Jade!”

She could practically see the eyeroll that accompanied the sigh of “Of course it was Jade.”  All three of them were close, and Candace knew Jade almost as well as she knew Harper.

Candace readjust her grip, and Harper knew the spanking wasn’t over anyway, and she stopped worrying about Jade– her own ass was in the line of fire right now and Jade could worry about herself when and if the time came!

“You gonna touch another cigarette in the near future?  Or do I have to tell Jessie about this later?” Candace asked.  “Don’t tell Jessie!  I won’t smoke again.  I promise.”  Harper was positive Jessie would spank her again, without a second thought to whatever damage Candace had done back there.  And the idea of telling her that Candace had spanked her made Harper squirm with embarrassment.

“Okay, then we’re almost finished,” and the brush was falling again before she’d even completed her sentence, and Harper could barely hear the rest of what she said over the sound of her own yells and the steady thwack of the brush.  “You ever tell me to fuck off again and I’m going to make this feel like amateur hour.  I’m serious.  This is minor league compared to what I’ll do to you.  Tu comprende?”

“I comprende, I comprende!” said Harper, and as suddenly as it had started, the spanking was over.  Candace pulled the girl’s underwear up and released her, and Harper jumped up immediately, kicking off her sweatpants and hopping from foot to foot as she rubbed her bottom, allowing herself to be undignified in a way she never would in front of Jessie.  She glared at Candace’s completely unapologetic face; it was a mark of how close the were that Candace’s response to a look that would wither most people was to open her arms wide.

Her scowl shifted from withering to pouty, and she dove back onto the couch, curling up against the other woman pitifully.  “That was really mean,” she said.

“I know,” Candace replied.  “You weren’t being so nice yourself, you know.”

“I know,” Harper said guiltily.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Candace said, squeezing her tightly.  “I’d say we’re even now.”

Harper didn’t answer, but she squeezed her a little tighter, too.

Helmets Not Optional

Standard

Lisa dropped her purse on the counter and headed to the fridge, while Jessie made herself comfortable at the kitchen island. “I wish a water main break would shut down our offices,” she said as she watched Lisa put together a couple of gin and tonics. It was fast approaching fall, but it was still hot in the early afternoon hours. Lisa had called when she’d found out she’d be working a half day, and Jessie, who only worked until noon on Fridays, immediately agreed to meet at Jessie’s house for an afternoon of porch sitting.

Lisa smiled, handing her friend an icy drink and heading outside. “The kids always think they are the most excited, but I swear someone popped a bottle of champagne in the teacher’s lounge. It’s amazing what a few unexpected hours of freedom will do for one’s mood.” Jessie had followed, and now the women made themselves comfortable in the two big rocking chairs that dominated the front porch.

There was a cool breeze to temper the afternoon sun, and they were content after a few minutes to sit in silence with each other, sipping their drinks and listening to the birds chattering. It was the kind of peace that didn’t need commenting on, until-

“What the hell was that?” Jessie asked, opening her momentarily closed eyes at the sudden deafening noise of an engine, one which was already fading again. Lisa looked irate, as she gestured at the road. “Some jackass on a motorcycle who doesn’t understand that this is a neighborhood, not a highway.”

They both grumbled a moment, but it wasn’t enough to spoil their peace. When the rumble grew close again, though, they both perked up much earlier, two sets of eyes peering down the street at the rapidly approaching bike. When it blew by this time, both women sat frozen, Lisa with her glass halfway to her mouth, which hung open. Jessie’s lips formed a hard line and her eyes looked like they might bulge out of their sockets. Lisa found her voice and said with obvious disbelief, “Was that…?”

“Yes,” came Lisa’s terse response. She stood, hands on her hips, still glowering at the now empty road. “And without helmets. I’m gonna kill her.”

Lisa knew the her to which Jessie referred was Harper, whose dark locks had been unmistakeable on the back of the motorcycle. Lisa stood now, too, thinking a similar threat about the short haired woman who had been driving. She felt her position mirror that of her friend’s, and it was a very different silence now as they waited for the bike to make its third pass.

When it did, there was no mistaking that the two joyriders had spotted the women on the porch. The red of two small brake lights appeared immediately, though they were much too far past the house to stop.  They watched the bike slow and take an early right turn, making its way around the block. It took several minutes. Jessie was sure there had been a fierce discussion about whether to come back at all, and was glad this time for the putter of the engine as it neared the house once again.  They hadn’t even stopped before Jessie was off the porch, marching furiously toward the bike and its nervous riders.

Harper took in the look on Jessie’s face moments before she reached them, and immediately panicked, scrambling backwards off her seat as she yelled “Jessie don’t!”

It was too late. Jessie easily moved around the bike and the moment Harper’s sneakers hit the pavement, she was bent forcibly back over the leather seat, and Jessie’s hand was coming down hard and fast on the seat of her jeans.  Jade felt the color drain out of her face as she automatically held her stance, keeping the bike steady. It felt like a betrayal to her hapless friend, but she didn’t know was else to do. Her heart was pounding as she tried to tune out the very public spanking that was happening inches behind her. She risked a glance toward the house and toward Lisa, half-terrified that it was about to be her turn over the motorcycle.  Lisa was still on the porch, but Jade didn’t have time to be thankful.  She felt the balance of weight shift again and she adjusted automatically, and then the sharp “off, now.”

The second the bike was steady, there was a sharp pain in her right ear, and she found herself being dragged across the lawn.  A small part of her brain registered a flustered sob from a few feet away, from poor Harper who was held captive by her left ear on Jessie’s other side. She was released at the porch steps, where Lisa looked especially intimidating as she towered above her.  She took a quick step away from Jessie, looking at the ground and rubbing her ear furiously. A quick glance upward revealed Harper’s flaming red face, freckles hidden in her furious blush.

“I am so sorry to be leaving in such a rush,” Jessie said, and Lisa shrugged and smiled humorlessly back at her. “Call me tomorrow?” Jessie nodded, shot a quick glare in Jade’s direction, and turn toward the driveway.  To Jade’s surprise, Harper didn’t glance back at all.  She moved in close to Jessie, who wrapped her arm around the mortified girl.  Jade found this surprising. She was mad at Jessie for embarassing her friend like that. But Harper didn’t seem angry.

“Natalie Jade,” came Lisa’s voice, and she was snapped out of her contemplation, “what do you have to say for yourself?”  Jade mumbled something unintelligible.  Lisa was not lowering her voice in the slightest, and while it may not be as bad as finding oneself bent over a motorcycle and spanked on the street, being lectured like a 15-year-old in the front yard came with its fair share of embarrassment. “Speak up,” Lisa prompted.

“I didn’t think you’d be home,” she said, digging the toe of her right sneaker into the grass at her feet, dislodging a late blooming  dandelion.

Apparently, this inadequate answer used the last of Lisa’s patience. She turned, gathered the glasses from earlier, and stormed into the house. Jade hesitated only a moment before scrambling up herself, half afraid that if she didn’t, she’d be dragged again by her ear. Once had been plenty.

As she closed the door, she heard Lisa’s voice from the kitchen, above the clutter of dishes being moved around in the sink. “Corner!”  Jade had never been sent to the corner before, but she didn’t ask for further explanation. She glanced toward her room, then of the living room, unsure which Jessie wanted. It was still fairly early, and the blinds were open in the living room.  Jade dashed toward her bedroom, shoving some dirty clothes out of a mostly empty corner and standing there, placing her hands awkwardly on her head, then crossing them, then finally settling with them neatly clasped behind her back.

When she heard Lisa enter the room close to 10 minutes later, she looked over automatically. Seeing the brush in her hand, Jade immediately turned, jamming her backside into the corner where she had been standing, hands out defensively as she said “you don’t need that!”

Lisa didn’t bother answering her. She went over to the bed and made herself comfortable, sitting by the pillows and leaning against the backboard, legs straight in front of her. “Get over here.”  Jade couldn’t help but glance at the bedroom door, but she did it she was told. As soon as she was in reach of the bed, Jesse reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her close enough that she could lean over and undo the button of Jade’s jeans.  She left them up, for now, and pulled Jade across her lap. She took a moment to make sure the girl was settled, and then began to spank her with her hand on the seat of her jeans.

“I should not have to tell you that a helmet is required when you are riding that thing! You are an adult woman, with a brain that works just fine.  So you better start using it!” Even through her jeans, Lisa’s hand was stingy, and she didn’t neglect Jade’s sit spots or the tops of her thighs.   She paused her lecture only to pick up the brush, which she began to apply with just as much vigor. “And what on earth were you doing joy riding around the neighborhood? There are plenty of country roads and more than enough highways around here for you to go play on.”

The use of the hairbrush had Jade wiggling a little now, but she managed to say “I didn’t want to take Harper on the highway!”   She would have said anything to pause the onslaught. She could handle the brush over denim, but her brain was in overdrive thinking about the next logical step in this spanking. She was terrified.

As if reading her thoughts, Lisa set the brush down and grabbed the waist of Jade’s pants, tugging them down well below her bottom. The younger woman wore black and red boy cut underwear, under which peeked a dark blush of pink.  “Oh,” said Jessie as she began spanking Jade again with her hand, “so now you’re concerned about Harper’s safety? I am not sure if that girl has ever been on a motorcycle, and she should know better herself, but it’s your machine and you were driving the thing. It is your responsibility to make sure that she is wearing a helmet, too.”

“I’m sorry!” Jade wailed. She wasn’t sure why she kept talking. Everything she said just got her in more trouble.  “Lisaaaa, nooo,” she whined minutes later as the other woman yanked Jade’s underwear down. Jade felt the cool  wood of the hairbrush against her hot bare skin and kicked her legs into the bed.  “No, no, no!” Lisa merely wrapped her free arm around the younger woman’s waist.  “My patience for temper-tantrums is low on a good day, little girl.  Take a guess at how much patience I have for you today?” And then the brush was falling, interrupting Jade’s groan of frustration.

Her feet began to kick again immediately, but not the big dramatic show from before.  Now her legs made small, desperate movements, which matched the small desperate noises she was making.  Lisa didn’t stop until Jade was out of breath and her bottom was swollen and red.  When Jessie was finished, it was usually abrupt.  This time was no exception.  “C’mere,” she said as she set the brush down.

Jade scrambled up, laying on her side and throwing her arms around her mentor and best friend, not caring that her pants and undies were still around her knees.  She clung to her as Lisa ran her fingers through her hair and occasionally planted kisses on the top of her head.  When Jade had calmed down, Lisa looked down and tipped the girl’s chin upward. “Never again.  Or you will sell that bike and I will spank you every day it’s on the market.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jade gulped. She buried her face again, and reached a hand down tentatively to rub her sore bottom. At least at this moment, she wasn’t sure she’d ever want to sit on a motorcycle again!

The Dent

Standard

Danny pulled into the driveway of the small split-level home he shared with his girlfriend, Emma.  Instead of shutting off the engine, though, he put the car into reverse and backed up slowly, until the rear of his car was almost in the road again.  He put the car in park.  He let his hands rest on the dash as he leaned forward.  He stared at the blue Pontiac by which he had been briefly parked.

The back driver side bumper had a soccer ball sized dent in it now, one which certainly hadn’t been there this morning when he’d left for work.  One which shouldn’t be there now, because a certain girlfriend of his was supposed to be grounded.

He slowly pulled back up, this time parking as usual and stepping out of his own car.  He walked casually back around, surveying the damage closely.  Cosmetic, he decided.  That was good.  His girl wasn’t hurt.  He figured as much.  He was certain he would have gotten a phone call.  Danny felt his face harden as he slipped his hands into his pockets and circled the blue car, checking for any other damage.  He should have gotten a phone call regardless.

Satisfied that he had gleaned all he could from the car, he grabbed his briefcase from the backseat of his own vehicle and headed toward the front door.  He set his briefcase and keys on the kitchen table, and walked back toward their bedroom, loosening his tie on the way.  His steps into the room were slow and deliberate.  He paused by the bed, turned, sat, and waited.

It took almost four minutes of silence before he heard a soft voice from underneath the bed.  “Are you mad at me?”

He wondered briefly how long she’d been there this time, feeling guilty as she listened for the jangle of his keys in the door.  Not too long, he hoped.  She hated to feel like he was upset with her.  Especially when she deserved it.  “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart.  But you better believe that I’m not happy.  Come out here and talk to me.”

“I can’t!” she said emphatically, and he heard her scoot farther back, away from the edge of the bed.  His mouth became a hard straight line, and he decided immediately that he would not be as patient with her nervousness as he usually was.  “One,” he said sternly, and he both heard and felt her scramble beneath him.

“Danny don’t!!!”

“Two,” he said, unaffected by her pitiful cry.  He watched as her hands appeared, flung outward to lay flat on floor as she pulled herself out from under the bed, sliding ungracefully across the wood.  “Three,” he said as she began to stand, and suddenly she was being hauled across his lap as she yelled “Danny wait!”  He kept her flailing hands at bay with his right hand as he began to spank her with his left, putting plenty of force behind it as swats landed one after another on her dark blue jean shorts.  “Danny, please!”

He stopped as abruptly as he’d started, pulling her up and sliding her over to stand directly in front of him.  Her hands went immediately to her backside, but he raised his eyebrows at her and she jerked them forward again as if her hot bottom had burned her fingertips.  She let her hands linger at her sides, clearly desperate to rub the sting away but smart enough not to.  She shifted her weight from foot to foot as she waited for him to speak.  He looked so serene that it was almost out of place, even in his professional clothing: his tie loose, his shirt collar unbuttoned, his posture relaxed as he leaned forward and rested his hands on his thighs.

“Explain.”

Emma’s eyes welled with tears that she rapidly and unsuccessfully tried to blink away.  “I can’t,” she finally whispered.

Danny’s face looked briefly surprised, but his next words felt almost like a dare.  “You can’t?”

“I don’t… there isn’t a good explanation.”

“Explain it anyway.”

She rung her hands and looked at him pleadingly, but she received only his cool gaze looking back at her.  She could practically see the clock counting down behind his brown eyes.  He wouldn’t wait forever, and her bottom already hurt from the brief but harsh spanking a moment ago.  Finally she managed, “I had to return some books to the library.”

It hadn’t been enough.  His arm snaked out to grab hers and once again she found herself upended, his hard hand landing on her already pink bottom.  She shrieked as he spanked her, but he was immune to her cries.  When he finished this time, she was breathing heavily, and he didn’t let her up.  Instead he rested his dominant hand on her throbbing bottom and his right hand casually across her back, fingers dangling alongside her waist.  “You seem to be having a lot of trouble recalling some of the details of your afternoon, Emma Grace, so I am going to help you get through this explanation.  But it is going to cost you.”

He reached beneath her, fumbling at the button of her jeans for just a moment before freeing it, and then her, of their trappings.  She shifted her body and helped as best she could, though she dreaded the loss of the thick denim.  She tried not to protest as her underwear followed, but a small moan of embarrassment escaped her.  Danny returned his arms to their previous spots; he let his left hand glide gently across her hot bottom now, a tender gesture that happened absentmindedly when he held her in this position.

“Are you supposed to leave the house today?”

“No sir,” she replied miserably.

“Because?”

“Because I’m grounded.”

“Because…?”

She shut her eyes at this question.  She hated being grounded, hated having to talk about it, and especially hated having to go over it again after the lecture she had already received.  She knew better than to push her luck, though, and despite the redoubled throb of her bottom, Danny had been right– she found it easier to speak in this position.  “I’m grounded because I volunteered to take extra shifts at work when I already had a busy week scheduled and because I haven’t been getting enough sleep as it is.”

He nodded thoughtfully above her head, though she couldn’t see it.  “So there is no confusion about how today should have gone, Emma?”  She sighed miserably.  “No sir.  I just didn’t think.  I had some books that were due and I just jumped in the car.  I realized it before I even buckled my seat belt.  But then…”

Danny could hear the shame of her decision to disobey him pouring out of her, and he knew that tears were making their ways down her pretty cheeks, even if he couldn’t see them.  He gave her bottom an unsympathetic squeeze.  “Keep going.”

“It’s just a few minutes away…” she began, and he felt the slight offer of an excuse.  His hand on her bottom stilled, and then lifted.  She tensed and yelled “it wasn’t a good reason it wasn’t a good reason it wasn’t–” and then the spanking had resumed, and his hand was bouncing, thudding rapidly, delivering hard swats that propelled her small body forward upon every impact.  He didn’t scold her.  He didn’t need to.  His hand did all the talking, at least until he stopped spanking and moved her legs, letting her body slide down so she was kneeling between his knees.  She let her hands dance around her swollen backside but didn’t touch it this time.  She kept herself from resting on the heels of her feet; her thighs hurt with the exertion after only a minute, but it was better than letting her bottom come in contact with anything right this moment.

Danny took her chin, brushing some wayward tears away with his thumb.  “In a few minutes, you are going to walk over there and get the hairbrush from your dresser drawer.”  He let that sink in for a moment, watching her eyes squeeze shut and reopen.  “First, I want to know about the dent.”  She took a shuddering breath and looked up at him, eyes round and fearful and innocent.

“It happened while I was in the library.  It was only for a few minutes, but a man was walking to the car beside mine when I got there.  I think he hit it.  It was a blue truck.  I don’t remember the model.  They have security cameras and the police are going to be in touch later.  I left my contact information.”

For the first time since he’d gotten home, Dan smiled.  And even with her sore fanny, her wet cheeks, and the promise of more to come, his smile made Emma smile.  “Good girl,” he said.  “Very good.  Those are all the right steps.”  He leaned down to kiss her forehead, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.  She used to balk when he praised her for doing normal adult things on her own– “Everyone has to deal with this stuff, Danny.  You don’t get a reward for being a grown-up.  You just do it.” — but after a particularly harrowing afternoon at the DMV of all places, he’d finally gotten her to see that he wasn’t being condescending.  He pointed to several people they’d watched struggle through the tedium of license renewals and car registrations and tax forms.  “Look, sweetheart… she deserves a cheerleader.  So does he.  So does that guy.  So does that woman running customer service.”  She’d leaned against him, listening to his quiet voice amid the crowd.  “We all have to do it, yes, but it’s a daily miracle that we get through it.  So let me be proud of you.  Okay?”

Now, he leaned back, untangled her arms, and raised his eyebrows expectantly.  She closed her eyes for a brief second, then stood, stepping out of her underwear and walking past the shorts she had long since kicked off, to grab the wooden hairbrush from its spot in her dresser.  She brought it back quickly, eyes downcast, and held it to out Danny.  He let her stand there for a minute as he unbuttoned the cuff of his sleeve, rolling it up slowly.  Then he took the brush with his left hand and took her wrist with his right, pulling her across one knee, letting her torso rest on the bed while her legs draped around his thigh.  She immediately grabbed the comforter, thinking briefly that it was more aptly name that most people realized.  She felt his arms encircle her waist and then a blaze of pain erupted on her right sit-spot.  Emma screamed, but the next swat was just as hard and in the exact same spot.  Next came two on her left sit-spot.  Repeat.  Repeat again.  At the twelfth spank, she heard him toss the brush on the bed, and finally she was pulled up into his arms.

The rest of the evening passed with forehead kisses, back rubs, and the occasional squeak whenever Emma’s backside happened to make contact with anything.  She felt better, though.  Better than she had since the moment she’d heard the click of her seat belt, better than the entire short-lived disaster of an errand, better than the time she’d spent worried and nervous under the bed.  Everything was okay now, and though she would never say it aloud, a sore bottom seemed a small price to pay for this sort of happiness.