Tag Archives: spanking

The Whipping Girl

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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.