Double Trouble Pt. II

Amy really means business when she spanks. Her hand alone makes it feel like a million fire ants are biting my rear end.

“You will never look me in the eye and lie to me again,” Amy says matter of factly. She falls silent after that and the room is filled with the sound of sharp smacks and my own labored breathing. When I try to wiggle, she seamlessly adjusts herself in order to keep me in place without once breaking her rhythm. She moves her hand to my upper thighs, and smacks until I screech in pain. I try kicking my legs again, but my butt is so high up in the air that I’m off balance and can’t get any momentum. With a sob, I give up and let Amy’s assault continue. Finally, she gives a few smacks to each of my sit spots and rests her hand gently on my lower back.

“Ok. I think I can safely assume that we’ll have complete honesty from now on.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m sorry,” I sniffle as she helps me sit up. Amy pulls me into a hug and I bury my head against her shoulder. My tears start anew, but I let her hold and comfort me. Melissa, calm as ever, is patiently watching from the other end of the couch. When I look up at her, she stands up and holds out her hand with a smile.

“Let’s get going so that we can let Amy take care of your compadre, yeah?” I nod solemnly and give Amy another hug.

“Can you tell Juliet that I… I’m sorry she’s in trouble. I still feel terrible about ratting her out.”

“Juliet got herself in trouble. There is no need to apologize. I will have her call you later.” Satisfied with that promise, I head out to Melissa’s car. I start crying again before she even has the keys in the ignition.

“What’s wrong, love?” she asks as she carefully backs the car out of Amy’s driveway and onto the snowy roads ahead.

“I don’t want you to be mad at me,” I cry miserably. I had such a good night, and I’m letting myself throw a pity party that I managed to ruin the rest of the weekend. The guilt was bad enough, and Amy’s soaping and spanking both SUCKED. Melissa sighs sympathetically, and I can tell she’s torn between her irritation with me and her desire to soothe me.

“Let’s have our chat in the car, ok? We have a long drive and there’s no need for me to stew in my anger and for you to sit there feeling sorry for yourself. First things first, I brought some fruit and mini bagels. You need to eat breakfast.” She motions to a plastic bag of snacks in the back seat, and I start crying harder.

“You [gasp] brought me [gasp] breakfast [sniffle] but I was so bad and now you’re upset and we won’t have a nice day and I’ve ruined everything.” I drop the breakfast bag onto my lap and continue crying miserably. Melissa’s eyes go wide in confusion.

“Ok. I mean, I didn’t expect you to be thrilled about being punished, but don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” Melissa asks, looking truly puzzled.

“What can I say? I’m a sensitive little thing,” I retort with what has to be an adorable frown. Melissa laughs.

“You are so cute. You are so sensitive sometimes. But you need to eat and you’re still going to be punished. And then we’re going to have an amazing day. In fact, I have plans for us tonight. Right now, I just want to talk to you.”

“Ok,” I sniffle, peeling a clementine and looking at Melissa expectantly while I munch.

“The lying has been addressed, but this is the second time that you’ve put yourself in danger where alcohol has been involved. I’m so disappointed because I know that you know better. I hope taking away your drinking privileges will help, but what you allowed Juliet to do was serious. You two endangered yourselves and everyone else on the road.”

“I know,” I squeak, “And I know that saying sorry is inadequate, but I can promise that it will never happen again.”

“I’m glad to hear that you think so. In addition to the no alcohol rule, I’m going to sign you up to do 20 hours of volunteer work with Students Against Drunk Driving. You also owe me a six page essay on why drinking any amount of alcohol makes driving entirely unsafe. You have one week. If I’m not happy with it, we can move on to a documentary about the devastating effects of drunk driving. When we get home, you’re going to be spanked with the paddle and the belt. I hope that after that, we’ll be in agreement on how I feel about you putting yourself in danger. Remember that I’m punishing you because I care about you.” My brows furrow as I process the punishment. It seems fair under the circumstances.

“Alright. I accept the terms of your punishment.” Melissa laughs again.

“I’m so glad,” she says with mock relief. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“No,” I mumble, “I just got caught up in the moment. It wasn’t peer pressure or anything like that. I don’t have any excuses.”

“Good girl.” Melissa lets me hold her hand until we arrive at home. When we do, her demeanor becomes more businesslike. “Up to my room, clothes completely off, and stand in the corner,” she orders. I have never been entirely naked for a punishment before, but I don’t argue. I take everything but my bra off and fold my clothes neatly. When Melissa comes upstairs, she wordlessly unhooks my bra and slides it off my shoulders. “When I said everything, I meant everything,” she growls.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper back, “It’s super embarrassing to be naked even though you see me naked all the time now.”

“Mhmm,” is her only response. Melissa retreats to the bed and just stares at me in the corner. I feel a blush creeping up on my cheeks. Finally, she calls me over and I stand in front of her. “I’m going to have you lay on the bed with your hips over those pillows,” instructs Melissa seriously. “I’m going to paddle you, and you’re going to stay still. If you move, you’ll move your fanny right back in place before the next smack. If you move too much, I’m adding swats with the belt. Also, see that spray bottle?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I reply, wondering what on earth it could be for.

“It’s cold water. If I spray your bottom with it, the smacks will hurt a lot worse. It’s like magic. Trust me- you don’t want to find out. Answer questions when I ask them, and don’t move, and we won’t have an issue.” My eyes go wide and I nod vigorously. That’s pure evil!

Melissa settles me onto my pillows and stands by the side of the bed. I twitch in anticipation, but remind myself not to move an inch. When the paddle comes down, I realize that my bottom is still slightly sore from the hand spanking this morning.

“AHHHHHHHHH!” I scream miserably, “OHMYGOSH that’s so hard.”

“You can cry as you need to,” says Melissa, “But no more speaking unless you’re spoken too.” I bite my lip miserably. She was so sweet in the car, and now she’s being a monster. The paddle comes down again, and man is she swinging her arm hard. My hips jerk involuntarily as pain rips through my lower half, but I settle immediately back onto the pillow for fear of making the punishment worse. Melissa begins to vary the speed and intensity of the strokes with the paddle. I cross my legs and bunch the sheets up in my fists in order to prevent myself from moving. I hiss and gasp in pain with every stroke, but avoid calling out again. The sting is unreal. Melissa begins to hit the same spot over and over. My crying and panting turns into a screech.

“PLEASEEEEE PLEASE STOP IT’S TOO MUCH, IT HURTS TOO BAD.”

“Shae. That wasn’t your safe word. You were asked not to speak.” With that, Melissa grabs the bottle and sprays each cheek twice. The ice cold mist actually feels amazing on my hot skin. But then the paddle comes down rapidly, twice on each sit spot, and I let out a full on scream. I shove part of the pillow into my mouth to avoid talking. I cry and cry and squeeze my legs and fists tighter still to avoid moving. Finally, the paddle stops and I breathe a sigh of relief. My breathing is ragged and my bottom has never felt so swollen. “We’re going to continue this conversation with the belt,” Melissa says gently, “Same rules apply.”

I nod in response. Melissa shuffles around a little, and then stands beside me again. “Shae. Why did you get into the car with Juliet last night? Answer concisely.”

“My judgment was impaired because I had consumed 4-5 servings of alcohol myself. I didn’t want to miss the show and was having fun. I didn’t think we’d get caught because the roads were so empty. My priorities were way off. My safety is way more important that a fun show at a slumber party.”

My confession is rewarded by a sharp smack of the belt. It burns across my already fiery bottom, but I stay in place wordlessly. “What should you have done instead?” Melissa asks.

“Tell Juliet that we have to wait for a cab, or tell her that we can’t go.” I brace myself for another strike. I get two on my upper thighs, and I cry out in misery.

“When should you have texted me?” Melissa probes.

“I should have let you know when I got to the show that we made a mistake so that someone could have prevented us from driving home drunk.” The belt comes down again and I hiss once more.

“And why did you both continue to drink at the show, making the drive home even more reckless?” Melissa presses on.

“Impaired judgment. Once I get a buzz going, I keep drinking, and I didn’t want to tell Juliet to stop, either.” I’m shaking and dreading the next strike. Instead, I feel Melissa’s hand on my shoulder.

“I have serious concerns about your relationship with alcohol, little one,” she says softly. “I think that, given the eating disorder, you may have… an addictive personality.” Her voice is gentle and worried. “I want to help,” she continues, “So why don’t we bring this up with your counselor. I won’t let you drink again until we have some clarity.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I reply miserably.

“I think we’re all done here,” Melissa says with a sigh, “Stand up.” I stand up slowly and face her. I’m in a lot of pain, and I feel vulnerable standing in front of her naked. Sensing my feelings, she brushes my hair off my tear streaked face and asks one more time if I understand why I was punished.

“Yes, Ma’am. I understand. It was just terrible.”

“I know,” she laughs, “But hey, I planned to take you Christmas shopping today. We can get cocoa, shop till we drop, then come home and, eh, make some love by the fireplace while my son is at his dad’s place. Do you think your sore butt can handle an outing?”

“Oh, yes, that sounds amazing.”

“Ok, princess,” she smiles, “Let’s have you take a nap first.” Melissa tucks me in, and I drift off to sleep before she’s even turned the light off. When I stir over an hour later, I see a text from Juliet on my phone. My heart skips a beat. Is she mad?!

Juliet: I’m sorry about last night. I put you in danger. Thank you for sticking up for me, and then telling the truth. I’m not mad at all. Best friends still, right?

Me: Yes!!! It’s not your fault. We were both irresponsible. But hey, we’re gonna learn to make some KILLER virgin cocktails. 

Juliet: Heck yeah!! Your butt ok? 

Me: Ugh. No. I can’t wait to tell you how terrible my punishment was. Wanna call real quick? 

Juliet: Oh, yes. Wait until you hear about mine. It just ended. 

Me: Shit. I hope she didn’t beat you for 2.5 hours straight. 

My phone rings and I pick up.

“Let me tell you what happened,” Juliet begins, “Here’s a literal play by play….”

 

[to be continued while my brat mind tries to come up with punishments for Juliet]

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