30 July 2003

Story: One Week Later

Misc story.  Stephanie drinks too much and allows her friend to help her get the guilt out.

One Week Later...
by Breanna Carter

I had always heard the saying “if you do that, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to sit for a week” but I never truly understood it. Could one really spank a kid so hard that they wouldn’t be able to sit for a week? I mean, sure, with a cane or something, that’d leave marks for a good while. But really now, in this America place, we don’t usually keep canes in our basements to use on the kids. Perhaps a belt, hairbrush, maybe even a paddle... and those things could probably hurt for a night or two, but it really wouldn’t make it where you couldn’t sit for a week. But the threats seemed to be good enough, cause the kids wouldn’t do what they were told not to. I guess whatever works.

I learned that this was true, though, one weekend whenever I had a bright idea. I’m not always the brightest crayon in the box, and sometimes I found myself in trouble for not thinking before I reacted... you know, look before you leap? Yeah, I wasn’t always too great about that. But it never bothered me much, cause for the most part I never got caught. Believe me, my mom wouldn’t be too thrilled with some of the stuff I’ve done...

The last day of my sophomore year, I wanted to experience something different: getting drunk. Ah, yes... the sensation of laying in front of the toilet all night as you puke your guts out. Well, I was curious, just wanted to try it. Wanted to see what would happen whenever I was drunk. I mean, I was indeed 16 years old, and I had never gotten wasted before. I’d drank, really never gotten a buzz. This would be something fun to try.

So that night I walked to my friend’s house, drank lots of alcohol, got myself shitfaced and almost raped. But I wasn’t raped, just almost raped, and it wasn’t cool. That night I threw up everything I had eaten the entire day, probably stuff from the day before, too. The next morning my head ached and I was still drunk.

“You seem... different,” my friend, Wesley, said that evening as I stumbled into work a little late. I was always a good 20 minutes early for work. Never since I had begun working there had I been late.

I just shrugged.

“What’d you do last night?”

“Partied too hard,” another friend answered for me.

I was too tired to do anything other than glare.

“Partied?” Wes said, raising his eyebrows.

I shrugged again.

We left it alone at that as I walked to my cashier position and stared at him from a distance, his eyes fixed on me worriedly. Wes was 21, a few inches taller than me, baby blue eyes, brown hair, and an adorable grin. For a while there, I had a crush on him. The crush faded, though, as we became closer friends and I realized that we could never do more than just be friends. But it was okay cause that was better than nothing.

I went through the night, drowsily ringing people’s stuff up, trying to act enthused whenever I told them to have a good evening, fucking up the amount of change I gave people back. You can imagine how relieved I was whenever I was told to go on my break. I turned the light off above my register and clocked out and made my way to the back of the building where I plopped down on the steps. I put my knees up close to me and looked out across the empty parking lot, wishing that I felt a little better. I felt so sick I couldn’t even eat...

“Hey,” the voice behind me said, causing me to jump nearly three feet in the air and have a heart attack.

“Jesus Christ...” I muttered.

“No, not quite, but close enough,” Wes said and plopped next to me. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great,” I said, so tired that I missed the sarcasm.

“What happened last night?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“Don’t worry bout it, Wes.”

He paused then said, “but I am worried about it. You don’t look so great...”

“I don’t feel so great,” I replied, looking at the ground rather than him.

He didn’t say anything, just sat there next to me, keeping me company since I felt so lonely...

“I got drunk,” I finally spat out, looking at him now, gazing into his deep blue eyes. He just looked back at me, urging me to continue. “I... I stayed at my friend’s house and we drank, and drank, and drank... it was lots of stuff, and her boyfriend was over there and his friend was over there and..” I broke off, a knot welling in my throat.

Wesley sat there listening. “And..?”

“And... I don’t remember half of what happened, but.. I know... we... er... I know he touched me... and did some stuff... and... yeah.” I couldn’t look at him any longer. His face was full of concern, worry, hurt... lots of stuff. The concrete was more dull.

“Did he hurt you... or do anything you didn’t want him to do?” Wes asked me, his voice now showing that he was ready to kick some ass...

“No. I just kept drinking stuff... kept telling them they could do what they wanted.”

“Wow.” There was silence for a moment. “You could have gotten raped..” he said, suddenly.

“I know,” I said, a tear slipping down my cheek.

He put his arm around my shoulder. “Steph... you can’t do stuff like that..”

“I know,” I murmured again.

We didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, just sat there, his arm around me providing me with all the protection I needed. Except protection from that stupid guilt that was inside me.

After my thirty minute break was over, I stumbled back to my register to finish of my last two hours before I could go home and get some more sleep, and maybe eat something cause my stomach was growling but I was still afraid that I’d throw up. But the two hours dragged along, creeping by slowly. And finally, FINALLY, my shift was over and I let a manager count out the money, give me my tip, and then I headed towards the back door, only to meet Wes on the way there.

“Hey,” he said, still having that concerned look on his face. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine...”

“Parents still out of town?”

I nodded.

“If you need anything, you have my number, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, blushing a bit. He walked me out to my car.

“Steph, you know that you shouldn’t have gotten drunk like that..” he said, causing a bigger pit in my stomach to form.

“I know, Wes... and I feel super bad about it... I... I don’t know what came over me. I guess I just...” I broke off, not knowing the exact words I wanted to say.

He just hugged me. “Have a good night, okay? Get some rest.”

I nodded and gave a slight grin back.

*****

The next morning I woke up feeling guiltier than ever. Yes, I had indeed gotten drunk, and yes, I had indeed hurt my liver really badly, almost got raped, and worried the hell out of Wesley. I had pulled off a lot in two days, and I felt horrible.

I stumbled to the kitchen and fixed a glass of ice water. My hands were shaking like crazy. I just felt so guilty for what I had done and...

My thoughts broke off by the loud ringing of my phone next to me. That definitely didn’t make the fact that I was shaking any better. My heart started pounding like crazy.

“H-hello?” I said.

“Heya honey!” my mom said on the other end of the line.

“Oh, uh, hi Mom.”

“How are you?”

“Great!”

“That’s good. Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great.”

“Good good. Well, if you need anything you know the number. Give me a call tonight before you go to work.”

“Sure thing.” I yawned as I hung up the phone. If I was feeling guilty before, I felt much worse now.

I looked at the phone in my hand. Well, if there was anything I could do to help myself feel better, I could ask Wesley. He was super smart, knew the answer to many dumb questions like that. My hands still shaking, I dialed his number on my phone.

“Hello?” the groggy voice answered.

“Hey, Wes?” I said, my own voice very shaky as I was nervous and guilty as hell..

“Yeah?”

“It’s me, Stephanie..”

“Oh, hey,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Uhmmm, well... since you know the answer to everything, I was wondering... Cause i feel super guilty about what I did... And I just wanna make the guilt go away...”

He waited for me to go on, but when I did not, he sighed softly. “Well,” he began, “um, I know something that’d help the guilt go away, but I’m not sure if you’d go for that. Why exactly do you feel guilty? Cause you got away with it?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then you’d have to tell your parents. That’s the only thing I can think of.”

I thought to myself. “Is... is that all?” I said, the knot growing tighter and tighter.

“Either that, or, I could punish you..” he said, the words sounding as if he felt awkward.

“Um,” I said, not exactly sure what he meant.. “how?”

“Look... to not feel guilty you’d have to be punished for what you did, and you’ll have to result to your parents for that... unless you want me to.” He paused.

Obviously, he avoided my question. “My mom won’t be home for another week... I can’t stand the guilt that long...”

He didn’t answer me.

“Wes?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d.. p-punish me?”

“If you’d want that.”

I let the thought sink in for a moment. “Okay,” I said, thinking that his “punishment” would be grounding me or something, lecturing me about what I did wrong and then telling me how much he worried about me until I was crying and he pulled me onto his lap to tell me that everything was okay, cause I was okay and not hurt. “I’ll take your punishment.”

I could tell he was nodding. “Okay, then. Ima come over, okay? Where do you live?”

I told him the directions to my house as my heart pounded so loudly inside of me that I couldn’t hear myself think.

“Okay, I’ll be there in about 10 minutes.”

“K.” I paced around the livingroom, my wide legged jeans sweeping the floor. My nerves were so on edge.. I was so nervous...

The ringing doorbell ten minutes later made me more nervous, but I was determined not to show it as I opened up the door and saw Wesley standing there.

“Hey,” I said, moving out of the way and inviting him in.

“Hi.” He stepped inside the door and I shut it behind him then we walked inside the livingroom. “Okay,” he said, looking me straight in the eyes. “You know what you did was wrong, and you’re going to accept what I do, right?”

I nodded.

“Good girl. Have a seat.”

I sat down on the couch and looked up at him. I now felt small as his giant figure gazed at me. “Young lady... you know that drinking is wrong. You are 16 years old and that’s way too young to be doing any of that kind of stuff.”

I nodded, feeling really bad about what I had done and looking down at the floor.

“Look at me,” he said, sternly. I lifted my head back up and stared into his blue eyes that were blazing with fire. “You could have gotten arrested, or raped, or passed out, or even worse. Do you realize that?”

I thought on this for a moment but shook my head. “I didn’t think about that...”

“Didn’t think? Steph... come on, you’re a big girl... you know what drinking does to you. I can’t believe that you would do something this irresponsible and immature.”

I wanted to look down at the floor again rather than face his disappointment.

“I’m so disappointed in you. You knew better, and I know you knew better.”

I nodded. “I know. I’m sorry..” I muttered.

“I know your sorry, but think about how much more sorry you’d be if you were in jail right now, or in the hosiptal, or pregnant.”

He paused for a moment letting the thoughts of any of that happening sink in. Him punishing me sure wasn’t making me feel any less guilty...

“I have to punish you for this... you understand that, right?”

I nodded.

“All right,” he said, reaching a hand out to me. I took his hand without thinking and now stood up facing him. He sat down on the couch where I was. “Pull down your pants,” he ordered.

“Ex-excuse me?”

“Pull down your pants, Stephanie.”

My heart nearly stopped. “Uhmmmm....”

“Stephanie, now!” he said sternly. “You got drunk the other night, and you are going to get punished for it and if you don’t pull down your pants I’ll do it for you.”

I gave him my best puppy face but it had no effect on him. I undid my pants and let them fall to the ground and stood there, looking at him.

He nodded and led me towards him by taking my left arm in his hand, then pulling me over his lap.

“What you did, was very dangerous and very illegal,” he said. I felt his fingers at the waistband of my panties and then felt them being tugged down to my knees. My body quivered as he did this. My bottom was now exposed to Wesley, one of my closest friends. “You know I only do this because I care about you, right?”

I nodded as best as I could, my hands gripping the sofa with all my life due to fear of what was about to happen.

“I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you, Steph. You’re too good of a friend to lose over something so stupid, okay?” I felt his right hand resting on my bare bottom and his left was on my back, making sure I was held down securely.

SMACK!!!!!!

I jumped and yelped from pain. “Owwwwwwwww,” I exclaimed, honestly not expecting it to hurt as bad as it did. I kept my hands planted firmly onto the sofa though. I deserve this, I kept telling myself.

He spanked me a good 30 or so times, causing me to exclaim “ow” nearly everytime he did so.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!!!!!! he finished, then rested his hand on my now glowing bottom.

I whined like crazy. “It hurts,” I moaned.

“I know it does. Think about this next time you decide you want to drink.” With that, he lifted his right hand back up.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!!

“I don’t EVER want you to drink that much again, do you understand me??” SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!!

“Owwwwwww. Yessssss,” I whined, refraining from kicking or crying out in pain.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!!

“Owwww, owwww.. owwwwwwwww!”

He continued spanking me, I, not fully crying yet, but still whining and on the verge of tears.

He stopped for another moment, allowing me to regain my composure a bit and resting his hand once again on my now stinging and aching bottom.

“Underage drinking is a crime, Steph. No more alcohol til you’re 21, okay?”

“I won’t, I won’t,” I whined, my backside stinging really really badly at this point in time.

“I do hope you won’t,” he said then began spanking me again.

By this time my bottom was stinging like crazy and his hand was hitting me so rapidly that I could think of nothing but the pain in my bottom and the fact that he was fussing at me cause I got drunk and how sorry I really was. Finally, the spanking settled and he rested one hand on my bottom, rubbing it slightly, and the other he rubbed my back with as I laid there crying. “Shhhh, shhhh, it’s okay, Stephanie,” he said in a soothing voice. “It’s all over now, honey. It’s okay.”

I laid there for a few minutes unmobile, just crying, whether it was more out of guilt or pain, I wasn’t sure.

Finally, he pulled my panties back up and gathered me into his arms and rocked me back and forth. “I’m sorry, Steph,” he said softly. “It’s going to be okay. Shhhh shhhh. You’re forgiven. I know you’re sorry. I know you won’t do it again. Calm down, babygirl..”

I muttered apologies as my head laid buried into his chest. But he just shushed me and continued rocking me and soothing me til I nearly fell asleep in his arms.

“Do you feel better now?” he asked after I was all cried out and finally forgiven.

“Yeah,” I said. “I really am sorry for drinking so much though.. and I definitely won’t do it again.”

He smiled. “I know. I care about you lots, though, Steph. I don’t want you to hurt yourself like that again, or I’ll have to spank you again, worse.”

I nodded. He got up from his spot on the couch and made his way towards the door, me following him. “Hey Wes?”

“Yeah?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Thanks.”

He grinned. “No problem,” he said then gave me a hug and walked out of the door.

After he left, I sat down on the couch with much trouble, as my bottom still stung like crazy. I decided to stand back up and have a look at it, to notice that it was indeed bruising. Whoa.. I had never known that a hand could bruise like that... I pulled my pants and such back up and sat back down on the couch, wincing from the pain. In three hours, I’d have to go to work. I desperately hoped that I wouldn’t ache so much at work...

But, I went to work, and I still ached. I went to bed that night, and had to sleep on my stomach. The next afternoon I sat on the couch and it still hurt. Wes gave me very consoling looks at work everytime he saw me wince, but I just rolled my eyes at him and grinned. It wasn’t so bad, but of course, that was whenever I realized that whenever parents said they’d make it to where you couldn’t sit for a week, it was true. Cause me, I could sit after a week, but for a couple of days there, I wouldn’t have doubted it if I would have been standing for a while.

Needless to say, I didn’t drink much after that.

05 July 2003

Story: Running Away

Misc story.  Krys ran away from home and her friend is worried about her.  He assesses the situation and decides that it's necessary for her to return, but when she resists, he takes stricter measures.

Running Away
by Breanna Carter

“When was the last time you ate?” Wesley said as the two of us sat in the back of our work, discussing the previous weekend.

I had finally gotten the weekend off.. and damned if my mom didn’t let me go to the concert! I was so pissed I ran away from home. But that didn’t stop me from going to work that night and asking for the week off, and talking to my friend, Wes, a 22 year old cutie that seemed like an older brother to me at sometimes, though I definitely wished for more.

I just shrugged at the question.

“You need to go home,” he finally said.

“I’m not going home,” I said in a determined voice. “I’ve been gone for the weekend and I’ll always be gone. I’m 16 and I won’t let my mom treat me like this!”

“You’re only 16, she is still your mother and you need to respect her wishes. Stop being immature about it, Krystalyn. Just go home.”

“I’m not going,” I said, folding my arms.

“You haven’t eaten, haven’t slept much... You’re hurting yourself more than helping. I’m sure your mom is worried sick. It’ll be easy, just go back and apologize for being so stupid.”

“You make it seem so easy,” I said, letting my arms drop. I was so worn out. I had slept two nights in a dark corner of 59th place, the hangout for kids my age where concerts were held all the time. I wanted to go home and sleep in my own bed and stuff, but I wasn’t about to tell Wes that. “I can’t just go back home...”

“It’ll be easier than what you’re doing now.”

I wasn’t convinced. I just sat there, unmoving.

“Well, Krys... you have to go back home. Running away is illegal anyway, and it’s dumb. I’m not going to sit here and watch you starve yourself or get yourself hurt. So, you’re going home.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m--”

“Krystalyn, you are going home if I have to drag you into my car and take you there myself. Now, we can be civilized and I’ll give you a ride, or I can drag you kicking and screaming.”

I folded my arms again, not speaking.

Wes stood up. “Come on,” he said, walking towards his car then looking back at me. I had not moved an inch. “Krys... come on,” he urged again, only to get no reply from me.

“I’m not going.”

He didn’t argue, just came by me and grabbed my arm, trying to pick me up. I kept my weight to the ground. I had learned how to deal with people like this from a self defense class. Well, not necessarily people like this, but people who tried to get me to do something I didn’t want to do.

He finally got me standing up, but that wasn’t going to help me get to his car. I grabbed the nearest thing attached to the building and held on for dear life as he tugged on me, then tried prying my fingers off.

“Krystalyn, let go!” he yelled.

“No!” I yelled back, being hardheaded. Finally he let go and I held onto the object, still for dear life. He didn’t do anything for a moment, just glared at me.

“Krystalyn, get in the car.”

“No.”

“I’m telling you for the last time, get in the car, or I’ll give you something you won’t forget..”

I just shook my head.

SMACK!!!!

A sharp spank landed right on my bottom, causing me to jump and scream, OW!!!!

I had taken my hands away for a split second and that’s when he grabbed me, kicking and screaming, to the place where we were sitting and hauled me over his lap.

“STOP IT!” I screamed.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!

“I’m just giving you what you deserve, Krystalyn. If you would have gotten in the car like I said, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!

“Owwww, owwwwww!” I wailed. “Let me GO!”

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!

“Wesleyyyyy, sto-oppp. I’ll get in the car, I willlll,” I cried, sounding like a two year old.

He didn’t lay off. “I’m sorry, Krys, but I have to do this. You know that you shouldn’t run away, and I care about you too much to see you destroy yourself like that.”

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!

“Owwwwwwwwww, arghhhh, it hurtsssss,” I whined.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!

I stopped kicking. “I’m sorrrryyyyy,” I whined, tears finally streaming down my face.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!

“Are you really sorry?”

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!

“Yessssss,” I said, now bawling like a baby.

SMACK!!! SMACK!!! SMACK!!! SMACK!!! SMACK!!!

He lifted me up from over his lap and gave me a big hug. “I”m sorry I had to do that, Krystalyn,” he said in his soothing voice. “But it’s all over now, okay? I care about you too much to see you hurting yourself.” I hugged him back while rubbing my bottom with my left hand.

“I’m sorry, Wes,” I said, sniffling.

“Are you ready to go home now?”

I nodded, really not ready, but not about to fight with him again.

“All right, let’s go,” he said, getting up and hugging me closer, then opening the passenger door for me and letting me in. I buckled up and then wiped my eyes. What a weird night.

01 July 2003

Story: Too Much

Misc Story.  Emma drinks too much, and her guardian punishes her.

Too Much
by Breanna Carter

The phone rang loudly through the house, echoing through the empty hallway. Trey groaned and looked at the clock that read it was 2am. He answered the phone with a tired scratchy voice.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Trey?” the man on the other line said.

“Yeah,” Trey said irritably.

“This is Josh, Jaina’s brother.” Ahh, Trey thought to himself. The girl that Emma was staying the night with. “Look, Emma is completely trashed... she can barely walk, and Jaina isn’t much better. She’s trying to talk us into letting her drive home, but we won’t let her. She’s just whining that she wants to go home...”

Trey sighed. He knew that Emma would get in a mess like this. After all, it was the last day of school and Jaina was known for her parties. He felt the anger and disappointment rise through his body. She had lied to him... said that it was just a sleepover and they wouldn’t do anything. True, he wasn’t her father, or even her brother really, just a friend who took her in whenever her father was hauled off to jail. But he couldn’t let something like this slide. Emma was only 16.. drinking was still illegal. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

The ride over there he listened to soft music in the background, classical to calm him. He finally arrived to the two story house to see two boys sitting on the front porch.

“Hey,” one of them said.

Trey recognized him from school a couple of years back. These guys are at least 22, Trey thought to himself, wondering why the hell they would buy alcohol for kids, but not wanting to ask because he was surpressing his anger. “Where’s Emma?”

“She’s in here,” the taller one answered, motioning for Trey to follow him inside. He entered the lovely house, already seeing Jaina half asleep on the couch, moaning. He had the feeling that this would be a long night.

He was led up the stairs to where Emma sat on the bathroom floor, head in the toilet. She wasn’t speaking, just sitting there. A boy was behind her, patting her on the back, trying to make sure she was okay. Trey moved in. “Hey, Em?” he asked. She looked towards him, mouth dropped open. She was stone drunk. “Come on, let’s go home.” Emma nodded and tried to stand up, only to fall back over.

“Trey,” she asked, words slurred. “Am I drunk? Why are you here? I’m really drunk, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you’re drunk, and I’m here to take you home. Come on,” he said, reaching out for her lifeless hand. Attempting to pull her up was almost futile, so he just picked her up, cradling her small body against his, and carried her outside to the car. After gently seating her down, he made his way over to the driver’s seat where he drove, the classical music still playing.

“Trey,” she asked again. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad, I’m upset.”

“I’m really drunk, aren’t I?”

“Yes you are.”

“Have I already asked you that?”

“Yes you have.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How much did you drink?” Trey asked, figuring that she wouldn’t know, but it was worth a try.

“Ummmm, some vodka and some whiskey, and some other stuff... lots of stuff. I drank too much didn’t I?”

“That is a lot.”

“What time is it?”

“2:30.”

“Were you asleep?”

“No,” he lied.

“I could’ve drove home.”

“No, you couldn’t have. You’re drunk off your ass..”

“Yeah, I could’ve. I’m okay, I really am.”

He pulled into the driveway and helped her out of the car. “Trey,” she said, “I feel sick.”

He carried her to the bathroom where she sat with her head in the toilet for a good 30 minutes, finally throwing up twice. She whined, feeling like shit. He put her hair back in a ponytail and wiped her face and neck off with a wet washcloth.

“It’s going to be okay,” Trey said in his soothing voice. “Shhh, don’t cry,” he rubbed her back, worried to death about her. He desperately hoped that she hadn’t drank too much. After all, she was only 16.

“I wanna go home, and go to sleep,” she muttered.

“We are home. Come on, we can go to sleep. Can you walk?”

“No walk,” she moaned, beginning to crawl through the house.

“Well then, come on, let’s go to the den,” Trey said, crawling next to her. He felt like he was babysitting a 5 year old instead of looking after a 16 year old. He lead her to the den where he had already laid towels on the floor by a trashcan that sat next to the couch. He helped her up to the couch and said, “if you feel bad again, just throw up into the trashcan, okay?”

She made a noise but her eyes were shut and she was nearly asleep.

Trey sat at his desk in the den, writing. That’s what he did best. He listened to country music now, instead of classical. Yes, good old Trey listened to country music, although he didn’t look like it.

They sat like that for a few hours, Emma trying to throw up every so often, but to no avail.

Finally, around 6, Emma woke up. She looked around the room with a confused look on her face. “Did you come pick me up last night?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Did I throw up?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.” He walked towards her.

“Why?”

“Because I threw up, and they called you. But thanks for picking me up.” Her body felt weak and she was dizzy, hardly able to see anything.

“Do you remember last night?”

“Vaguely.”

“How much did you drink?”

“I split a bottle of vodka with Jaina and Marie, and we drank some watermelon pucker, and then we had some whiskey and coke... but by the second glass, I don’t remember anything afterwards.”

Trey nodded. “Did anything bad happen, with Jaina’s older brother?”

She shook her head. “No,” she said, not looking into Trey’s eyes. “Are you really mad at me?” she asked.

“I’m upset. Go back to sleep, hun. Do you feel better?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want to go to your bed?”

“No.”

He nodded as she dozed back to sleep.

Finally around 4 that evening, she woke up almost refreshed, but regretting last night more than ever. Her stomach not only suffered from distress because of alcohol, but also that guilty feeling. She couldn’t believe that she had let Trey down like that.

He left her a note saying that he was gone to run some errands for a little while and he would be back around 6. Eat lightly, if you need me call the cell.

Her stomach rumbled now from hunger at his mention of the word food. She hadn’t infact eaten since she had dinner last night. She pulled out some crackers from the cabinets, remembering how she was always told that saltine crackers are good whenever you have to throw up.

She ate a little bit then sat down to watch tv. The events of last night passed through her mind. Taking shots of alcohol, saying she didn’t want anymore but drinking it anyway, the dizziness that she felt, how Trey came to pick her up because he cared about her, he didn’t want her driving herself. It felt horrible, her father never cared. But Trey did. Trey cared enough to make sure she didn’t drive home in that condition.

At six, as promised, Trey walked into the door. “Well hello there, sleepy head.”

Emma smiled weakly. “Hey,” she said.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, bringing some walmart sacks into the kitchen and setting them on the table.

“I’m okay,” she said, not moving from her position on the couch. Trey sat next to her and felt her forehead.

“You scared me last night, kid.”

“How come?”

“You were completely shitfaced.”

She nodded. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. Do you have a headache?”

“No.”

“Are you dizzy?”

“A little bit.”

“Maybe lying down is a good idea. But tomorrow whenever you get up I want to talk to you about this, okay?”

Emma gulped, that was the part she was dreading. But she nodded.

Trey left her alone the rest of the evening, writing a bit, reading some, listening to music and talking on the phone. Emma just sat plopped in front of the tv, feeling too bad to even get on the computer. She went to bed that night at 9:30, feeling like shit, only to be followed by Trey who felt the same way because he hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before.

*****

They sat on the couch next to one another, the tv off, no music playing. “I’m sorry. I really am. I know you’re really disappointed in me, and I feel really bad about letting you down like that. So I’m ready for whatever punishment you have to give me.”

He listened to her speak softly, even accepting the punishment that he had for her, but he wasn’t sure that she’d like what he was about to do. “Emma, you’re like a sister to me, and I love you. I don’t want you to hurt yourself like that, and whenever you lie to me, it hurts me. You knew what you were going to do before you did it, but you didn’t tell me. And I know why, because you were so stuck on doing it... But I am really let down and disappointed that you would do something like this. I don’t want this to ever happen again, am I clear?”

Emma nodded, feeling a tighter pit of guilt in her stomach.

“I’ve thought this through, Em. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I decided that the best way to deal with this would be to spank you.”

She almost choked hearing this. Sure, she’d been spanked before... even by Trey once. But it always made her feel so young and immature. She did deserve it, though, even if she was a 16 year old. She wanted to plead and beg for him to rethink his decision, surely grounding her for a month would have a greater affect, but it was too late. He already had her standing up, telling her to take down her pants.

“Trey,” she begged. “I’m sorry... please don’t do this...”

“Emma, I’m not playing games. Pull down your jeans.”

She kept a hold on the button of her jeans. “Please, don’t. I’m sorry.”

“If you don’t do it, then I will,” his voice threatened.

Emma blushed, but would not let go. “Trey... can’t we reason with one another.” After hearing her argue too much, Trey got tired of it and unbuttoned her pants himself, letting them fall to the ground. After they fell, all Emma could do was stand there in her shirt and panties and cry.

“Now, if you’d just do what I tell you then we wouldn’t have this problem,” he said, sternly, placing her across his lap. “The way you have acted is unacceptable, and by me doing this, you can be guiltless and you will have learned your lesson.” Emma wiped her eyes, waiting for his first smack to land across her bottom. Instead, she felt her panties being pulled down to her knees and her ass being exposed. This made her squirm.

“Nooo, please don’t do that..” she whined, trying to pull her panties back up. The only reply she got was a sharp smack on her ass, causing her to blush furiously and stop squirming.

“Put your hands down, Emma.”

She did as she was told, placing her hands down on the floor in front of her. She lay there for a moment, thoughts rushing over her head. She had so many feelings for Trey, he cared about her like no one else had. But she still had a crush on him like she used to because he was so darn cute. Quickly her thoughts faded as she felt him smack her ass, hard. He laid a good ten smacks on her and she tried not to fight and squirm, but they were so hard she had to. She had thought the last time she received a spanking that it was bad, but this was horrible!

“Emma SMACK, I’m very disappointed in you SMACK. You know SMACK that what you did was wrong SMACK and you did it anyway SMACK SMACK. And SMACK you LIED SMACK to me. SMACK.” He stopped lecturing and just spanked her for a little while, probably not spanking as hard as he could, but still pretty hard. She deserved this, she had done something wrong, and he was determined to show her that she would not do it again.

Meanwhile, Emma felt small across Trey’s lap. Felt small and weak, as if she was nothing. She did not cry, but instead whined and exclaimed ow everytime he spanked her. That is, until he began spanking quickly and firm, one sharp smack after another, landing on each cheek, and not giving her enough time to regain her composure after each time. Then she let a few tears fall from her eyes, squirming and trying not to fight too much, especially after she heard Trey’s warning voice. Finally, she gave up... she stopped fighting and just cried over his lap, lying limply there. He saw that she had had enough and landed the last few smacks across his friend’s ass, and then pulled her up. He held his arms around her tightly and soothed her, rubbing her bottom some to take out the sting.

“Shhh,” he said. “It’s okay, Em. I love you.” He held her there as she cried into his chest muttering apologies. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

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