Story time — The Long Weekend

I hope everyone got a copy of A Haunting Experience while it was up for free. I had a lot of fun celebrating its first book birthday, but now it’s over and the price has gone back to normal. Remember, a review is the best gift you can give and author, and the best way to ensure they will keep writing!

So, my last post was an update and I thought we’d do something different this time. How about a short story? I like a wide variety, and I have written a lot of different genres, but of course most of my stories have spanking in them. I like to just let my muse decide where we go for things like this. A bit of an impromptu bedtime story… which means this is unedited and yes, no doubt there will be mistakes. Once I get rich and famous and I have a PA to edit my posts you can stop suffering through the errors. So, there’s some incentive to make that happen, In the meantime… for those who like warnings this story is M/F, spanking, no sex.


The Long Weekend

She’d disappointed him.

He didn’t know it yet, but it wasn’t something she could hide. She wasn’t allowed to hide things from him anyway, especially not big things like this, but the temptation to sweep it all under the rug and try to pretend like nothing was wrong was so compelling. Except she was never any good at that.

Keeping secrets wasn’t her best skill. She had an overactive guilt reflex that tended to make her a shaking mess every time she screwed up and tried to hide it. She’d had limited success with punishing herself; denying herself small pleasure or taking on extra chores took the edge off the guilt and allowed her to function—for a while, but eventually it always came out, and then she ended up in trouble for that too.

“Whose job is it to punish you?” he’s say, as he’d said more than once before. More times than she cared to count actually.

“Yours, Sir,” she’d admit, unable to look up into his eyes. And because she’d be staring at the floor miserably she wouldn’t see his reactions to her failure to follow the rules, but she’d know because they’d been here before. It was like a song on loop, repeating no matter how much she wanted to stop it. From there it would follow the predictable pattern that she kept pushing herself into. The lecture and of course the punishment.

“What do you have a Dominant for if not to help you with these things? You know we’ve been over this, right? If you hide things from me than I can’t help you,” he’d say. Or something along those lines, there were slight variations, but it was a common theme. There wasn’t a lot she could say because she didn’t really know why she instinctively felt an urge to hide her mistakes. It wasn’t fear of punishment. Maybe it was the fear of being too much work, but in that case, she’d have expected it to encourage her to follow the rules better.

Somehow even when she tried she always seemed to find herself back here, but at least this time she was determined to fess up and deal with it—without the long wait, without having to be asked repeatedly what was wrong. This time she was going to do the right thing. It was easier on both of them, as he’d pointed out with a sigh last time. That sigh and the disappointed look that said ‘Again?’ had nearly made her cry before the punishment even began, so she’d resolved to do better this time.

She appeared in the doorway as silent as a wraith and for a moment she just watched him. Settled comfortably in an overstuffed chair in front of the fire reading, he seemed to be enjoying his Friday night. There was a slight curving of his lips to indicate that whatever he was reading was amusing. He looked to be in a good mood and as much as she hated to ruin that, it was probably better for her.

She cleared her throat and he looked up, startled but already giving her a welcoming smile. “Coming in to sit with me, Love?” he asked, looking curious. He was probably wondering why she was keeping her distance instead of burrowing up against his side as she normally did.

“Um…I just wanted to—I wanted to tell you that I…um,” and she trailed off as the words got stuck.

One eyebrow went up and he waited a few moments before prompting, “Tell me what?” His lips tightened, probably already suspecting she was about to confess something, or maybe the long pauses and ‘ums’ were just annoying to listen to.

She floundered but just couldn’t get the words out. “That—that I was… Never mind. It’s nothing, sorry,” she blurted as she turned and fled. She’d had high hopes but apparently that was as far as her courage was going to stretch and a familiar feeling of disappointment settled in, making her feel queasy, but she didn’t stop until she got to the bedroom. She dived into the large bed and pulled the covers over her head as though being out of sight meant she could just disappear and leave the trouble behind her.

As if it would ever be that easy.

He gave her a little time, probably it was meant to be a chance to come back and try again, but she’d exhausted her ability to be straightforward and remained right where she was until he finally came looking. She wasn’t sure how long it took but eventually she heard him coming up the stairs and down the hall. The hard soles of his shoes tapping on the polished wooden floorboards were an advance warning of the trouble coming her way.

She was already feeling sorry for herself and his slow but determined approach had her eyes starting to prickle with hot tears. When the telltale creak of wood just outside the door let her know he was there she turned away from the door, she curled up on her side and sniffled miserably. The small sound must have been audible to him because a second later she heard a long sigh.

“What happened?” he asked.

She wasn’t sure if he was asking why she’d run or what she was avoiding telling him. Knowing him it was probably both and she hugged herself tighter. “I messed up.”

“So I gathered,” he said. His tone was neutral as though he was reserving judgement until he’d heard everything. He crossed the room, but the bedroom carpet muffled his movements and her first indication was when he took a seat on the edge of the bed. She jumped and looked over her shoulder with a wide-eyed startled expression. For a few seconds their eyes locked and then she quickly looked away again.

“I’m going to need more to go on, sweetheart,” he said finally, breaking the silence that had grown between them.

He could be patient, he usually was, but there were limits and she didn’t want to push them. She’d been trying so hard to do the opposite today—to be his good girl, but knowing he was going to be mad made it so hard to tell him. “I got a speeding ticket,” she whispered.

“Well, obviously you’re in trouble. We’ve talked about your lead foot before, but it’s hardly the end of the world. Or is there more to the story?” he asked. His tone made it obvious he already had a pretty good idea what the response was going to be to that.

“It was a while ago—a couple months back,” she admitted reluctantly. She could almost hear his jaw creaking as it tightened the way it did when he got mad, but he didn’t say anything. They both knew that if she’d hidden it successfully for that long there had to be a reason to bring it up now. Her first instinct to bury her guilt tended not to last long and she generally fell apart in a few days.

“I didn’t want to deal with it, so I just shoved it out of sight in the glovebox and I—” She stopped, gulping audibly before she forced herself to continue “I forgot all about it. I swear I did!” she blurted, looking at him again over her shoulder so he could see the sincerity on her face. “But then today a summons came in the mail and…I have to go to court for it and—and I’m sorry! I’m really sorry, please don’t be mad!” As the words spilled out of her mouth in a torrent she rolled over and threw herself on him, clinging desperately with tears rolling down her cheeks.

He took it all in stride, catching her and settling her against him before she knocked them both to the floor. There would be time for lectures and punishment, but that could come later, at the moment his only concern was calming her down. She had, as usual, worked herself up into thinking she’d done something earth-shattering that they’d never recover from. Nothing would penetrate her shield of despair until she came out of that.

He knew her well after all this time. Knew what she needed, almost before she did. There were times when she needed him to be angry with her, harsh and unyielding, but this wasn’t one of those times. He held her, murmuring soothing things until she stopped shaking. When she seemed to be more or less calm he reached over and snagged the box of tissues from the night stand, handing them to her so she could wipe her face.

She snuck a look at him as she carefully blotted her red eyes. “Are you mad at me?” she asked tentatively.

He regarded her for a few moments, one eyebrow going up. “Well, I’m not exactly pleased with you right now,” he said finally.

Fair enough she wasn’t very happy with herself either. “I’m such an idiot,” she said, sighing. She blew her nose in the handful of tissues. Her felt all scratchy from the crying and she was starting to get a sinus headache, but that was the least of her worries at the moment.

“I wouldn’t go that far, but you’ve made a few mistakes that we’re going to need to deal with. First thing tomorrow we’ll take a look at the papers and make sure there’s nothing we need to worry about immediately,” he said. He took charge with a firm tone, all calm and logical, and she started to relax. He’d handle things now and she could let go of the stress.

His next words stopped her cold though, “We’ll need to check and make sure a warrant hasn’t been issued or a suspension.”

“A… a warrant?!” Her voice sounded almost an octave higher than normal. She just stared at him, not even noticing when her hand went slack, and the tissues fell to the bed. “Like—for arrest?!”

“Yes, like for arrest. Because that’s what happens when you break the law and then don’t pay the fine, kiddo. Since you got a summons they probably haven’t gone that far yet, but they might have suspended your license,” he said, giving her an extra patient look.

“But—but it was an accident. I didn’t mean to forget it,” she cried. Her voice went even higher and the watery look that caused her eyes to appear two shades lighter warned that more tears were imminent.

“Afraid that’s not going to be a big consideration to the courts, but there’s nothing we can do about it now,” he reminded her as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and gave her a reassuring hug.

“I hate being an adult; it sucks,” she muttered as she leaned into him and buried her face against his shoulder. She meant it too. Being an adult was hard and she never seemed to hit the target, always falling short. If he wasn’t there to take care of her she wasn’t sure how she’d manage at all.

She sounded so resentful about having to deal with life that he chuckled and gave her another squeeze. “Well, lucky for you I’m here to help you with that, and part of helping is making sure you take care of yourself and do the things you’re supposed to do,” he said. His tone was still calm, still soft, but a hint of steel had crept into it and when she tried to ease away from him the arm tightened holding her there. “Nope, stay right here.”

She looked up at him, and her bottom lip trembled. The short curls that framed her face gave her a pixyish childlike look that added to the woeful expression. The combination could be deadly to anyone trying to enforce discipline, and she knew it, but it never worked with him and she knew that too. It didn’t stop her from trying, of course.

“Nice try,” he said, snorting. “Exactly how much was this ticket for?”

She hesitated and then sighed. “Two hundred dollars,” she admitted with great reluctance.

Those expressive eyebrows of his went right up. “How fast were you going?” he demanded.

“Nineteen miles over is what the ticket says,” she said. She was careful with the phrasing because lying would get her in trouble, but she did have a reputation for playing with words to avoid an outright falsehood.

“I didn’t ask what the ticket said,” he said pointedly. There was a dangerous glint in his eye warning her to stop while she was ahead. He tended to pay far too much attention to her words to let her slip through a loophole that broad.

“Twenty… five, but the cop said he’d give me a break, so I didn’t have to go to court.” She dropped her eyes unable to look at the expression on his face. That look of disappointment, and the shadow of anger that she’d put herself in danger was so hard to handle. Neither commented on the irony that she’d now have to go to court anyway despite the generous reduction.

“I see.” It was an ominous statement, but no matter how tempted she was to look up to try to figure out what he was thinking she wasn’t going to do it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I believe you, but you’re going to be sorrier in a minute,” he retorted. One swift tug took her from sitting next to him, to sprawling across his lap. She had a very good view of the floor from that angle and not for the first time she wished the carpet was patterned instead of a boring solid cream color. It would give her something to concentrate on, since she seemed to spend so much time staring at it.

She considered making a fuss, struggling, kicking up her legs or even pleading with him to let her off with a warning, but in this case, it was hard to argue that she deserved the punishment. Speeding, anything unsafe really, was against the rules and it wasn’t the first time she’d broken this particular one. She liked to drive fast, she always had, but she was his. His to protect and his to punish and that meant she had to follow the rules or else… and she was about to experience the ‘what else’ part.

His hand swept down, landing on the back of her thin shorts with a sold crack that made her jump though she wasn’t sure if it was the loud sound or the immediate sting that got her attention first—it didn’t matter both were pretty attention-getting.

What surprised her, no, downright shocked her, was that he stopped after just ten. Those ten were enough to leave her backside burning and sore, but still she’d been expecting a much longer session and probably not only his hand so when he sat her back up next to him she looked puzzled. She hadn’t even gotten to the point of tears yet, probably because she’d used up most of them beforehand, but she usually managed more once the spanking really got going.

“A-are you done?” she asked tentatively when he didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to sound like she thought there should be more in case he was finished, but she had an anxious feeling that he had other plans she wasn’t going to like much.

He looked at her quietly for a second and then he shook his head. “No…I think we’re going to try something different. This is the first time you’ve gotten a ticket but it’s not the first time we’ve had to discuss the speeding, is it?”

She shook her head, biting her bottom lip. “No. No sir.”

“You’re going to have some consequences for the rest of it, but we’ll sort it out first, so we know what we’re dealing with. For now, you’re getting one spank for every dollar of that ticket; that would be two hundred,” he said. There was a firmness to his voice that made it clear he wasn’t going to negotiate with her.

“But that’s so many!” she whined. She shifted dramatically on the bed trying to look as though she was in a lot more pain than she was, but this was where knowing her so well came in and he wasn’t fooled at all. He knew exactly, down to the last smack, how much she could take, and he hadn’t even come close to her limits. They both knew she had a high tolerance for pain, though it was much lower when it was punishment, something about the emotions seemed to make it all hurt so much more.

He was polite enough not to laugh at the act. “Uh-huh. Well, you’ve got ten out of the way now,” he said.

When nothing else happened, and she hated that he was just sitting there waiting for her to ask, she sighed. “When are you doing the rest?” she asked.

“That would be up to you. You have until Sunday afternoon to finish them, because we have plans in the evening, or you get whatever’s left with the hairbrush—the mean one that you hate,” he said. His lip quirked a little with a smile that he suppressed because she’d shivered when he mentioned that hairbrush. Of all the toys they owned, some specially made to be exquisitely painful, it was the simple hairbrush that she dreaded most.

“I—I get to decide?” Her eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed as she considered this. That actually sounded like it wouldn’t be so bad. She had almost two days after all, and she could spread them out, so they barely hurt.

“You have to decide, yes, but here are the conditions: first, you can have as many as you can take at one go, but I’m not doing less than ten at a time or there won’t be any benefit in it,” he said, as though guessing her thoughts. She scowled at that but kept silent as he continued. “Second, you have to come and ask me to spank you. I’m not going to chase you around all weekend, and if you don’t ask right I’m just going to say no and you’ll end up with a lot of hairbrush coming your way Sunday night before bed.”

“A-ask you? But—but I…” she trailed off, giving him a pleading look.

He nodded decisively. “Yes. This is your punishment for your benefit, and it gets a little tiring having to pry things out of you, so this time you can come and ask me.” There was deliberate sternness there, and she could tell by the tone that he wasn’t going to change his mind.

She was quiet, thinking this over and worrying at it mentally like a dog with a bone and he waited patiently until she looked at him again. “Lap? Please?” she asked with an anxious quaver in her voice.

“Always,” he said, opening his arms immediately with a loving, welcoming expression on his face.

She scooted into them and curled up there, feeling protected. It was her safe place where nothing could hurt her, not even her own mistakes and she needed that as she worked through things. “That’s going to be hard,” she said finally.

“It’s supposed to be hard or it wouldn’t be punishment,” he reminded her. “And it will be good for you to stop running and start coming to me on your own.”

“Yeah, that’s true. I just hate…that. The asking. It’s—” She shrugged a little and pressed her face into his chest.

“Well, you could just wait until Sunday night for the hairbrush if it’s too hard,” he said, chuckling as she frantically shook her head without looking up. “You could limit the number of times you have to ask by taking it in two sessions?” he suggested.

“Yeah, maybe,” and she’d try but there was a good chance that once she got through the minimum she’d quickly call a halt and end up having to ask him for — A quick bit of math in her head had her groaning— nineteen separate spankings over a day and a half. Each one would be quick and not too hard to get through but asking nineteen times would drive them both up the wall. She had to find some balance there, but at least she did have the choices.

She was also going to have to gather up all her courage because if she couldn’t be brave about this it was going to be a very long weekend. Actually, if she was honest with herself, it was going to be a long weekend either way, and she really hated being an adult sometimes— but at least she had him to help.

2 Replies to “Story time — The Long Weekend”

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