Brat Boot Camp pt. 5

“I have so many questions to ask you before I go home,” Gracie announced as Sharon stood over a pot of home-made chicken soup in the kitchen.

“Like what?” Sharon asked with a smirk.

“Like, first of all, how did you afford this big of a house? I don’t even know what you do for a living.”

Sharon laughed.

“That’s what you have on your mind, huh?”

“Yes,” said Gracie defensively. “I’m probably going to spend the rest of my life freelancing and couch surfing, so I’d most certainly like to know.”

“I have a degree in botany,” Sharon replied with a smirk. “My parents thought it was the most ridiculous field of study known to humankind, but it turns out that plant research is lucrative enough.”

“Oh,” said Gracie, mulling that information over, “You don’t strike me as much of a tree hugger.” Sharon raised an eyebrow.

“I kind of feel like I’m being insulted,” she replied.

“No, no, just taking it in,” Gracie teased. “Next, do you have kids?”

“They’re in college,” said Sharon flatly. She clearly didn’t plan to divulge too much.

“What about a husband?” Gracie pressed.

“We split up when I came out as a lesbian,” Sharon replied.

“Oh,” said Gracie again.

“Are you done with your tirade of questions, and if so, can we eat in peace? The soup is ready.”

Obediently, Gracie dropped her questions and headed to the kitchen to fill up a bowl for herself. Frankly, Gracie was in a sour mood. She was supposed to go home the next day: home to her sister who had sent her to this boot camp in the first place. But she found herself not wanting to go at all. She wasn’t mad at her sister, she just didn’t want to leave Sharon. She was starting to get attached.

Over the past few days, after Gracie realized how much she liked and needed to be spanked, she had joined an online chat room filled with other spankos. After lunch, while Sharon was doing the dishes, Gracie logged in to the chat room and sent a message to the group under her new alias and typed a message to her new friends.

NEWSPANKO: Ugh. I’m leaving my top today. Well, she’s not my top, just the top who I was staying with for the week. I don’t want to go home though. I like it here with my top. There’s no way my sister and I are going to have the same connection.

HOLLYBRAT: Your boot camp was only a week?! Oh no! I know how hard long-distance can be, but maybe your new top will stay in touch?

NEWSPANKO: Maybe. Unless she takes on a new brat and forgets about me…

WILDCHILD12: Well, I don’t think it would be a good idea for her to send a brat back home to an unsuspecting sister, right?

NEWSPANKO: What do you mean?

WILDCHILD12: I mean… if you were not well behaved, then maybe your top would have to keep you an extra week to make sure the lessons stuck 😉

NEWSPANKO: You mean act out on purpose?

HOLLYBRAT: NO. That is a bad idea. As a friend, I am begging you not to bring the wrath on yourself at the last minute.

WILDCHILD12: I wouldn’t lead you astray.

NEWSPANKO: Let me think about it. I need a plan.

Gracie closed the chat room and considered her options. She could be honest and tell Sharon that she wanted to stay. And yet… she kind of needed an authentic send off spanking, even if the plot to stay another week ultimately failed. Mulling the options over and over, Gracie came to a decision.

She tried to act normal for the rest of the day. She and Sharon went shopping together and bought steaming cups of hot cocoa with a huge dollop of whipped cream. It was a lovely day and Gracie almost scrapped her bratty plan, but she had an itch that she couldn’t scratch unless she gave it a shot.

“I’ll cook dinner tonight since it’s our last meal together,” Gracie offered as they walked back into the cozy warmth of Sharon’s house.

“Are you sure?” Sharon asked skeptically, “I appreciate you doing your share of chores this week, but usually I cook.”

“I can do it,” Gracie grinned mischievously. Not wanting to ruin a perfectly good offer, Sharon agreed and decided to use the extra time to write a letter to Gracie’s sister about her progress over the week. Gracie had done well and Sharon was please and excited to share.

Gracie gathered up some ingredients for dinner. Fresh pasta that Sharon had picked up at an Italian market, a large gleaming ball of mozzarella, even a bottle of red wine. As she cooked, she made sure to leave more of a mess than usual. She took several unnecessarily large gulps of red wine to fortify her confidence.

Brat mode: engaged, Gracie thought to herself with a giggle.

Gracie’s dinner was so delicious that Sharon didn’t even think to mention the mess in the kitchen. She figured they would tackle that together after their meal.

“Thank you for cooking dinner,” Sharon smiled, “You are quite the chef.”

“Thank you,” Gracie replied earnestly.

“Do you think you’ll cook like this for your sister now and then?” Sharon asked.

“She’s gluten free,” Gracie replied flatly.

“That’s not what I meant,” Sharon sighed, “Not pasta specifically, just… anything.”

“My sister doesn’t need me to feed her,” Gracie snarled, “She’s not a dog.”

“Excuse me?” Sharon asked harshly, “I’m not sure I like the attitude you’re giving me right now, especially since your sister is coming to pick you up tomorrow and I told her she’d be meeting a very polite, mature young lady.”

“What, were you going to introduce her to the woman who brings the mail?” Gracie asked sarcastically.

“You are pushing it,” Sharon said firmly. “Is there something you’d like to tell me? Is there something you’re upset about? Are you mad at your sister for sending you here?”

“No!” Gracie shouted quickly, suddenly feeling guilty about the prospect that Sharon would think that she hadn’t enjoyed the week, “No, I like it here.”

“Mhmm,” Sharon replied, her eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Ok. Then what has you in such a sour mood?”

“Maybe your little detective act,” Gracie replied, recovering her brat-act quickly, “I heard you were a botanist so no need to interrogate me. Stick to the plants, Shar.”

“We’ll continue this conversation after dinner,” Sharon said evenly. She was not going to be baited by Gracie’s tactics. They finished their last meal together in relative silence, and then Sharon gestured to the kitchen so that Gracie would know it was time to clean up.

“What?” Gracie asked stubbornly.

“It’s time to clean up,” Sharon told her.

“Ok, well good luck in there, captain,” Gracie replied with a mock salute.

“I’ll give you three seconds to get your butt into the kitchen and start cleaning before I lose my cool,” Sharon hissed with a menacing look. “One….. Two…”

“Didn’t know botanists could count so high,” Gracie interjected, throwing her napkin onto the table and walking toward her room.

She hadn’t planned much beyond this. She didn’t know what she was going to do if Sharon just let her walk away. She was equal parts relieved and horrified when she heard Sharon’s swift footsteps following her down the hall. Heart pounding, Gracie picked up the pace and tried to high-tail it into her room before Sharon could reach her. Gracie’s heart wasn’t in it, though, so Sharon quickly caught up and grabbed her firmly by the upper arm, swinging Gracie around and pinning her firmly, but carefully, to the wall. Gracie gave a pathetic, terrified squeak.

“THIS. ACT. ENDS. NOW.” Sharon was staring Gracie dead in the eyes, using her hips to keep Gracie trapped agains the wall and using her hands to pin Gracie’s thin wrists, as well. “You have less than ten seconds to explain why you’re acting like a royal brat. Go.”

“I’m…. I’m not?” Gracie offered pathetically.

“The hell you’re not,” Sharon snapped back. “Your mood darkened out of nowhere right before you’re supposed to head home. If you’re having negative feelings about returning to your sister, by all means, share them. But mouthing off to me and refusing to clean up the mess you made are one-way tickets to pain city.”

“I… I don’t want to go home,” Gracie admitted, a tear escaping her eyes, “And actually I don’t want to go to pain city either,” she added, giving Sharon a pathetic, tearful puppy dog look. Sharon sighed and released her hold on Gracie, pulling her into a hug instead.

“I figured as much,” Sharon whispered into Gracie’s hair as she patted Gracie’s head with surprising gentleness. “Your act was on the obvious side, my dear.”

“Oh,” Gracie mumbled to the floor.

“If you wanted to stay longer, you could have just asked,” Sharon pointed out gently. She placed her hand under Gracie’s chin and lifted Gracie’s head so that their eyes met. “You are a lovely person and I would have said yes in a heartbeat.”

“Really?” Gracie asked, her spirits lifting immediately.

“Yes,” said Sharon earnestly, “But now we have a problem, don’t we? Now I have a little girl who wants to stay with me but who acted very, very poorly in order to prove her point.’

“Right,” Gracie squeaked, shifting from foot to foot. She had thought she wanted one last spanking, but now that it was imminent, she had second thoughts. Sharon had offered to let her stay. That’s all she needed, really. Maybe they could just put on a movie and forget this whole ordeal.

“We’re not just going to put this behind us without a conversation,” Sharon said suddenly, as if she’d read Gracie’s thoughts. “I’m going to call your sister and explain that you’d like to stay. For now, we’ll plan on extending your stay for a week, during which your communication WILL improve, or your bottom will pay a steep price.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gracie replied instantly.

“And while I’m on the phone with your sister,” Sharon instructed, “You are going to march your behind to your bedroom, undress, and wait for me lying face down on the bed.” Gracie cringed but knew better than to disobey at this point.

“Yes, ma’am,” she repeated.

“Fine. Good girl,” Sharon said, giving her a sharp slap to the buttocks as she scampered off.

Gracie was so excited that she would get to stay that she barely registered how nervous she was for the punishment. She took off her clothes and folded them carefully, and then flopped onto her stomach on the bed. She felt humiliated by her nudity. She squeezed her legs together to avoid putting her most private parts on display, but she had a feeling that her modesty wouldn’t be preserved for long.

When Sharon quietly entered the room to stand at the foot of the bed, Gracie buried her face in the sheets and focused on breathing in and out.

“Have you had enough time to think about why you’re in this… position,” Sharon asked. Her presence was commanding but her tone wasn’t cruel. She sounded businesslike.

“Yes, ma’am,” Gracie said, “I was disrespectful to you on purpose because I was too chicken to tell you that I didn’t want to leave, which was immature of me and not acceptable.”

“Correct,” Sharon agreed. “All you had to do was have a simple conversation, and instead you insulted me and threw a fit like a child.”

“It won’t happen again,” Gracie promised, lifting her head just enough for her words to be audible.

“No, it won’t,” Sharon said, a hardened edge to her voice. “Are you going to stay very still or should I tie you up a bit?”

“Tie me?!” Gracie exclaimed, “No! No! I’ll stay in place.”

“Very well,” said Sharon skeptically, “We’ll find out.”

The room was silent. Her own breathing was all that Gracie could hear. She heard a soft rattle and the sound of clothing shifting. Was that… Gracie looked nervously over her shoulder. Her fears were confirmed: Sharon had a belt. It came off of Sharon’s belt loops with a barely audible swoosh. Gracie’s face crumpled in horror.

“NOOOO,” Gracie whined, starting to roll over and covering her bottom with her hand, “No, please, don’t hit me with that!”

“You don’t have a choice,” Sharon said with finality. Her face was resolute. Gracie squealed yet again, but she turned back over and waited obediently in position.

“You’re not getting a warm up with my hand,” Sharon explained, “I think you like that a bit too much, and this punishment is for your discipline. You need to learn your lesson. Stay in place or I’ll have to tie you down.” With that, Sharon lifted the end of the belt and brought it down rather softly on Gracie’s rear end. Gracie gave a reactive gasp, but was relieved that it hadn’t hurt as much as she’d feared. Was Sharon going easy on her?

“It’s just a warm up,” Sharon clarified, as if reading Gracie’s mind again. “When I think you’re ready, the punishment will start in earnest.” Gracie groaned internally. It wasn’t bad so far, but she knew it would get there. Surely enough, the soft swipes with the belt picked up in intensity. Her bottom went from slightly tingly to warm to burning in a matter of minutes. After about 15 soft strokes and 15 medium strokes, Sharon knew that it was time to pick up the intensity.

“It burns,” Gracie gasped, staying as still as possible but starting to breathe more heavily.

“You’ll get 15 proper strokes with the belt,” Sharon explained evenly, “Do not reach back or I will start over.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gracie replied, balling her hands up into fists and praying for it to go by quickly.

“I’m going to put a pillow under your hips so that I can aim better,” Sharon announced. She grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and used her hands to lift Gracie’s hips. Sharon’s long hair tickled Gracie’s naked back as she leaned over her to position her. Her soft, warm hands on Gracie’s bare hips felt surprisingly erotic. Gracie gave a gasp of surprise.

“Did that hurt,” Sharon asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

“No, sorry,” Gracie said quickly, “I just… I’m fine.”

“Ok,” said Sharon softly, giving Gracie an affectionate pat on her lower back. Gracie’s bottom was still burning, but she couldn’t deny the arousal that shot through her at Sharon’s intimate touch.

“Fifteen strokes,” Sharon repeated firmly, snapping Gracie back into reality. “Count and say thank you after each.”

Gracie nodded her understanding and took a breath. The first stroke felt like fire across her already-sore rear.

“YEEOW!” she yelped, her legs jerking involuntarily. “Fifteen, thank you,” she gasped, “Oh my god that hurts.”

“Fourteen to go, stay in position,” said Sharon mercilessly. The next lash rained down in a different spot on Gracie’s rear but was equally painful.

“Fourteen, thank you,” Gracie hissed. Sharon hadn’t told Gracie to count backwards, but she didn’t argue. There was no need. On the spanking went, each stroke burning across Gracie’s upturned cheeks and lighting a painful fire on her rear.

“Eight, thank you,” Gracie shouted as Sharon continued methodically, giving her hardly any time to recover between strokes.

“Seven, thank you” Gracie shrieked, her breathing growing frantic.

By four, Gracie had started to cry.

“Four, it hurts so bad,” Gracie moaned pathetically. Sharon didn’t say anything about the missing “thank you.” She simply raised the belt and delivered two hard consecutive strokes.

“Three, two, thank youuuu,” Gracie cried.

“Good girl,” Sharon encouraged her, “Last one.”

“ONE,” Gracie shouted, squirming and thrashing but staying in place, “THANK YOU.” She breathed a sigh of relief and cried into the sheets. Sharon put the belt aside and gently rubbed Gracie’s back for a moment. Gracie could tell by her demeanor that they weren’t done.

“Stand up,” Sharon commanded, firmly but kindly. Gracie obeyed. Sharon stood Gracie directly in front of her and looked her in the eyes. Gracie immediately remembered that she was naked and collapsed her body language to try and cover up.

“Stop that,” Sharon ordered. Gracie’s cheeks were starting to become as red as her bottom, but she stayed still.

“Is it over?” Gracie asked.

“No,” Sharon explained, “You’re going to go stand in the corner for a few minutes, and then you’re going to come back over here and resume your position on the bed.” Gracie’s jaw dropped open.

“Your bottom is safe for now,” Sharon promised.

“Then what–” Gracie began to ask.

“Corner,” Sharon repeated, turning Gracie around and landing three sharp, painful smacks on her battered rear end. Desperate to get away, Gracie scampered off to the corner naked and stuck her nose into the crease in the wall. It was nice to have a break for her bum to cool off, no matter what came next. Sharon sat calmly on the bed, admiring Gracie’s figure from behind. Gracie vacillated between feeling embarrassed and feeling curious about what would come next.

“Come back,” Sharon commanded finally. Gracie shuffled back out of the corner and climbed onto the bed as Sharon stood up with the belt in her hand. Gracie didn’t know if she could handle more with the belt, but she knew better than to complain.

“I’m ready,” Gracie announced bravely.

“You don’t even know what I’m about to do,” Sharon smiled in amusement.

“The belt again,” Gracie replied, feeling a little confused about what else could be on the horizon.

“Yes, the belt,” Sharon agreed tentatively, “But first, what did you do when I told you it was time to clean up the kitchen?”

“I gave you attitude and said no?” Gracie asked slowly. They had already covered that. Where was this going?

“Mhm,” Sharon drawled, “And then what…”

“I don’t, oh, uhm, I walked away from you,” Gracie said.

“And you won’t be doing that again,” Sharon announced. “I don’t tolerate brats walking away in the middle of a conversation. The first think you need to learn about communication is that you don’t unilaterally decide when a conversation is over. To help you remember, I’m going to give you ten lashes on each foot with the belt. Don’t worry- I won’t swing it as hard as I did with your bottom. I don’t want to injure you. It will be a nice stingy reminder of why you don’t walk away from me. It will feel like a sunburn,” Sharon explained rather clinically.

“Er…” Gracie didn’t know how to react, but she didn’t argue.

“It’s hard to fight your reflexes, so I’m going to put my leg on yours,” Sharon explained. She draped her left leg across Gracie’s calves, her right leg still planted on the ground so that she could balance when swinging the belt. “No need to count this time.”

With that, Sharon grabbed Gracie’s right ankle firmly with her left hand and lifted the end of the belt with her right. She brought the end of the belt down in a short, snappy CRACK. It stung a bit, but wasn’t terribly painful. The pain built gradually as the strikes went on, but it was more of a firm reminder than all-out torture. When she finished with the right foot, she switched to the left.

“You ok?” Sharon asked when she finished.

“Yes, ma’am,” Gracie replied.

“Great,” Sharon said, “Stand up and get over my lap. We’re going to finish with a hand spanking. I don’t think you’ll like it given that you’re already red and sore, but it will really drive in the message.”

“This is diabolical,” Gracie groaned, but she stood up and draped her naked body over Sharon’s lap anyway. As much as she dreaded more swats, it was nice to be touching Sharon again. The belt allowed for more distance than Gracie liked.

Sharon’s hand spanking was firm, but not as hard as it would be if she hadn’t just taken the belt. Gracie was quite sore and it didn’t take long for her to cry, more from guilt than pain, but the pain was there.

“You will communicate next time,” Sharon announced as she aimed several swat’s at poor Gracie’s sit spots. “If you’re going to stay here, we are not going to have any childish bratting in lieu of adult conversation.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gracie said, “The message has been duly received.”

“Good,” said Sharon, returning to the backs of Gracie’s thighs for another round of swats. Gracie whimpered and shifted on Sharon’s lap as the fire in her rear built to a peak.

“Please,” she whimpered, “It hurts.”

“Ten more,” said Sharon gently. They weren’t even that hard. Gracie had been good, so Sharon didn’t want to go overboard. She wrapped up the final swats and transitioned fluidly into rubbing Gracie’s bottom, back, and thighs. Her long fingernails ran gently along Gracie’s burning skin, giving her goosebumps as her tears dried and her breathing regulated. As Sharon continued to rub, Gracie’s sense of arousal returned. She let out a barely audible moan and her legs involuntarily parted.

“Miss Sharon?” she gasped.

“Huh?” Sharon asked, “Miss… Sharon? You don’t have to call me that, sweetheart.”

“Ugg, ok, Sharon?” Gracie asked again.

“What is it baby?” Sharon asked patiently.

“I feel…”

“Yes… are you ok?” Sharon asked, pausing her hand on Gracie’s lower back.

“Aroused,” Gracie mumbled, embarrassed at her admission. There was a long silent pause. Sharon finally let out a nervous laugh.

“Oh,” she said uncertainly, “Well, then.”

“I’m sorry,” Gracie replied, closing her legs and trying to curl up into a humiliated ball, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” Sharon kept her hand pressed firmly into Gracie’s lower back so that Gracie couldn’t get up.

“No, sweetheart, you’re fine,” Sharon cooed. “I just hadn’t really planned on, you know, being intimate with you that way. I don’t ever want to abuse my authority that way. Would you like some time to… calm down?”

“No,” Gracie admitted, “I would prefer to… not calm down if you know what I mean.”

“If that’s what you want,” Sharon said slowly and softly, letting her hand drift from Gracie’s bottom to her inner thigh. She continued to rub sensually as Gracie’s thighs spread open again, revealing her wetness and desire.

“I want it,” Gracie assured her, parting her legs further and arching her back, “Please.”

“Mm,” Sharon mumbled softly, letting her finger rise higher on Gracie’s thigh and toward her center.

“Please,” Gracie repeated.

“This isn’t a reward for being a brat,” Sharon whispered as she took Gracie suddenly and possessively with two of her fingers, “We’ll consider it a welcome home present.”

Gracie groaned in ecstasy. It was going to be a good night, after all.

“I like being home with you,” Gracie breathed. And with that, she and Sharon rolled onto Gracie’s small bed just as the sun fell below the horizon. Sometimes, bratting pays off in the end.