Tag Archives: 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.

 

 

 

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Pool Party

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Tonight was perfect.

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Whipping Girl

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More you say?  Check out Dramatic Interlude!

Those Pesky Laser Pointers

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This is is the closest thing to fanfiction I’ve ever written and I’m simultaneously delighted and mortified to be publishing it. It’s just a drabble, but I hope you enjoy it!

“No one even knew it was me!”

“I don’t. care. You are the Vice President. You know better.”

“It was funny!”

“It was juvenile.”

“You just don’t like that you aren’t the only funny person in the White House.”

“And you can just spend some time in the corner thinking about your behavior when we get to my office.”

“Good thing we’re headed to the Oval Office,” the VP said smugly.

The President stopped abruptly, and there was sudden quiet as the ever-present security surrounding them stopped as well. “You’re right,” he said as he leveled a glare as his mischievous best friend, “we’ll skip the corner.”

“Wait, I didn’t mean that!” he said, scrambling with the rest of their entourage to catch up as the president began walking briskly again. A few of the guards glanced in his direction; usually the two men were able to have private conversations even amid the chaos, as long as they spoke in low voices. The expressions of the Secret Service would have been curious as they reached the Oval Office had they not been been trained to keep their feelings off their faces.

The President opened the door, keeping his hand on the handle as it swung inward, inviting his Vice President to walk ahead and into the empty office. A frown firmly in place, the VP did so, albeit hesitantly. The first of the team guarding the men began to step forward, but the president stopped her with his free hand and said simply, “We need a few minutes.”

She nodded, stepping back and assuming standard position outside the door as it closed, as did the rest of the team. It was generally frowned upon to leave the POTUS and VPOTUS alone within any room, even for a moment, but it had been established early on in this administration that these “talks” between the President and Vice President were going to happen from time to time. Like her partner, who flanked the other side of the door, she kept her face impassive as they heard the muffled sound of the president’s voice. They knew what sounds would come next, though they would never discuss it. When you were part of the Secret Service, it came with the territory.

~  ~  ~

Several minutes later, the doors opened again, and the two guards at the entrance moved deftly inside, taking up their positions silently. They avoided the eyes of the Vice President, which they knew would be red and watery. They always were after this sort of meeting. They also pretended not to notice that he was avoiding sitting, even on the softest straight back chair, or that the the president reached to touch the other man’s arm without even thinking about it on his way back to the desk.

The lead guard felt an unbidden grin tug at her face and she schooled her features. Nothing to smile about here. Just a secret to keep for her beloved President and VP.

With Big Brother’s Approval

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Ben couldn’t stay still.  He sat on the couch.  He stood up again.  He sat on the loveseat.  He stood up again.  He sat at the dining room table.  He almost stood up again.  He heard keys in the door.  He froze.

Oliver walked in, oblivious to his boyfriend’s severe case of jitters.  He walked over to kiss Ben on the cheek, then headed straight for the fridge.  “Hey, babe.  How was your day?” he said, pulling a bottle of water out and going to join Ben at the table.  He finally looked at his boyfriend’s face as he sat down, and immediately his own face reflected concern.  “Hey hey, what’s wrong?”

“I did something really dumb, Ollie.”  Oliver’s eyebrows knit together.  Ben only ever called him “Ollie” when he felt scared or guilty.  “What’d you do, honey?”

“I forgot about a big project.  Like, really big.  For microeconomics.  It counts for a lot.  I don’t know how I forgot.  It just slipped my mind.”

Oliver, at 24, had graduated not long ago.  He gave his 22 year old boyfriend an appraising look, then asked “Was it in your planner?”

Benjamin bit his lip, glancing up and back down. “No.”  Oliver rolled his eyes in frustration- this had been an ongoing point of contention- then said, “Okay, well did you talk to your professor after class?”

Again Ben could barely bring himself to glance upward before he replied with another quiet “no.”  Oliver sighed, then said “okay, well have you called Dan?  He’ll tell you what to do.  He can’t fix it, but he can tell you the best way to approach your professor.”

Ben’s usually tan complexion visibly paled.  “I cannot tell Danny.”

Oliver’s eyebrows shot up at that.  “Your brother is a professor.  You are absolutely going to call him and see what he has to say.”

“I can’t, Ollie!” Ben cried, looking up.  “He’ll murder me.”

Oliver rolled his eyes again.  “You’re being dramatic.”

“You don’t know him.  He’d probably show up here after a phone call like that.”  Ben’s lip was between his teeth again, and Oliver watched as the young man shifted uncomfortably in his chair.  He’d noticed this before, other times when Ben felt guilty, or even occasionally when he was actually on the phone with Danny, though Oliver could never hear what was being said on the other end of the line.  Oliver had never met Ben’s older brother, but he’d heard plenty about him and “met” him through video chat.  His curiosity made him push.

“Let’s say Dan does catch a red-eye.  Let’s say he shows up tomorrow morning.  Then what?”

Ben shifted again and stared at the floor.  “Just nothing.  Forget it.”

Oliver wasn’t dumb; he had his suspicions.  He reached over and tilted Ben’s face up, forcing him to make eye contact.  “I will not.  What would Danny do, Benjamin?”

A pout began to take over Ben’s expression as he pulled his face away, staring silently off toward the living room, refusing to speak.  Oliver moved his hands to his boyfriend’s knees, deciding to take Ben’s silence as affirmation and making the leap.  “I know what I would do if my little sister called me, young man.”

Ben crossed his arms over his chest, risking a quick look at his boyfriend’s face before glaring defiantly back away.  It wasn’t that he’d never heard a note of authority in Oliver’s voice before, but this wasn’t a note- it was the whole damn orchestra.  His stomach was in knots as Oliver continued.  “What I would do, and what I have done, is make sure she had a hard time sitting comfortably for the next evening or two.  I would give her a solid reminder about why we have rules- for instance, why I made you buy a planner- as well as a good incentive to pay attention to them next time.  And I think,” and he turned Ben’s face toward him again, “that your big brother would do the same for you.  Am I right?” he asked, not unkindly.

Ben left his face in Oliver’s hand but his eyes were downcast as he whined, “Ollie…”

“Am I right?” he asked, more firmly.

Ben took a deep breath and then nodded, turning his wide blue eyes up to meet Oliver’s dark black ones.  Oliver nodded his head slowly and thoughtfully, reminding Ben so much of his brother that he automatically rolled his eyes.  That was a mistake.  Oliver’s eyebrows shot up immediately and Ben could practically see him make a decision.  Too late, he tried to stop the clear path they were on.  “Ollie don’t!  I’ll call Danny!  I’ll ask him what to do!”

Oliver, in the meantime, stood and moved his chair a bit away from the dining room table.  “Oh you’ll call Dan, alright.  You’ll call him as soon as I’ve finished giving you your spanking.”  Ben cringed at the word, but Oliver seemed unfazed as he held out his hand, palm up.  His boyfriend looked up, desperation written all over his face, but Oliver kept his expression expectant and after a minute, Ben reached out and gave him his hand.  Oliver held him for a beat, making sure that the pride he felt at his boyfriend’s acceptance was written on his own face, then gently tugged him up.  He took a seat, and though Ben seemed ready to dive across his lap, he stopped him.  “I don’t think so, sweetheart,” he said, guiding the younger man by his hips until he was standing in front of the chair.  Oliver began to undo the button on his boyfriend’s shorts, and soon they were in a puddle on the floor, one which Ben compliantly stepped out of, his cheeks blazing with embarrassment but his actions resigned.

Seconds later, Ben was across Oliver’s lap, feeling his boyfriend readjust his position to his satisfaction.  Oliver smoothed the cloth of Ben’s blue checkered boxers, then wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s lanky frame.  He rested his right hand on the boy’s backside, just for a moment, as he contemplated his next move.  This felt right.  He’d always had a dominant streak, and it was something that worked well in their relationship.  Spanking and discipline seemed the next logical addition, at least to him.  He knew Ben agreed, or he wouldn’t be here now.  Benjamin wasn’t weak-willed by any stretch of the imagination.  He wanted this, too.

No, the real question in Oliver’s mind was not whether this was okay, but how to go about it.  He thought briefly about Dan, wondering if he should do his best to imitate the disciplinary experiences Ben had had so far.  He just as quickly discarded the idea.  They would figure the details out later, but trying to imitate Danny would just be setting himself up for failure.  Oliver hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d mentioned his little sister… sisters, actually.  He had two, both younger, and while their parents were attentive and present in their lives, they had also allowed their children to get away with anything and everything.  Oliver had the fortune (though he wouldn’t have called it that at the time) of experiencing firm guidance at the hands of his grandparents, immigrants who were as strict as they were loving.  They had passed away before his sisters were old enough to remember them.

But he remembered their lessons well, and assuming responsibility for his little sisters’ discipline had come as naturally as… well… as naturally as having his boyfriend across his lap now.  As that realization landed, he let go of the last of his hesitations.  He lifted his right hand and brought it forcefully down on Ben’s boxer-clad backside.  He did so again.  He quickly found himself getting into the familiar rhythm of spanking, alternating cheeks and thoroughly warming up his boyfriend’s bottom before pausing to gently tug his underwear down below his knees.  He was pleased at Ben’s compliance, and paused to rub his back and freshly bared rear end.  A moment later, though, he hugged his boyfriend’s body close and resumed spanking him, this time accompanying his swats with a lecture.

“We have talked about writing everything down, Ben.  Everything.  You have a million things going on, and it would be ridiculous to expect you to remember every project and date.  But that is why we got you a planner.  That is why I got you a planner, actually.  Which I expect you to use.  Because mistakes like this?  They are 100% avoidable.  So I expect you to avoid them.  Is that clear?”

Ben had begun to grunt and wiggle, particularly when Oliver used harder swats to emphasize some of the points he was making.  “Yes sir!” he said, sucking in his breath, struggling to keep his hands out of the way.  Just as his left foot kicked out, the spanking stopped.  Ben felt Oliver’s hand run up and down his back, and wondered if it was over.  His breath came out in a low moan when a second later he heard “Stand up for a minute, little one.”  He blushed hard at the moniker, standing and immediately covering himself as he felt his underwear drop from their perch on his knees to the floor.

Oliver walked into the kitchen, shuffled briefly through one of the drawers, and returned with a thick wooden spoon which made Ben immediately begin chewing his lower lip again.  He didn’t argue, though.  As sore as his bottom already was, he knew he’d earned more than a hand spanking for this.  Oliver had gone out of his way to help keep him organized, and Benjamin had ignored his advice one too many times.  He lay quickly back across his boyfriend’s lap when asked to do so.  He felt the smooth wood resting on his hot backside and then the sharp sting of it coming down, immediately resuming the same rhythm that Oliver’s hand had been in.

Ben’s feet kicked and little yelps escaped from his mouth, though he tried to stay still.  Danny tended to use implements to drive a point home at the end of a spanking, using the wood to make sure a lesson stuck around for a day or two.  Oliver wasn’t putting all of his strength behind these swats but they were so stingy and so fast that Ben couldn’t think about anything except how much it hurt.

He was breathing heavily when the spanking finally stopped, and gratefully clambered onto his boyfriend’s lap when he felt himself being tugged up.  Danny offered him plenty of comfort after a spanking, but he found himself reacting differently in the arms of his boyfriend.  He clung to him, arms wrapped around his neck and face buried in his shoulder as Oliver held him tightly in their awkward spot on the dining room chair.  A few minutes later, Ben unwound himself and looked expectantly into his boyfriend’s face, waiting for his next command.  Oliver reached a hand behind Ben’s neck and pulled him forward, kissing him, then slid his hand down to pat the boy’s bottom gently.  “Time for you to make a phone call, cariño.”

Ben let his face fall into a pout, and Oliver couldn’t help but to let himself be delighted in it.  He found this side of Ben so charming and sweet that he almost regretted not having discovered it earlier.  He smiled, but made to stand, which forced his boyfriend up as well.  He watched the younger man pick up his boxers and slip them on, grinning even more broadly at the grimace on the poor boy’s face.  He went into the kitchen with the spoon, intending to wash it.  He cocked his head as he changed his mind, decided instead to place it in their bedroom.  He had a feeling this would not be the last time it would be repurposed.

After pulling his underwear up, Ben made his way into the living room, seeking the comfort of their big white couch.  He pulled a floral cushion onto his lap, then fiddled with his phone until he heard Oliver re-enter the living room.  He couldn’t help glancing up one last pleading time, but Oliver just raised his eyebrows expectantly.  Ben sighed and hit the video call button on his phone.  He tried not to look unhappy when his brother answered after just a few seconds, smiling from behind his office desk.  “Hey kiddo!  What’s up?  How are you?”

Ben smiled back; he couldn’t help it.  He loved his brother.  “I’m great!  Things are good.  Really good,” he said, before hearing the distinct sound of his boyfriend clearing his throat across the room.  He gulped and frowned, then said hesitantly, “well mostly good.”  He could see the concern wash over his brother’s face as Dan stopped shuffling papers and gave Ben his full attention.  “Hey, what’s going on?  Are you okay?”  Ben’s face went an even deeper shade of red as he stammered, “I’m fine.  Oliver’s fine.  I just… I have this little… not little… I have this thing at school…”

When he finally got through his explanation, his brother was eyeing him sternly.  He had to resist the urge to move his face away from the screen.  He could see Danny working himself up into full lecture mode, and he looked desperately over at Oliver, who looked back unsympathetically.  He didn’t want to be in trouble twice!  His boyfriend merely pointed at the phone in his hand.  Ben rolled his eyes, then remembered that he was face to face with Daniel, whose eyes looked ready to bulge out of his head. “No!  Danny no, I wasn’t rolling my eyes at you!!!” he nearly yelled.  “Oliver’s just…” and he groaned in frustration.  He made his eyes wide and tried to convey everything he wanted Dan to know in a look, but his big brother just stared back, waiting for an explanation.

Benjamin spared a quick glare in his boyfriend’s direction; Oliver was flat out grinning, amused by his boyfriend’s squirming.  Ben took a deep breath and then said quietly to the camera, “I already got in trouble.”

“You what?  At school?”

“Noooo… at home.  With Oliver.”  Ben didn’t know how he got the words out; he had never been so embarrassed in his life.  Danny scrutinized him a moment, then understanding dawned on his face.  “Ohhh, I see.  Oliver spanked you?” he asked, as if he were asking about a trip to the grocery store.  Benjamin nodded, then mumbled “yessir” when it became apparent that Dan wanted a verbal affirmation.  His brother nodded at this information, then said shortly, “good.”

From his spot in the love seat nearby, Oliver let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.  He was glad to hear the approval in Daniel’s voice.  He liked the man, a lot, and knew how much his boyfriend adored him.  He was also pleased to hear Dan move on immediately to advice and potential solutions to Oliver’s school issues.  No more scolding or fussing.  He felt very validated.  As the conversation wrapped up some thirty minutes later, the boys having moved on to other topics, Ben summoned him over with an open arm to say hello, having seemingly forgotten about any awkwardness from earlier.  Oliver hadn’t, though he tried his best to be nonchalant as he sat on the couch next to his boyfriend and smiled at Danny.

Daniel gave him an appraising look through, one so brief that he wouldn’t have caught it if he wasn’t looking.  Then a nod- Ben was right, the man nodded at everything- and a smile, and the conversation continued as normal.  Oliver relaxed into his boyfriend’s embrace, happy to be exactly where he was.

Party Foul

Standard

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

~~~

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

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

~~~

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

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

“I thought you couldn’t go…”

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

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

~~~

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

“Wanna drink?”

“Mmm… nah. I have one, thanks.”

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

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

“Wanna dance?”

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

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

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

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

~~~

“Hey girl… where’s Harp?”

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

~~~

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Candace,” Jessie said sharply.

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

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

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

“Two weeks ago?”

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

“Oh yeah.  Yes.  I remember.”

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

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

“The window in the den.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes ma’am,” Candace said miserably.

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

SMACK

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you don’t–”

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

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

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

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

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

SMACK

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Temper Tantrum

Standard

“Give it BACK!”

Shayla stopped at these words, one hand on the knob of the bedroom door, and took a deep breath… then one more, for good measure. She turned around slowly to look at her girlfriend, the one who had yelled this demand, the one who was still standing in the corner but not facing it like she was supposed to be. Oh no, instead she was standing with her arms crossed, shoulders back, and a mutinous look on her face.

“Jaynie…” Shayla said, her voice low and full of warning.

“It’s my phone,” Jaynie said, her brow furrowing even more, her mouth in a hard line. Shayla had to resist the urge to let her mouth drop open. This was out of character for Jaynie, even on her naughtiest days. She slowly crossed her arms as she contemplated the situation, staring right back into the face of her rebellious girl. She’d thought she was being generous with corner time and a few warning swats. She’d thought it was reasonable to confiscate the phone for the evening, after Jaynie threw it across the room in frustration when a picture wasn’t loading fast enough for her. She’d thought it was going to be a quiet night.

Well well. Plans had changed.

What she wanted to do was grab Jaynie by the arm and start spanking. Instead she brought herself up to her full height, reached into her pocket, and pulled out the phone in question. “Jaynie Michelle, you take a good long look at this phone,” she said, holding it up. “And you start getting used to the idea that you won’t be using it for anything but work until I say otherwise.” As she talked, she opened the top drawer of the dresser beside her, placing the phone inside, her eyes never leaving Jaynie’s. “I’m not going to hide it. I’m not going to keep it on me at all times. I am going to leave it in this drawer, and you will ask me for permission any time you want to check it.” She shut the drawer firmly with one hand, and began to slowly walk toward the corner as she talked. “I don’t know what has gotten into you, young lady, that makes you think it’s okay to behave this way, or to talk to me like that. I do know that you are going to feel very differently by the time we’re finished here.” She kept her steps slow and her voice even, moving closer and closer to Jaynie, who was trying very hard to maintain her defiant posture. Shayla wasn’t falling for it, though. She saw the nervous glance Jaynie cast at the closet where they kept the Mean Paddle. She saw way her fingers clenched and un-clenched around the fabric of her shirt.

“You can’t…” came Jaynie’s voice as she summoned the last of her bravado, but it was too late. Shayla way right next her now, the Look on her girlfriend’s face mere inches from hers as Shayla interrupted her. “Oh, but I can.”

And with that she reached out and grabbed Jaynie’s ear, pulling her toward the bed. Jaynie tried to pulled back, screeching “you’re hurting me!”

“It wouldn’t hurt if you didn’t resist,” came the unsympathetic reply. “You won’t be thinking about your ear for much longer anyway.” With that she plopped down on the bed, putting one leg up and using the other to anchor herself on the floor. In no time, Jaynie was across her lap, her sweatpants a puddle around her ankles as Shayla pulled the girl in closer to her own body and reached for the hem of her underwear. “No no no no no!” yelled Jaynie, reaching back and trying to stop the inevitable. Shayla merely snatched up the girl’s hand along with her panties, pulling both up to the small of Jaynie’s back, leaving the young woman bare cheeked and very uncomfortable. “No!!!” came another useless wail, accompanied by feet kicking the ground hard.

Shayla watched the girl struggle, her eyebrows raised, surprised at the brazenness of the girly over her lap. Jaynie had accepted that she was about to be punished, but she had in no way accepted the punishment itself. That was fine with Shayla. She was more than ready to spank the defiance right out of her bratty girlfriend. She raised her hand and brought it down with a loud crack on the girl’s left cheek, then the right, then again and again and again, without pause. Usually she didn’t start with fast swats, mostly because she liked watching the color grow and her hand prints appear, and then slowly disappear into the reddening canvas. There was nothing fun about this spanking, though. Not for either of them.

A grim smile appeared on her face. Fun, no. Satisfying? Absolutely. She increased the force of her swats as she remembered the phone bouncing off the bed and onto the floor earlier, starting this entire thing. Even that wasn’t entirely true. In all honesty, Jaynie had been snappy and rude since she had gotten home from work that afternoon. Nothing outright– she knew better than that– but certainly uncalled for. As Shayla thought about every eyeroll she’d pretended not to notice, every snide remark she had ignored, she moved her hand down, concentrating on the barely pink crease between Jaynie’s thighs and bottom. The girl’s wiggling increased as Shayla found her target over and over again, letting her palm meld into the shape of Jaynie’s sit spots, spanking them and then even spanking beneath them, purposefully targeting the tops of the woman’s thighs in a way she only ever did during punishment spankings.

Jaynie kicked through the entire thing, once kicking so high that Shayla stopped spanking, but only long enough to bend down and say quietly into her ear, “if you kick me in the face, I will repeat this spanking from beginning to end every night for a week, little girl, so I suggest you get your little feet under control.” In response she got something close to a growl as Jaynie turned her face away and buried it in the blankets. She kept her kicking, lower, though, even if she wasn’t ready to acknowledge her obedience.

By the time Jaynie’s backside and thighs were a uniform dusky dark pink, Shayla’s hand was starting to hurt. Good timing, she thought, as she released the younger woman with the short command to stand. She stood, but Shayla noticed the hard glare still in her eyes as she looked down, and noted that she didn’t reach back to rub her bottom (though she must have wanted to desperately). That was okay with Shayla. It didn’t happen often, but she’d been here with her girlfriend before. It was a marathon, not a sprint. “Get the paddle,” she said firmly, not leaving her spot on the bed. Jaynie stepped out of her pants and walked toward her closet. “The one in my closet,” Shayla said pointedly. She watched her girlfriend hesitate, then do as she was told. Discipline or not, she couldn’t help but appreciate the beautiful glowing rear end as she watched Jaynie walk toward the closet and get the dreaded mean paddle, a slim dark wooden implement they’d stopped using in play early on.

Jaynie held it away from her, like it was a poisonous snake, but brought it back without any fuss. She held it out to her older girlfriend, who didn’t immediately take it. Instead she reached out and swiftly swept Jaynie’s panties down from their high perch, until they were pooled around her ankles. Caught by surprise, Jaynie squeaked and made a very delayed grab for her them, which quickly turned into a useless attempt at covering herself. A blush crept up her chest, and in seconds her face was flaming with embarrassment. Shayla didn’t try to hide her satisfaction as she scolded, “you certainly haven’t been bashful the rest of the afternoon, young lady. I don’t know why you’d start now. You have been acting like a spoiled brat, and brats in this house don’t get any modesty.” And with that she grabbed the paddle with her right hand, then hauled Jaynie back over her lap with her right.

This time she start without much strength behind her swats. She didn’t need it. Even the lightest spanked made Jaynie jump, and soon little squeals were escaping from the girl’s mouth at every swat. Shayla wasn’t after squeals, though. She ignored the pitiful noises and gradually increased the force spanking, letting the paddle speak for her. She knew the sensation was shifting from sharp and stingy to deeply painful; the girl’s bottom was burning brighter with every round of swats. Soon Jaynie was kicking again, but these weren’t the angry rebellious kicks from earlier. No, these she couldn’t help if she tried. Shayla paused long enough to wrap her legs around the young woman’s, hoisting her up so she had full access to every pink bit of her bottom and thighs. She slowed her pace as she began to lecture again, punctuating her words with painful paddle swats.

“We do not throw phones in this house, little girl. You know better. And if you do decide to have yourself a tantrum, then you accept the consequences like a big girl. You earned yourself a few minutes of corner time. You earned it, Jaynie Michelle. And that means you keep your nose pointed at the wall and your mouth shut until you are called out. Instead, you decided to yell at me. You decided that you were going to make the rules. But that is not how things work for you. Maybe you forgot. You won’t be forgetting again soon, though. That is a promise.”

With that she brought the paddle up high, bringing it crashing almost immediately back down on Jaynie’s swollen bottom. The girl might have been able to handle the hard spanking or the scolding, but both together were too much. “I’m sorry” she wailed into the covers, still struggling fruitlessly to escape the brutal swats that kept landing on her bottom and thighs. “I’m sorry, too, but sorry doesn’t cut it,” came Shayla’s heartless reply.

She really wasn’t heartless, but she was determined to make sure they didn’t have a repeat of tonight’s attitude any time soon. If she stopped too early, before Jaynie was really and truly sorry, they’d be here again before the week’s end. And Jaynie would hate every minute of it– not just the spanking, but she would hate the spiteful words that would come from her mouth, hate the mean attitude she’d fling in Shayla’s direction. But she wouldn’t be able to stop it. Oh yes, they had been down this road before.

And so despite the wails that were starting to sound a bit like crying, she kept right on paddling Jaynie’s backside, deliberately hard and deliberately fast, not influenced at all by the bucking girl’s imminent tears as she lay there trapped between Shayla’s legs. “Please baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.” Her cries fell on deaf ears, though. With the skill of an experienced spanker, Caroline shifted her legs, bringing the girl’s bottom up and forcing her little cheeks to spread slightly so that she could spank every single inch of her naughty backside. Soon the apologies and begging stopped, and there was only the sound of spanking and crying in the small bedroom. Shayla finally slowed her hand, completing one last circuit around the very red, very swollen bottom before ending with a dozen swats that were harder than any of the rest. She tossed the paddled aside, using the punishing hand gently now, running her fingers lightly around the edges of the girl’s poor bottom as she let her cry over her lap. Her left hand massaged Jaynie’s back, occasionally running her fingers up through her hair, twining them delicately through the girl’s curls and back out. After a few minutes, she firmly tugged the young woman’s shoulders, and Jaynie slid effortlessly down to the ground, kneeling at her girlfriend’s feet and burying her head in Shayla’s lap, soaking up every comforting touch and caress.

Shayla took one more deep breath as she ran her thumb along Jaynie’s cheek and slipped a hand under her chin, forcing her to look up. “You owe me ten minutes, little one,” she said, not unkindly. Fresh tears filled the big pitiful eyes below her, spilling immediately onto Jaynie’s already wet face. Slowly, wincing, and with a little help from her girlfriend, Jaynie stood, stepping out of her long forgotten underwear and not in the least self-conscious now. She made her way into the corner, arms folded obediently behind her, still sniffling. A few seconds later, Caroline gently wiped her face with a tissue, then planted a kiss on the girl’s temple before leaving her to finish her time.

Ten minutes later… well maybe closer to 8, but Caroline made the rules in the first place, so she could change them if she wanted! Jaynie was called out of the corner. Shayla lay on the bed, arms open and ready, as her girlfriend practically dove on top of her, snuggling in close and burying her face into her girlfriend’s chest. Shayla’s lips found Jaynie’s forehead and rested there, occasionally lifting to whisper soft “I love yous” and “you are such a good girl.” For the most part, though, they were quiet, finding the comfort they both needed.