Jaden's Chance

by Ashlynn Ally

  “Hey, can I borrow your cell phone to make a quick call?” I ask the first available drunk person I see. She hands over her six-hundred-dollar iPhone with abandon. In the old days, I would have made off with it like a bat out of hell, but now I just find a quiet corner and dial Carly’s number. Only it goes straight to voicemail, which means her prepaid phone is probably out of minutes.

  “Hey, girl, it’s me, but I’m only borrowing this phone for a couple minutes. Why don’t you get yourself some minutes so we can actually chat the next time I call? You won’t believe this gig I’ve got going on. Well, talk later, I guess.”

  After I hang up and return the cell phone to its owner, I feel a little sad and lonely. I mean, it’s not that I don’t appreciate Justin giving me a place to live and a chance at an education and all that. I sometimes just wish he were a tad more social. Ever since that night earlier this week when he tore the shit out of my ass, he’s barely said boo to me, and having no friends in a strange place is starting to get to me.

  I find a room with a bunch of stoners lying around on beanbag chairs watching some old Monty Python flick. I hang out there for a bit, taking the cigarette someone offers me as well as a hit from a bong. The hours creep by and when the movie ends, a new DVD is slid into the slot as darkness falls outside. With a creeping feeling, I know I have to get back to Justin’s before nine. So I sneak out of the party the same way I came, and start heading back to 1117 Sea Breeze Way.

  At least, I thought I was heading that way. The hit of pot must be messing with me, because it feels like I took a wrong turn somewhere. Suddenly nothing looks familiar or like the way I came. There’s not as many people on the streets now, and the ones I see I’m too paranoid to talk to. God, I don’t know why I bother smoking weed, I don’t even like it.

  It feels like I loop through the same neighborhoods again and again until finally I come to the beach. Too bad I have no idea which way I’m supposed to follow it. Then I end up at a bus stop, so I sit and wait for it for a while before I realize I don’t have any money. Shit, Jaden. This is getting ridiculous. Less than a week playing the part of a suburban teenager, and I’m already losing my street smarts.

  I take a chance and start heading west. Or is it east? After who knows how long of walking, I finally recognize the gas station where the bus dropped me off the first day I came here. Phew. I know where Justin’s house is from here at least. Now I only hope I’m not late, as my ass is already starting to recoil under my dress at the thought of getting another spanking. Some of my marks from the last one aren’t even gone yet, and if I sit a certain way on a hard surface, they’re still sore.

  When I walk in the front door, the lights are on in the living room, but it’s empty. I take a quick glance at the clock over the mantelpiece. Even though I hoped I wouldn’t be late at all, I’m pleasantly surprised to see it’s only nine-thirty. If I sneak upstairs and stash myself away in my room, Justin might not even realize what time I did, or didn’t, get home.

  The staircase is set up with a wall on one side and a long balustrade railing going up the other side. I have no idea if Justin is even in his room or his office. I contemplate whether I should fly up the stairs to get into the safety of my room as soon as possible, or tiptoe up slowly in case the noise rouses him from whatever it is he’s doing. I guess I settle on a combination of the two, fast but quiet. I’m just about at the top and already complimenting myself on my success when I hear a voice behind me and my throat drops into my stomach, stopping me in my tracks.

  “Jaden, get down here.”

  My eyes close and my mouth winces into a grimace as I let out a long sigh between my teeth. When I risk a glimpse over the top of my shoulder, I see Justin planted there firmly on the living room floor, his arms folded across his chest as usual.

  “Right now, young lady. You turn around, and come right back down those stairs the way you came.”

  I can run up into the hallway and then onto the balcony and down the trellis. But with Justin already here on the ground floor, I know I won’t get very far. In fact, he’d probably be waiting for me at the bottom of the trellis when I came down, and then I’d most likely be in even more trouble.

  “What time is it, young lady?” he asks, as I turn around and start my slow descent down the stairs. My feet drag at the thought of going over his knee and getting my already sore bottom walloped again.

  I could make a smartass remark about how he should know how to tell time himself by now, but I know that won’t get me very far. So I draw out, “Nine-thirty,” in a high, tentative voice, glancing at the clock. I’ve come to the bottom of the stairs by now, and I want to look anywhere but at him.

  “That’s right. Nine-thirty. And what time was your curfew supposed to be?”

  “Nine,” I recite, a bit vaguely, letting my gaze continue to wander around the room.

  “Where were you?” He barks the command like a drill sergeant.

  I bite the bottom of my lip and look up at him, his chiseled face unwavering and hard. “Um, a party?” I say in a way that sounds hopeful that this bit of information isn’t going to get me into more trouble than I already am.

  “A party,” Justin repeats. “Okay. And why didn’t you let me know when you were leaving, and when you were going to be back?”

  I offer a halfway apologetic shrug. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to get permission. Besides, what were you going to do? Write me a hall pass or something?”

  Okay, too far. He grabs my arm and pulls me up close to him, and then over to the couch. “You smell like smoke,” he declares. “Have you been smoking?”

  “No,” I state in what I intend to be an innocent-sounding voice. “The other people at the party were smoking.”

  He ignores me as he drags me over to the couch, which is placed in the middle of the room by itself. Briskly, he bends me over the back of it. I’m already braced to start receiving blows.

  Instead, I feel the warm touch of his hands running up and down my sides, rumpling and then smoothing out my dress. In an instant, a different scene than what’s actually taking place runs through my head. Justin, feeling me up in a fit of passion right before he tears my clothes off and plants kisses all over my bare skin. I’m so desirable to him, he can’t keep his hands off me, his fingers sliding between my legs and parting the soft lips of my pussy…

  Chapter Eleven

  Just as my fantasy starts getting good, real-life Justin stops groping me and reaches down by my feet to grab my bag. That’s when I realize what an idiot I am. Of course he isn’t feeling me up because he finds me attractive! He’d been patting me down in an effort to recover contraband on me. I guess it’s been so long since I had any human contact, I couldn’t help but enjoy his strong, confident hands running all over my body. I’m only human, after all.

  Using my back as a table, Justin sets my own purse on top of me and starts sifting through it. Even though I’m still a little embarrassed by my silly fantasy, I also can’t help but feel somewhat triumphant that he isn’t going to find any cigarettes in my possession.

  But I guess Justin isn’t too impressed by the lack of incriminating evidence on me, considering in his eyes I’ve already done plenty else wrong. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear before, but going out is a privilege, and I expect you not only to have your homework done beforehand, but you need to let me know ahead of time where you’re going, do you understand me?”

  “How do you know I didn’t do my homework?” I ask, a little hung up on that part.

  “Jaden?” Justin drags out my name, slow and clear and slightly condescending.

  “Yes?” I try pitifully to repeat his tone of voice. Turns out it’s kind of hard to be condescending when someone has your wrists pinned behind your back and you’re bent over a couch with your face in the cushions.

  “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but you’re being punished right now.”

  “No, I kind of got that part,” I say facetiously with
a slight roll of my eyes. I guess the only advantage of being in this position right now is that he can’t see my face.

  “Then how do you respond to me when being punished, or do you need another fifteen with the hairbrush to help you remember?”

  My heart thuds in my ears as I curse myself. I can’t believe I actually forgot when I still have fading bruises from the last beating that was supposed to drive that message home.

  “Yes, sir,” I mumble.

  “What?” I hear Justin’s voice, a bit surprised. “You do need another fifteen?”

  “No, no,” I quickly clarify. “I mean, no, sir. I was answering your question from before. I was correcting myself.”

  “Okay,” Justin says firmly. “That’s better then. Now, what were you saying before about your homework? Did you do it, or didn’t you do it?”

  I hesitate, not wanting to admit the truth to him, but too afraid of what he’ll do if I lie. It’s pretty useless anyway. The untouched homework is still sitting in my school bag on the coffee table right in front of us.

  “I didn’t, sir,” I admit, trying to win points by using the word sir even though I wasn’t saying yes, no, or I’m sorry.

  “That’s what I thought,” he says, a little too gloatingly for my liking, but it’s not like there’s much I can do about it. “From now on, if you want to go out, you do your homework first. And you ask me first. You got that?”

  “Yes, sir,” I quickly grumble. I add a heavy sigh as I wonder why he makes me go through this same stuff over and over again like I’m some kind of idiot who has trouble catching onto simple concepts.

  “Since you seemed a little unclear on the rules, I’m going to let the whole not telling me, not doing your homework thing first slide this time, but you better not let it happen again in the future, you got that?”

  “Okay,” I say agreeably, momentarily hopeful that this whole thing is actually going to go better than I previously thought.

  “What?” Justin voice cracks out like a whip snapping, making my spine stiffen and my hope deflate.

  “Yes, sir,” I offer a begrudging correction, shaking my head at myself once again.

  “Slip up again and you’re getting a repeat of the fifteen with the hairbrush,” he warns, making butterflies sprout up in my belly as if a million caterpillars had all busted out of their cocoons at once. “Now, onto the issue at hand here. What did I say would happen if you got home past curfew?”

  I think back to that night in the bathroom, the soap sticking out of my mouth while Justin gave me a lay down of the law around here. I know perfectly well what it was he had said, I just don’t want to give him the gratification of answering him now.

  “I don’t remember.” I grumble this in a tone that says I really mean the opposite of whatever is coming out of my mouth, and that I know he knows it too.

  Justin doesn’t waste any time. “Well, maybe this will serve as a reminder,” he says at the same time that he pulls my dress up over my hips and snaps my panties down to my thighs. Then the smacks start coming so fast I don’t even have time to brace myself, and I’m letting out little whimpers of pain within the first few seconds.

  “Oh, please, I’m sorry, sir, I’m sorry. It hurts, stop, please.” I’m crying in a voice that sounds like a soaked dog left out in the rain, but Justin just keeps it up. The spanking is much more intense than the last one, harder and faster, and his hand is landing on the same spot in the middle of the lower part of my bare butt over and over. For once, I realize I actually want him to lecture me, just to get a break in between smacks.

  After what seems like another two hours of this, but is probably actually maybe a minute, two at the most, I’m bawling hysterically. I try to twist my body out from under his grip, while at the same time bend up my legs so my feet are at the back of my knees, trying to find some relief from the spanking. Justin still hasn’t said a word, which seems strange for him. I’m crying so hard I can barely make words anymore myself, though that doesn’t stop me from trying to beg him to stop in between my gasping sobs.

  “Pleeease… I’m soooorry… It hurrrts!” I’m wailing, still kicking my feet and trying to get free. But Justin makes it seem like no effort at all as he holds me in place and continues the spanking, the position he has me in over the couch making the skin between my thighs and my butt cheeks stretch taut and tender and therefore all the more agonizing. When he gets me in a place that already has a mark from my last spanking, I scream bloody murder, letting my head drop down now, the side of my face to the cushions, the fight going out of me. All there seems to be left for me to do is sniffle and sob.

  And then, just as soon as they started, the smacks stop, and relief sweeps over me as I’m finally able to catch my breath and collect myself a little bit. What I really want to do is rub the ache out of my backside, but Justin still has my hands pinned, and he makes no move that he’s going to let me up.

  “I take it you remember now?” he says wryly. I can almost see his facial expression in my mind—eyebrows raised, mouth curved up into the slightest bit of a smirk.

  “Yes, sir,” I whimper compliantly, hoping this spanking is over and not wanting to do anything to earn myself any more of the same.

  “So we’re not going to have this little problem with you walking in half an hour past curfew again now, are we?”

  “Nooo,” I whine, still in a lot of pain, wishing he would let me up. “And I tried to get here on time, I just got lost, and I didn’t have a clock, and I didn’t know where I was, and I couldn’t call you because I didn’t have a phone, and I really didn’t want to be late but, but…”

  My sentence falters as another sob catches in my throat. I draw my feet up to my knees again as my legs are starting to ache from standing in the same place for this long.

  “Well, maybe we need to go back to the mall and get you a cell phone. It won’t cost very much to add you to my plan. Then there won’t be any more excuses for you to show up late.”

  I go still at this, dumbfounded by my luck. Somehow, I even sort of feel fond of Justin, despite the fact he just held me down and spanked me to hysterics. “Really?” I ask, my voice perking up a bit.

  “Yes, we’ll go tomorrow but you won’t get it until Monday, seeing as how you’re going to be grounded for the whole weekend.”

  “Grounded,” I repeat, as if I’m not exactly sure what the word means.

  “Yes, grounded. That means no going out, no beach, no TV, no computer.”

  It sounds almost worse than the spanking. I feel myself start to bristle with annoyance, even though I’m pretty sure that’s not such a good idea while still bent over the couch with my bare ass at his disposal.

  “What do you think I’m supposed to do all weekend then?” I ask, trying to keep the edge rising up from my throat out of my voice.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he says unhurriedly, like he in fact does know perfectly well. “There’s always your homework, and if that’s not enough, I’m sure I can find something for you to do, though I’m not sure if it’s stuff you’re going to like doing very much.”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I won’t,” I grumble just loud enough for him to hear, wondering if I might get another smack for it.

  Instead he just says, “That’s enough,” and then he pulls me into a standing position and starts dragging me into the kitchen. “It’s time for you to sit in the corner until I fix you something to eat. I’m sure you haven’t consumed anything with any nutrition in it since breakfast time.”

  “You mean when you forced that omelet on me?” I’m still speaking softly under my breath, and by the look Justin shoots me, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t appreciate it one bit. But instead of saying anything, he just takes one of the breakfast barstools and swings it into the corner of the room, and then points at it.

  “Sit,” he commands. “I don’t want to hear another peep out of you until it’s time to eat.”

  I hang back as he tries to pull me toward the stool,
and I balk at the hard shiny seat without even so much as a little scrap of cloth to cushion it. “But last time you let me stand,” I remind him.

  “Yeah, and you might be standing this time if you weren’t mumbling sarcastic little remarks under your breath. So now you’re going to sit your sore little bottom onto that hard little stool, and maybe next time you’ll think twice before being smart with me.”

  With that, he swings me over to the stool, and then sits me down, hard. I yelp as soon as my bare skin touches the hard wood, and without even thinking about what I’m doing, I try to hop up again. Justin is quick to push me back down by the shoulders though, and all of a sudden the tears are smarting my eyes again. I use my hands pressed down against the edge of the stool seat to try to lift myself up a little and offer my poor bottom a little relief, but Justin catches onto that just as soon as I do it.

  “Uh-uh. None of that. Hands behind your head, bottom on the stool. Now!”

  Slowly, I lace my hands behind my head like I had the last time I stood in the corner, and I’m already crying from the burning pain crawling up and around my backside. “Ow, it hurts, Justin, I’m sorry,” I whine. Jeez, it’s like being spanked all over again.

  “You didn’t sound very sorry when you were mumbling under your breath a couple minutes ago, now, did you?”

  I whine out something so unintelligible even I’m not sure what I’m trying to say, other than this hurts and I don’t like this.

  “Enough of that.” Justin puts a sharp end to my sound effects. “Now, you’re going to have something to eat and then it’s straight up to bed. Grounding starts now so don’t think you’re going to sit on the computer for half the night either.”