This was the hardest thing to write. Almost ever. It reminded me of other days when I was writing other stuff and spending hours to squeeze out the story. I know where it was going but I simply was not in the mood to put it on paper. Something came out - the first half a little better than the second - the only reason being that I was so bored my imagination was gone. Anyway, I hope it is not obvious. If I were to keep it two more days and then redraft it and polish it, I would be a little more pleased with it. But then I delayed it long enough. I will polosh it later, for other readers. :) Sorry about that. It's not professional, but hey! It's me, remember?
Actually this suddent lack of interest also happened because I am already writing something else in my mind and I am itching to write that one. :)
He had been right; Her mood swung from rebellious to apprehensive. He had to stop along the road a few times, though, to plant a smack on her bottom, to adjust her attitude and to stop her stomping. She walked fast in front of him, as if trying to lose him behind, but she got slower as the house grew bigger in the distance.
“Are you having second thoughts,” he teased, aware that he was rubbing it in.
“Second thoughts, my ass,” she replied, but sped up in front of him to be out of his reach.
Jack paused for a few moments then smiled. “Well, enjoy your moment. Enjoy it while you can.” On the front steps of the house, he emphasized his statement; he seized her arm and dragged her along, in the same way in which you would march an enraged child to his room.
“Stop it! I can walk by myself. You don’t need to drag me like a dog, thank you. Hey! Stop it, I said.”
“Get your sorry ass inside.” Jack’s tone rose enough to get her legs to melt under her. It had become the tone she knew and feared.
Frowning, he stood aside and watched her get inside.
She dropped her things at the entrance, eyes fixed on the stick.
“It’s my arrow that one,” was the last resistance she opposed, pointing to the stick in Jack’s fist.
He locked the door. The next moment he stood so close to her that she could feel his breath on her forehead. Dominating her with his gaze and his stature, he grabbed her ear.
“Now, do you want to repeat your last sentence? Maybe all the ones you’ve said so far?”
No matter how many times this would happen, she’d always feel small and helpless. The pull on her ear jerked her up on her tiptoes. She shrieked, her hand reaching instinctively for her burning ear.
“Don’t touch,” Jack warned, watching her reactions like a hawk. Her hand withdrew instantly. She closed her eyes.
“Please reproduce for my poor memory all the things you’ve said while we were out,” he invited again.
Meekly, she offered: “I wasn’t thinking.”
“Hell, you were thinking, all right, and you’ll get your share for that too.”
“Okok, just let go… It hurts.”
He ignored her pleas and walked her to the exact same room in which he had blistered her ass the previous night. Another door closed behind them.
As he sat himself in a chair, he replaced the grip on her ear with a grip on her arm, pulling her unwilling body between his knees. With a jerking motion he unbuttoned her jeans.
“Jack, I was only joking. It wasn’t for real. I swear!”
“Can’t you see how amused I am?” He snatched at her jeans, bringing them to her knees. - “I’ve been laughing my ass off since morning.” - Her Tommy Hilfiger navy boy shorts followed. He took both her small hands into his and looked her in the eyes. “You have a wonderful sense of humor, hon. Now let me show you mine.”
She tumbled over his knee, forehead almost colliding with the floor, feet kicking the air. He placed his right leg over hers, trapping her, adjusting her rear to a perfect target-like position.
“Let’s see if you laugh,” Jack smiled and swatted hard. Her hand flew back the same moment.
“Kind of soon for that, don’t you think?” He seized it in his own and went on. “Ten minutes over my knee and a few licks with your arrow might finally teach you that I don’t appreciate this kind of humor.” He laughed and went on, watching her squirm on is lap.
She took as much she could the best she could. She wriggled as much as she dared to. It wasn’t going to save her but writhing caused the spanking to hurt less. The hand on the floor groped for support but found none that could relieve the pain from her tensed muscles. Her torso collapsed down on one elbow.
Jack went at the spanking job with all his energy. He admired how from pink, the color of her cheeks was shifting to a burning red. “You never learn, do you? You don’t want to learn. But that’s fine by me - I can do this each … fucking … day.”
He let the color change again to a darker red. Her cries had turned into screams. It didn’t bother him one bit. He was still smiling.
“You know this is the spanking for running away and speaking to me the way you did, right? I don’t want you to be surprised by round two, which is for last night.”
She didn’t answer. Most probably because she had bit her tongue chocking on a curse.
“But let’s not talk about round two until we are finished with round one.”
He wanted to set a new record about how long his hand would hurt after the spanking. He flexed his arm, clasped the air with his hand, soothing the burning feeling of the swellings in his palm. Kay wasn’t crying yet but soon she would be; He could promise her that.
“Stand up,” he said eventually. She slid down by his side, on her knees, unsure if to rub her eyes first, or her aching bottom. She went for the second choice.
Dammit, his hand hurt.
He picked up the arrow from the floor, where he had dropped in before taking her over his knee. He slid it through his palm, checking for knots that could bruise her. He found none. She had done a pretty good job, even better than if he would have asked for it. “All right,” he said, tapping it against his palm and looking down at Kay, “let’s see if this arrow is multifunctional, ey?”
“I think I had enough,” she said. “You’ve made your point.”
“Judging by your behavior I very much doubt it, Sunshine. So stop delaying, stand up, and bend over the chair. Unlike you, who’s been playing around in mud and pretending to fish, I had a rough day and I wanna get it over with. If you don’t wanna earn interest, I suggest you do as you’re told. I’m losing my patience here.”
She obeyed because she had no choice. Jack wrapped an arm around her waist and began planting some solid whacks on her behind. “Your arrow is multifunctional, all right,” he taunted her.
Her discomfort rose until her knees began to buckle; if it hadn’t been for his arm to keep her standing she would have been on her knees already.
Now she was sorry.
The welts overlapped. They built a solid welted mass – pretty much what you would get from the blow of a birch with 100 sticks inside.
The sobbing continued even after he had stopped whipping her. He sat next to her, waiting for her to calm down. He put an arm around Kay, pulling her to his chest. First, she resisted then she sobbed in his shoulder, while he rocked her gently.
There were no words. When she managed to catch her breath, she was still there, mute, chin on his shoulder, watching some sparrows hopping on a branch outside.