Jaden's Chance

by Ashlynn Ally

  “Five?” he repeats, with a little scoff. “Okay, let’s say fifteen then. Fifteen swats with the hairbrush, and after each one, I want you to count it, and I want you to say the words, ‘Yes, sir, no, sir, I’m sorry, sir.’ Okay? You got that? Let’s do a practice one. I’m not even going to start spanking you. Just say the words.”

  I don’t want to, but I know I have to suck it up and do it in order to get this over with. Doesn’t mean I can’t take my sweet time though. After all, I’m still kind of reeling that he would give me fifteen swats when I requested five. That’s ten more than what I wanted! Why ask for my suggestion if he wasn’t going to take it anyway? Just for that, I’m going to make him wait as long as I please until…

  “Jaden Sierra Macklemore!” he interrupts my thoughts by barking out my full name. I didn’t even know he knew my full name. He punctuates it by bringing the hairbrush down full force onto the very center of my backside, getting some of the tender skin that creeps up into my crack. The pain is so much it takes my breath away for a second, and then when I get it back, I’m making noises I didn’t even know I could make.

  “What was that for?” I scream out with a loud, shuddering sob. “You said it was just practice! You said you weren’t going to hit me yet!”

  “You know very well what it was for! It was an extra one for hesitating instead of saying what I asked you to say. I don’t know if you’ve got this yet, but you’re not running this show, Jaden, I am. And I want you to say, ‘yes, sir, no, sir, sorry, sir,’ right now.”

  Man, this guy really isn’t playing around. So, even though I’m in excruciating pain, and don’t want to give him the satisfaction of him hearing me recite his words on command like a trained parrot, I certainly don’t want any extra, extra ones. Begrudgingly, I get out as quickly as possible his precious, “Yes, sir, no, sir, I’m sorry, sir.”

  “That’s better,” comes his voice from above me. It seems like I’ve been over his knee so long, I’m almost starting to forget what it’s like to talk to a person face to face. “Now, onto the fifteen swats, and after this, I’ll doubt you’ll be forgetting to call me sir during a punishment ever again, though with your track record, who knows? But maybe this will help you remember.”

  He lands the first of the fifteen blows. Just like the first time the hairbrush cracked down against my panty-clad bottom, I lose my composure for a few moments, nearly forgetting all of what I’m supposed to do and say.

  “One!” I choke out, when reality finally comes back to me. The pain spreads out across my backside like a wildfire, making me squirm like a trapped animal over his knee. “Yes, sir, no, sir, I’m sorry, sir.”

  “Good,” Justin breathes out, nearly comforting. “Fourteen more. Remember, I want you to count every one.”

  We go onto two, and then three, and then four. By five, I’m crying so hard I can barely count or stutter out anything coherent. Justin just keeps on spanking me, waiting patiently after each blow for me to say the words before delivering the next one.

  “Please, that’s enough!” I burst out when I think I’m supposed to say six. Or is it seven? “It hurts so bad!”

  “Spankings are supposed to hurt, Jaden,” Justin informs me, as composed as ever. “Do you think you would learn any kind of lesson if it didn’t hurt?”

  “I’ve learned my lesson already, I swear!”

  “Then what are you supposed to be saying right now?”

  “Please, I’ve had enough…” I continue begging through my sobs.

  “No…”

  “Justin, please, it really, really, really hurts!”

  “Jaden, listen to me,” Justin cuts off my sobbing and begging with a sharp tone. “If you don’t want to keep saying what you’re supposed to be saying, that’s fine, but you’re still going to get the rest of this spanking, and then afterwards you will sit on your sore bottom on a stool at the kitchen table and write one hundred times over and over again what you’re supposed to be saying now, which is ‘yes, sir, no, sir, I’m sorry, sir.’ So you have a choice, say it now with the spanking, or you don’t have to say anything during the spanking but you will write the lines later.”

  For some reason, I think his ultimatum might be somehow a better deal than my current situation. But after listening carefully to his proposal, I realize either way he’ll still be giving me all of the spanking. Only with the latter option I’d have a sore hand along with a sore butt.

  “Okay,” I finally murmur in a defeated way. Though I don’t specify which option I want to take, even Justin must realize I’m not that stupid.

  “Alright, then, so you’re ready to keep counting. Go ahead then. We were on six.”

  I bristle. “I thought we were on seven.”

  “If we were, you get an extra one for being difficult just now.”

  I let out a moan of anguish at the injustice, even though I’m not really sure if we’re on six or seven anyway, and then carry on counting, gritting out, “Yes, sir, no, sir, sorry, sir.” We make it to eight and nine. While I’m torn between wanting to say everything as fast as possible to get the spanking over with, I also need a break between blows. My ass needs a chance to recover from each horrible, stinging strike of that nasty, evil hairbrush.

  “Ten!” I cry through snot and tears. “Yes, sir, no, sir, I’m sorry, sir!” I put extra emphasis on the sorry part, in hopes he’ll take pity on me and go a bit easier. Instead, I feel the tops of his fingers sliding into the waistband of my panties, and my whole body goes rigid. “What are you doing?” I demand, even more outraged than I was before, if that were actually possible.

  “You’re getting the last five on the bare,” he informs me nonchalantly. “To really drive the message home. Not that these little cotton undies were offering much protection before, but I think having your sore, red butt bared for the rest of your spanking won’t be something you’ll be forgetting anytime soon.”

  “No, please…!” I start in, but it’s hopeless. The panties are already down around my thighs, and the hairbrush is crashing down on my poor, most likely mutilated butt. I know I’m supposed to say eleven, but I really don’t want to, the injustice of this all is just too much. Having him bare my ass to beat it is completely humiliating, yet I’m so close to it all being over.

  “Eleven.” My voice is more stony than it had been before. “Yes, sir, no, sir, I’m sorry, sir.” You can do this, Jaden, I give myself a little pep talk. Almost there. So what if my butt along with everything that came with it sticking up in Justin’s face is probably the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me in my whole life, at least it will be over soon.

  We get to twelve, and then thirteen. Before he brings fourteen down upon my stinging, aching butt cheeks, Justin asks, “Now, we’re not going to have a repeat performance of any of your earlier behavior, are we, Miss Jaden?”

  I don’t even know what specific behavior he’s talking about. I also don’t really care at this point and just promise him no. Then I get fourteen. It might be the hardest one yet, and it comes down closer to my thighs, which I’m beginning to realize is the absolute worst place to have a hairbrush smacked against. Fifteen comes on the other side, that same sting shooting all the way up my body and down my legs at the same time, but I manage to say what I’m supposed to say. Then I breathe a tentative sigh of relief, not daring to fully believe it’s really over. After all, I’m still over Justin’s knee, sobbing uncontrollably at this point and a complete mess.

  “Are you done now?” I finally shudder out, slightly afraid to hear the answer. “Can I get up now?”

  “The spanking’s all over,” Justin says, his tone completely different now, soothing and soft. “But I want you to tell me why I had to spank you, and how you’re going to improve your behavior in the future to avoid a repeat of your little trip over my lap.”

  I should have known it wasn’t going to be that easy to just get up and walk away. He’s going to make me give myself a lecture, all while still having my
throbbing bare butt sticking up into his face.

  “For smoking,” I whimper out, trying to get away with saying as little as possible.

  “Oh, oh, oh, this was for a lot more than smoking, young lady. This was for your attitude, for skipping school, for making me come to the school at three o’clock to pick you up and you weren’t even there. When you make an arrangement to meet someone somewhere, Jaden, you show up, and if you can’t show up, do you know what you do?”

  “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” I say, a bit spitefully now, simply for the fact that I’m getting this stupid lecture on top of the spanking.

  “Excuse me, young lady? What did you just say? Are you getting smart with me again?” His voice goes from soothing to stern so quick I’m almost not sure if it’s the same person whose legs I’m spread across. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but you’re still turned over my knee, and I could very well give you another hairbrush paddling if that’s what you want. Or maybe you want me to take off my belt?”

  “No, sir,” I squeak quickly, horrified at myself for almost earning another onslaught of thrashing against my poor bum. As if it hadn’t already been through enough today. “I don’t want that. I’m sorry, sir.”

  “You call, that’s what you do. When you can’t show up somewhere you said you were going to be, you call the person you were going to meet. And as for school, I better not hear about you missing so much as a second of classes ever again. I get up early to drive you there not for you to blow it off, do you hear me? If I get one more call from the school secretary saying you didn’t show up after I just dropped you off, you will get a strapping with my belt that will make this little spanking you got right now seem like a cakewalk, you got that? And you won’t be nice and cozy over my knee either. Instead, I will bend you over the desk in my office, pull your panties down to your ankles, take off my belt, and then whip your little butt with it until you’re so red and sore, you won’t be sitting for a week. Now, do you understand that, or do you think I’m just kidding around this time like you did the last time?”

  I roll my tongue in my mouth, a bit indignant at the fact he seems to be making fun of me, but there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. So I just mumble out, “I understand, sir,” as obediently as ever, just wanting off his freaking lap.

  “And do you understand why I had to spank you today?”

  “Yes, sir,” I draw out, almost bored at this point.

  “Okay, then, I want to hear it.”

  God, he’s really starting to irritate me. “Hear what?”

  “Why I had to spank you.”

  Freaking hell. Now it seems like we’re just going in circles. “Um, because I was smoking. I skipped school. Um… I didn’t meet you there at three o’clock. I stole those sunglasses…”

  There’s a pause, and then he says quietly, “I forgot about those sunglasses. I will be confiscating those, young lady, you know that, right?”

  “Yeah, I kind of figured,” I mumble. I hadn’t, but I figured he would take the cigarettes, so him taking the sunglasses too comes as no surprise. At least he didn’t find the ChapStick.

  “Okay, listen, I know you want to get off my lap, so I’m just going to tell you the real reason I gave you a spanking today. And it’s because I care about you.”

  The silence seems to take over the room, making me uneasy. “You have a funny way of showing it,” I say, trying to break the tension with my version of a joke.

  “Why? Because you didn’t like being spanked? That is the whole point, Jaden. The more you don’t like it, the more I hope trying to avoid it will steer you to the right path. Because that’s what I want for you, you know that? I want you to succeed, and you can if you just apply yourself. I know you can.”

  “Okay,” I say, my feelings struggling to get the better of me, to melt the little ice wall I built up around my heart. “So can I get up yet?”

  Justin sighs, seemingly unsure what to make of my stoic composure when the subject turned too mushy. “You can get up, but your punishment’s not over. I want you in time out for the next thirty minutes, which means nose to the wall in the corner, hands on your hand, and butt left bare.”

  I barely stifle a groan. “Are you serious?”

  “You keep asking me that, yet none of what I’ve said has been a joke so far, has it? Yes, I’m serious, Jaden, I want you in that corner and I’m going to go downstairs to make dinner. And if you’re not exactly how I left you when I come back, you’ll get another ten with the hairbrush, so don’t risk it. After dinner, you’ll have your shower and go straight to bed. No TV, no laptop, am I making myself clear to you, Miss Jaden?”

  I bite my lower lip, suck in some air through my top teeth. How badly I want to tell him where to go, yet instead all I say is, “Clear as crystal, sir.”

  “You see that? You catch on pretty quick.” He then takes me by the arm and pulls me to my feet. He proceeds to drag me to the corner as best he can with my ugly Capri pants all bunched at my feet, my panties still around my thighs. “Lace your hands behind your head,” he says, putting them that way himself. “We’ll try this school thing again tomorrow. See how much of this lesson actually sticks.”

  He leaves me there like that, forehead resting against the wall, arms making a diamond shape behind my head. My sore butt is on fire but I’m unable to even rub it, because there’s no way I’m letting Justin catch even a hair on my body out of place when he walks in, and chancing another encounter with that hairbrush.

  Chapter Ten

  The rest of the week passes without incident. I wake up early, Justin drives me to school, I go to my classes, I come home, do homework, and go to bed. Though I’d like to go to the beach, most nights I’m too tired and just stay home on the computer, surfing the web and watching videos on YouTube. Though I found another girl at school who also smokes, I only smoke the ones I bum behind the bleachers at the school during lunch. I don’t dare bring one of them home, though I wouldn’t mind a smoke on the nights when I’m bored out of my mind, but too tired to actually do anything about it.

  Justin mostly stays in his office, posting articles for the website he blogs for. He really only comes out at night to check my homework and prepare dinner, which usually consisted of rice and some vegetables with some chicken or fish thrown in there for good measure. I usually manage to gag down a few bites to be polite. Later, I ravage the kitchen for anything sweet I can get my hands on; granola or Popsicles or individual cartons of yogurt. There was one night I even had to make do with some grapes.

  Finally it’s Friday, and I’m feeling a little stir-crazy and ready to have some fun. Justin, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to know the meaning of the word. As soon as we walk through the front door after returning from him picking me up from school, he gestures at the stairs while heading to his office himself.

  “Upstairs, Jaden, homework,” he says distractedly. This is exactly what he says every day as soon as we get home.

  “Are you for real, man? It’s Friday.” I give a frustrated wave of my arms. “I have all weekend to do my homework.”

  Justin stops, turns, almost confused, like he wasn’t prepared for me to require any further attention. “Wouldn’t you rather have it done and out of the way?”

  I narrow my eyes at him and make my mouth go a little slack in a way that says it should have been obvious. “No,” I finally draw out pointedly.

  “Well, I’d rather you do it anyway. I’ll be out in a little while to check it, right now I’m in the middle of an important article…”

  With that, he hurries off to his stupid mystery office. I still haven’t even seen the inside of it. This leaves me to flounce myself down on the couch in a huff. Screw my damn homework! I’ve been working my ass off all week! I deserve a little break! Besides, it’s not like Justin said I had to do it.

  I flip on the TV instead, but there’s nothing on. Then I go to the kitchen to check the fridge and the cupboards. As usual the
re’s nothing but a bunch of nuts and seeds and other boring ass so-called superfoods to eat. Jesus, Jaden, how has your life come to this? Just a couple of weeks ago I was out crashing parties, robbing cars, and picking pockets, then using any loot to sleep in till noon at the nearest cheap motel. Now I’m just your average suburban teenager, staring at the tube and crunching celery sticks.

  I remember again that today is Friday, and Justin had said I had a nine o’clock curfew on non-school days. I suppose I could go out, maybe hit up the beach or even find the same type of party I used to crash. It would be better than sitting around here, and as far as I can tell, I won’t be breaking any of Justin’s silly rules, as long as I get back before curfew anyway.

  I go upstairs to change into my homemade rockabilly mini-dress with a bikini under it. Then I head out the door and toward the beach. I’m not there twenty minutes before I get word of a party over on Swarthmore Avenue. Immediately I feel myself itching to get back into my old environment.

  I have to ask directions a few times, but it isn’t long until I find the place. It’s in a swanky neighborhood with houses twice the size of Justin’s. The street is lined with high reaching palm trees on either side, reminding me of pillars leading up to a castle.

  Even though I can tell all the kids here are loaded, I’m not really in the mood for robbing anyone tonight. Honestly, all I really want is a smoke and maybe some temporary companionship. Almost everyone here is dancing to house music with big red Solo cups in their hands. Eventually, I spot a small group of dark-clad hipsters in the corner, who all seem to be drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. I sidle into the group like I belong there, ask if I can get a drag of that.

  “Sure,” says the guy in dark-framed glasses and an asymmetrical haircut, handing me whatever it is he’s smoking. “You can have that one.”

  It’s a shitty clove, but I take it anyway, listening to their banter about GMOs and other world travesties. It isn’t long before I’m sighing with boredom and wandering off to find something else to do. Really, all I want is to veg out in front of the TV with some junk food and my old friend Carly, but I haven’t talked to her since a week or so before moving in with Justin. I wonder if she’s alright, and if her and her boyfriend Billy have gone to Texas yet like they’ve been planning.