Story: The Brat Takes After Her Sis

Part of The Brat mini series.  Now it's Aubrey's turn.

The Brat Takes After Her Sis
by Breanna Carter

"I have a surprise for you," Josh said as we ambled back into the living room.

I gave him a questioning look. "What's that?"

He handed me his keys. "Look in the backseat inside my backpack. You should find it okay."

I smiled slightly, unsure of what it could be. If it was a surprise, though, it had to be good!

I scooped the keys from his hands and skipped outside, opening the back door and digging for his backpack. He could complain about my car being a mess all, but his was just as bad! I finally found the backpack and searched through it. My heart sank as I found the surprise: A small paddle with about six holes drilled through it. Some surprise.

Walking back in the house with his backpack, I said, "I didn't find any surprises in here..."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't play that innocent act with me, Young Lady," he said in a stern voice that made my stomach do flips. "Unless you want more than I'm already giving you.."

"But Josh... Serenity is here..."

"I don't care... you saw her get spanked... I think it's only fair that..."

"Noooo!! She can't see me get spanked!!" I wailed.

He just laughed. "I'm just kidding. But you're getting spanked anyway. You need to learn how to have a better handle on your sister and to NOT call me at work unless it's an emergency!"

"But, Josh.." I stammered, trying to think of an excuse. "I didn't know..."

"Like hell you didn't know. I've told you countless times not to call at work unless it's an emergency. And if you didn't realize that what happened with Serenity wasn't an emergency... well, then, I'd like to know what you wouldn't consider an emergency."

I gulped.

He took the backpack from my hands, then revealed the paddle. It had been a board at some point. The creator probably had no idea what purpose the board would serve -- unless he was some sicko freak (like Josh and me), and made it specifically for that reason. Guess we'll never know.

"All right, Aubrey, jeans and panties down."

"Josh," I pleaded, giving it one last shot, though I knew it wouldn't work. He was persistant. "I didn't mean to." What a great attempt.

"I understand. You're still getting spanked. Pants down, and don't make me ask you again."

I gulped and fiddled with the button on my jeans, finally unbuttoning it (as he gave me a warning glare) and pulling them down to my knees. I looked back up at him again and he pointed downwards. That meant to pull the panties down, too. Now, as you can imagine, around Josh, I shouldn't really worry about the things he sees. But there's always something demeaning about a barebottom spanking, especially when you're forced to take down all clothes with him standing right there watching! Reluctantly, I tugged them down to meet my jeans and stood there, digging my toes into the carpet.

Josh sat down on the couch and grabbed my wrists, so I wouldn't be able to block anything. In other words, so I'd be as embarrassed as possible. I couldn't help but think that my younger sister was in the other room, probably spying on me and plotting to tell everyone what was happening. And if she wasn't already spying on me, the chances of her coming in were pretty high.

"Why am I spanking you, Aubrey?" he asked, looking deeply into my eyes.

"Because I called you at work when it wasn't an emergency."

"And?"

"Um, because I'm doing a bad job at handling my younger sister."

"And how are you going to fix that?"

"I'm going to start disciplining her more efficiently."

"And how are you going to learn how to do that?"

I hid a smirk. "I'm going to be spanked properly to help me learn how to do it myself."

"Very good," he answered, tugging at my wrists and letting me fall over his lap. "I expect to make quite an impression on you, dear, as I did your sister. The poor girl won't be sitting for a while and you won't either. However, since she is younger than you, you'll get it a lot worse..."

I shivered, hands in front of me and my face lying on my arms, trying not to think about what was happening.

He rested a hand on my bum, brushing it tenderly against my bare flesh. He teased me for a minute, lifting it up and placing it back down, before actually giving me the first smack. I wasn't expecting it. If Serenity hadn't been home, I would have yelped as loudly as possible, but instead, I covered my mouth, screaming into it.

"Ooowwwwww!! Joshhhh!" came my muffled whine.

"Don't 'oww Josh' me," he answered, delivering a few more. At this point I kind of felt sorry for Serenity because Josh is a strong guy and he wasn't showing mercy! Of course, then I remembered what a brat she was and that *she* was the entire reason I was getting spanked in the first place, so that made me wish that SHE was getting this spanking! Of course, all of this was in the front of my mind. In the back, I was actually enjoying myself.

"Ahhhhh!!!! It hurts!!" I pleaded, kicking slightly and keeping my mouth covered so I wouldn't scream.

"Good, it better hurt. This is what a real spanking feels like, Aubrey," he stated, whacking my sitspots with all of his might, sending my legs kicking like crazy. "What you gave Serenity was nothing, was it?"

"Nooooo," I answered.

He was only spanking me with his hand at this point, but it was already smarting like crazy. I couldn't even imagine what it'd feel like if he were using that damn paddle! But soon enough, I found out.

I felt about eight smacks delivered to my thighs and then the hand rested lightly on my bottom again. "Aubrey, do you know what this is?" he asked and slapped something down on my bottom.

I would have shrieked bloody hell if my mouth hadn't been covered. And he wasn't even hitting with all of his strength yet!! "Yess, sir!" I answered.

"Oh?" he asked, slapping it down again. "And what is it?"

"A-a p-paddle!" I stammered.

He whacked it down again. "That's right, young lady. And who is this paddle necessary for?"

"Naughty little girls like me," I answered, feeling another hearty smack.

I began crying simply because it hurt sooo badly and I just wanted him to stop, but had no idea how to make him. He didn't stop, though. My crying didn't affect him in the least. He just spanked me harder, twacking that damn thing down again and again.

"Pleaseeee," I begged, tears spilling from my eyes as I kicked furiously. "Pleaseeee, Josh, no more!!"

"If you ever call me again for something trivial," he began, not letting up with the heavy spanking, "I will use this paddle at full force and spank you til your bottom blisters, do you hear me?"

I nodded promising him through tears that I understood.

He finished up with my thighs and then sat the paddle down. Josh lifted me up and helped me to the corner, ordering me to stay there until further notice. Somewhere through my tears, I heard him walk away and heard a bedroom door shut. Then I heard him yelling at Serenity. I cried harder. My unruly sister hadn't learned her lesson, but I had!!

In the corner, I tried to lessen my crying so I could hear what was going on...

"... the computer, AGAIN?!? Did I not spank hard enough??"

"No no no, you spanked really really hard!"

"Oh? But it wasn't hard enough, I guess, since you're still disobeying, after all this time."

"Nooooo!!! Josh, don't use that on me!"

"I wouldn't have to if you'd have done as you were told."

She started crying crazily and screaming, obviously trying to escape from him.

"Serenity, you're making this harder on yourself. Now stop all this fighting and get over my lap!"

I don't know if she did it or not, but the next thing I heard was the sound of smacking and lots of loud crying. If I could hear all of this, Serenity *definitely* had heard what was going on with me! I shivered at the thought of that, listening to the spanking, trying not to get myself all riled up.

It lasted for an eternity, but maybe this time she was actually broken. She sobbed as loud as she could, screaming that she was sorry. I took slight pity for her feeling the sting in my own backside. That paddle was bloody murder on a naughty bum. But she deserved it!

Josh walked back in. "Your sis won't be able to sit down for a week," he told me, as if I couldn't have figured that out on my own. "Come here, babygirl," he told me and I turned around, seeing him sitting there on the couch, arms wide open with a smile on his face. "I love you," he told me as I sat down in his lap, feeling the sting once more, but not worrying about it. He hugged me tightly.

I pressed my head against his chest. "That was fun," I whispered, because Josh is the only one who knows about my spanking fascination.

"What was?"

I blushed. "When you spanked me. It was fun."

He chuckled slightly. "Yep, it was."

Story: The Soccer Party

Part of the Terrence/Brianna series.  Ana convinces Bri to come to the soccer party, which means that Bri has to drive her car, which she's grounded from driving.  To make matters worse, on Bri's ride home, she gets pulled over for speeding.  Yikes.

The Soccer Party
by Breanna Carter

It was our soccer team's Christmas party and according to Ana, I just *had* to go.

"Come on, Bri! You gotta come! Blake's going to be there and I want you to meet him."

"Ana, I already told you. Terrence isn't going to be home until late tonight, and I don't have any way to get there."

"But can't you just drive your car?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Come onnnn, you know where the keys are!"

Leave it to Anastasia to tempt me in such a way. "Ana, I don't wanna go, and I really don't want to get in trouble. You know what Terrence would do if he found out I used the car."

"But he won't find out, Bri. That's the thing," she coaxed. "He's going on a date, right? He left the house at six, probably didn't make it to her house until 6:30. He'll stay there a few minutes, take her to dinner, then a nine o'clock movie, won't make it home until at least eleven, probably not til midnight. That's PLENTY of time! And if you're not having fun, you can leave early. Besides, you're the team captain. How many times do you think there's been a party that the team captain didn't go to?"

She sort of had a point. I mean, Terrence wouldn't be home til late, and the team captain always went to the party.. But I really didn't want to deal with the Jayna drama. "I dunno..."

"Pleaseeeeee," she begged. "I realllly want you to meet Blake!"

I sighed. "Let me call around and see if I can get a ride, and I'll let you know later."

"Please think about it, Bri," she said, then hung up the phone.

I didn't see what the big deal about this party was, anyway. I mean, there'd probably be drinking there (everyone knows I'm not doing that shit again), people would be exchanging gifts, and everyone would be introducing everyone else to their boyfriends that went to other schools. I didn't have one of those yet, nor did I really want one. I mean, besides Ashton, and it didn't seem like that was happening anytime soon.

Instead of actually calling around and trying to find a ride, though, I got engrossed into this stupid show on MTV and ended up forgetting about my promise to Ana. Until she called me, at least.

"Bri! Did you find a ride?"

"Erm, I think I'm going to sit this party out, Ana."

She whined. "I realllly want you to meet Blake!" she shrieked.

"Then why don't you guys come over after the party? He has a car, right?"

She coughed slightly. "We would, but he doesn't really wanna drive all the way over there, and besides, the party won't be the same without you."

I sighed. It wasn't that he didn't want to drive that far, it was that she was scared to be sort of alone with him. I mean, when there's tons of people, like at the party, he probably wouldn't try anything against her will. When it was just the three of us, he'd go ahead and rape both Ana and me. After all, she didn't know him that well, and I knew her enough to know when she was lying and when she was afraid. That's what made me agree.

"Fine, I'll go."

She yelped with excitement. "Thank you sooooo much, Bri. You know you're my sis, and I need your approval before I decide to date a guy."

"Yeah, well, you owe me one. And Terrence better not find out about this."

"He won't, I assure you."

With that, I pried myself away from the tv and took a quick shower, not bothering to dry my hair or anything fancy, just putting it up on a ponytail and dressing myself in something halfway decent. Hey, it was clean, that's all that matters. I tiptoed into Terrence's room towards his dresser where my keys were. I gulped. This was the ultimate... if I actually did this and got caught, Terrence would skin me alive.

I winced at that thought. As I stood there, hands near the keys, all I could think was that if he asked why I did this, I wouldn't be able to say that I wasn't thinking at the time. 'Cause I was thinking. I knew the consequences for my actions. Was it worth it? Probably not.

Trying to push the thoughts out of my mind, I grabbed the keys from the dresser. Ohh, they felt so good in my hands! I hadn't driven in soooo long. Hadn't held that key in months. And now I was taking that chance. Now I was going to drive.

I closed his door, leaving everything in its proper place and scurrying away. I was scared and wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible in case Terrence came home at the last minute. I was too much of a basketcase to be any fun at the party. Why the hell did Anastasia want me to go anyway?

I started up my car, as Terrence had done at least once a week for the last few months (sometimes also driving it around the block and letting me ride with him), and adjusted the mirrors and the seat to my liking. Terrence is a big guy, much bigger than I am, so he had the seat far back and the mirror all high... I couldn't drive worth a shit like that. Taking a deep breath in, I put the car in reverse and drove off, driving more careful than I had in my entire year and a half of driving.

I arrived at the party just in time to catch all the crazy drunks running around like idiots and to be introduced to some kids I didn't know. Boyfriends and friends and such that I'd already known were going to be there. For the time being, Ana wasn't there, so I mostly hung out with Shellie. I'd already bought my Christmas presents and wasn't really planning on giving them to my friends just yet, but since I was at the party, what the hell? I decided to anyway.

"Oh my gosh! Bri! This is so cute!" they'd all shriek. And before I knew it, I was actually having a good time.

"Bri!!!!" Ana yelped, after I'd been at the party about thirty minutes. "You made it!" She tackled me in a hug.

I smiled. "Hey Ana."

"Bri, this is Blake. Blake, Bri."

Blake extended his hand and I studied him. I'd known who he was before that night. I mean, everybody in our school knows who everybody is, even the new kids, like Blake. He was a baseball player with blond hair and always wore a backwards hait. He had green eyes and an earring in each ear.

"Hey, Blake, nice to meet you."

He nodded.

There was only one word I could use to describe how I felt about him from this meeting: Stoner!

"Hey! Where's my present!" I heard Anastasia yelp after seeing my box full of gifts (poorly wrapped by yours truly).

"You don't get one," I teased, smiling. But she knew she got her present later, probably on Christmas, since we'd probably all be spending Christmas together. Her dad would probably be out of town, and since it was only Terrence and me, we'd definitely want some company.

Blake wasn't much fun. Every so often he'd say a word or two, but they always ended up sounding stupid. Like I said, he was on the baseball team, and most of the guys that I knew on the team were stoners... at least the bench warmers were, and as far as I knew, he was a bench warmer! Ana seemed to like him, though, and snuggled up with him most of the night, turning down drinks along with me. He seemed like an okay guy, from what I saw. Thus, I gave my approval silently to myself right before looking at my watch.

"Holyshit! Ana! It's late, I gotta go!"

Shellie raised her eyebrows.

"Long story," I told her, hugging each of my friends and saying my goodbyes.

My nerves became bad again. I was shaking like crazy and trying to get out of there as quickly as possible without looking like a crazy maniac. I don't think it worked. I finally made it to my car and peeled out of the driveway, speeding the whole way down the highway. I was so scared that I couldn't even hear the radio. It was nearing eleven o'clock and Terrence could be home at any minute. That wasn't the only thing that was on my mind, though -- what if he was *already* home? What if he was there and waiting up for me with that look on his face like he'd won, like he'd known the entire time that I'd get up and go somewhere. What if he already had the paddle waiting out for me. So many what ifs, that I didn't realize the night could get any worse...

Until there were flashing lights behind me.

"FUCK!" I yelled, beating the steering wheel like it was his fault I was getting pulled over. I'd never gotten a ticket before, why start now?

After I pulled over, the cop came to my window. "Please step out of the vehicle with your license, registration, and proof of insurance," he ordered. I was nearly to tears and anxious as hell.

I pulled the things out of my glovebox and stepped outside into the cold winter air. I hadn't realized how cold it was until that moment. I guess cause I hadn't stayed outside much.

He walked me behind my car and in front of his where the camera could see me, and then looked over my stuff. "Miss Carter, do you know why I pulled you over?" he asked.

I shivered. "Yes, sir," I answered, remembering how I'd hit eighty just before I saw the flashing lights.

He waited.

"I was speeding."

"Do you know what the speed limit is?"

I cringed. "Sixty," I answered.

He handed me back my license and other papers, then began scribbling down something on a pad of paper. "Twenty miles over the speed limit is nothing to play with, Young Lady," he told me, tearing the ticket off of the pad.

"Yes, sir," I answered, taking the paper.

"I appreciate your cooperation," he told me, smiling slightly and dismissing me.

I tried not to freak out. "Don't worry," I told myself, "I can just pay it and Terrence'll never find out." Of course, the cop pulling me over had set me back about ten minutes, so if he hadn't been home already, he would surely be there by now!

I drove the speed limit the rest of my way home, which wasn't too far, and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that Terrence wasn't home. I parked the car in its prior place then raced inside with the keys so he wouldn't randomly come home when I'd almost gotten away scot-free.

The light on the answering machine was flashing when I got home. I gulped, hoping that he hadn't come home and then left again to find me. The only way to find out would be to listen to the message, 'cause he hadn't written a note..

"Hey Bri, it's me. Just calling to check up on ya. Guess you're out with Ana. I'll be home around midnight. Hope you're having a good night."

Talk about guilt. Well, I mean, I was out with Ana, but he suspected nothing.

Now was the time to think up my story. Ashton and Terrence talk too much for me to tell him that Ash took me. He knew that Jayna and I weren't getting along very well anymore. None of the rest of my friends had a car. What if I just told him that Ana's new guyfriend picked me up?

I dialed Ana's cell. "Hey," she answered. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, did Terrence call your phone?"

"Nope, sure didn't."

"Kick ass!" I replied, wanting to do the happy dance. "Okies, I'm at home. Ima tell Terrence that you and your boy took me to the party, k?"

"K, that's fine. See ya!"

I nervously hung up the phone and sat on the couch, not paying a bit of attention to the tv. When Terrence finally came in it scared the shit out of me because I'd jumped a couple of feet into the air. He didn't notice, though. He was floating on clouds.

"How was your date?" I asked.

"It was fun," he answered, smiling and sitting next to me.

"Really? What'd you do?"

"Dinner and a movie, you know, typical date."

I grinned. "Awesome. I'm glad you had a spiffy time."

"What'd you do tonight?"

"Went to that stupid soccer party with Ana."

"Oh? How was it?"

I shrugged. "It was okay. Gave all of my presents out and stuff. Met Ana's guy."

"Nice guy?"

"Mneh, he's okay, I guess. Kind of annoying. But whatever makes her happy."

He nodded. "That's right," he said and slapped me on the shoulder. "You okay?" Damn brother's intuition again.

"Yeah, just kinda upset, that's all. Saw Jayna tonight and stuff."

He hugged me. "It'll be fine."

If only he *knew* what was bugging me!

I wish I could just write "The End" right here and tell you that I lived happily ever after without ever getting into trouble again, but my story is far from over. For the entirity of my Christmas break, I basically hung out with Shellie because Ana was all over her new guy friend. It was rather irritating, though I understood the feeling because I'd once had a boyfriend named Joey with whom I wanted to see all the time. But I never gave up my friends for him!

"Terrence, you'll take me to Shellie's house?"

He was tying a shoe, about to head out with his new girl to run some errands. I'd kept pestering him to tell me what he was doing, but he wouldn't tell, which meant probably some Christmas shopping. "Sure. What are you girls going to do?"

I shrugged. "I guess the same thing we always do... sit around, watch tv, talk, maybe go to the park." The park was in walking distance from her house.

"Sounds great," he said, ruffling my hair.

"I'll see if her mom'll bring me home before they have dinner."

"That's fine, but only if she doesn't mind, okay?"

"Terrence, she's been lugging me around all week... I don't think she'd start minding now."

He rolled his eyes at me. "Fine, fine, whatever," he said, smiling.

Shellie's house was uneventful, and her mom drove me home about five. When we pulled into the driveway my heart stopped. My car was gone.

"Hey, Bri, where's your car?" Shellie's mom asked.

"Don't know. Hope Terrence has it," I said. Actually, I hoped that someone had stolen it. *Then* there wouldn't be a chance of Terrence finding out that I'd driven it. But how was he supposed to find out? I mean, all I'd done was change the mirrors and the seat. Dammit! Why hadn't I changed it back? I could just tell him that I'd sat in it just for a few minutes, but didn't drive it. Would he believe me?

I went inside, my bottom tingling. I was in for it. Oh man, I was in for it! That's all I could think. The only thing that passed through my mind was what was going to happen. I almost even considered going into his room and hiding the paddle. But I didn't. Only awaited my fate.

The door half-slammed and I bit my lower lip harder. He was home. "BRI! I'M HOME!" he yelled, only to find me silently sitting on the couch. "Oh, there you are..." He paused. I looked at him. "We need to have a talk." I knew it was coming.

"We do?" I asked, trying to play dumb, like I didn't know what was going on.

"I need you to explain this to me," he said, coming towards me with a yellow slip of paper.

"It, um, looks to me like you gotta ticket."

"Close, except it says your name on it instead of mine."

"Does it?" I asked, glancing at it.

"Now is not the time for smartass comments, Brianna," he told me.

"I know."

"I love how it's dated from last week. Hmm, seems like last week you weren't able to drive your car..."

I didn't say anything for fear of another smartass comment.

"So, spill it, and the truth."

"Well, um... remember when I wanted to go to that party?" I asked. Upon his nod, I went on and explained. "Well, see, Ana really wanted me to go because she had this new guy and she liked him a lot and wanted my approval and she's the one who even mentioned the idea of taking my car and I told her no but she kept on and kept on and nobody else was able to take me and she said that you'd never find out and it'd be okay and I'm sorry!"

"So you're giving Anastasia all of the blame?"

I gulped. "Well, some of it at least. She convinced me, and gave me the idea, and I was really just looking out for her cause she's like a little sister. I mean, wouldn't you want to approve of a guy before I dated him?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't disobey strict orders from my brother to do it."

I hung my head, twiddling my thumbs.

"And the ticket?" he asked.

"I was speeding to get home because I didn't want you to find out."

"Speeding a lot, too, I see. Twenty miles over the speed limit."

I winced. Sounded a lot worse coming from him.

"So, you took the car under your punishment without it, you sped the way home, lied to me about who took you to the party, and were dishonest by not giving me this ticket. Anything else you need to tell me about?"

I shook my head. "No, sir, that's all."

"Were you planning on telling me about this ticket?"

"No."

"You know that it's going to raise our insurance? And you were going so fast you might get your license taken away? Not like you'll be needing it, since you're not going to be driving for a while."

I almost started crying again. "Please, Terrence, don't take my car away longer!"

"Have you given me any choice? Do you realize what you've done, Young Lady? You *deliberately* disobeyed me. You took your car fully aware of what you were doing. I trusted you to do as you are supposed to, and you let me down. How can I trust you to be responsible with your car after this? I'd like to trust you not to drink and drive, which is the reason you don't have the car, but I can't even trust you to stay at home anymore. Why should I give it back to you?"

He had a point, and I didn't argue.

"Not to mention that you lied to me."

He was silent, letting everything sink in. I was already feeling crappy enough, and the fact that he was royally pissed wasn't helping the situation any. Of course, come to think of it, he wasn't overreacting at all. He was speaking calmly and rationally. That's always a good thing.

He breathed in. "Okay, let's get this over with," he said, sitting down on the couch. "Stand up, Brianna."

I was still biting my lip, and I stood up at his side, looking down at him and letting a tear slip down my cheek.

He grabbed the button of my jeans and undid them, then tugged them down to the floor, taking my panties with them. I shivered in fear.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, unable to talk for fear that I might start bawling.

He didn't say anything, only took me over his lap. I felt this familiar position once again, not enjoying any of it. I sank my face into the couch, putting my hands behind my back so Terrence could grab ahold of them. This was going to hurt like hell, and I'd rather him hold my hands instead of taking the chance of reaching back and getting into more trouble. I wanted to comply as much as possible.

The spanking began without a word being spoken. He just lifted his palm high in the air and slapped it down on my bottom, letting me howl for all it's worth. It hurt sooo badly, but all for a good reason. He slapped my bum again and again, getting a steady rhythm and concentrating mainly on my sitspots. I kicked slightly, trying not to yelp too much (not succeeding).

"Oooowwww, Terrence... ahhhhh, that hurts!" I bawled.

"Why am I giving you this spanking, Brianna Nicole?"

"Because I disobeyed you and I lied and OW! got a ticket."

"Exactly, only more because you disobeyed me an lied," he answered, replying also with hearty smacks to my sitspots. "If there's anything I don't like, Brianna, it's dishonesty. I want to trust you, you're my sister. But how am I going to trust you if you lie to me?"

I cried into the couch, "I'm sorry. I won't do it again!"

"You're right about that. After this spanking, you'll definitely think twice before you do anything so irresponsible."

With that, he began spanking my thighs (which caused my screams to get even louder if at all possible). He spanked and spanked and spanked my thighs until they felt like they were maroon. I was sobbing like a baby and I couldn't breathe very well from all the crying. My nose was stuffy and my head was hurting, but that didn't take my mind away from the throbbing in my backside and thighs.

"Okay, Brianna, get up." He helped me to my feet. "Get my hairbrush," he ordered, and I knew which one he was talking about. No, not a dinky plastic one, but a heavy wooden one with a smooth back. I hobbled to his room where the brush lay on his dresser next to my keys. Why hadn't I seen it before I took the car? It was certainly supposed to help deter me from picking up the keys.

I gulped as I took it in my hands, then hobbled back to the living room where Terrence sat on the couch, head in hands. He lifted his head as he heard me coming.

"All right, come on," he said, putting me back over his lap.

With the first smack I was already bawling and throwing a fit. It hurt like mad-crazy and I guess I was expecting it, but it'd been a couple of months since my last hairbrush spanking that I wasn't totally ready for the sting it produced.

"Owwwwwwwwwiiiiieeeeee!!" I howled.

He paid no attention, just kept delivering them. I kicked and squirmed and tried to move to where he'd stop spanking in the same spot, but he only circled his arm around me to keep me still and spanked harder. "Stop squirming, Young Lady. I'm far from finished."

I whined along with my crying, then paced myself for the rest of the hard smacks. Somewhere through the crying and spanking I remembered the last time I was spanked so hard and how he spanked my inner thighs. I desperately wished he wouldn't do that this time.

But he *did* spank my thighs, and very hard, at that. I figured by the end of the night my entire bottom would be black and blue from the damn hairbrush.

He lifted me up after a few minutes of that and helped me over the couch. That's when I realized that it *still* wasn't over!

"Nooooooo," I pleaded. "Pleaseeeeee, no moreeee!" I sobbed, gasping and trying to catch my breath but crying too hard to be able to.

He didn't answer, just pushed me slightly over the couch. "Have you learned your lesson, Brianna Carter?"

"Y-yes, sir!"

"So what will you do next time something like this happens?"

"I won't go!"

He must've understood what I meant, cause he didn't push any further. "Okay, I'm going to spank you with my belt to drive the lesson home, and then I'll be finished."

My sobs hadn't died any, and now all hopes of sitting down for a couple of weeks were gone. I could see him in my head unbuckling the belt, sliding it through the loops, then folding it over.

"Almost finished," he promised and I felt the sting in my bottom telling me that this wasn't going to be any easier to take than the rest of my punishment. I can't say I didn't deserve it, because I did... but that didn't help me feel any better!

He didn't give me much with the belt, cause I guess he felt sorry for me. My bottom must have been purple by that time (at least it felt that way!) When he *finally* finished up, I was a mess and my hair was matted to my face from all the tears. I was sweating from struggling and fighting so much, and my whole body ached from all the crying. My face was red and puffy, my bottom the darkest shade of red possible. Things weren't feeling so great.

Terrence gathered me into his arms, being careful around my tender backside. "Babygirl, I love you, and I want to trust you, okay? But you must *not* do this. It's a privilege that you have a car, and when you abuse that privilege, your car is mine. If this happens again, we're selling it, do you hear me?"

I nodded, not worried about it. No way was this happening again!

"I understand that Ana is your best friend and you want to be there for her, but I don't care what she says -- if you know it's wrong, don't do it."

"Yes, sir," I murmured.

He held me close, rubbing my back and helping me calm down. Finally, when I was all cried out, he lifted me and pushed the hair out of my eyes. "Call Anastasia," he told me.

I nodded. If anyone needed to know about this, she did.

It wasn't she who answered, but Ashton. "Hello?"

"Hey," I said, sniffling. "It's Bri.."

"Hey Bri... what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said, wincing as I attempted to sit down on my bed, but finally gave up and lay down on my stomach instead. "Is Ana around?"

"Nah, she's out with that guy. Hey Bri, you've met him... what do you think?"

I shrugged. "I think he's fine, I guess."

"She's been getting back late for curfew for a while now, and I've been warning her for quite some time. I know it's cool for her having a boyfriend, but she's really starting to push it."

"Yeah."

"So what's up?" he asked, more like asking what was going on instead of just a friendly gesture.

I shrugged, even though he couldn't see. "I dunno... just in trouble and stuff..."

"Uh oh... did Ana have something to do with it?"

"Sorta..."

"Do tell," he begged.

"Nah, it's okay..." I almost continued my sentence but he interrupted.

"Brianna, tell me what happened."

"Mneh, she just begged me to go to the soccer party thing and convinced me to use my car."

"Oh? She told me that her boyfriend picked you up that night."

"That's cause we didn't want Terrence to know."

"I see. Well, I'll have a talk with her about it.."

"Noooo, don't do that."

"I'll tell her that Terrence told me, because I'm pretty sure he will."

I groaned. "I don't want her to get into trouble."

"Well, she's in trouble anyway. I'll talk to you later, Bri."

"See ya," I muttered and hung up.

Fortuantely, Ana wasn't mad at me about it. I'm sure she didn't *want* the spanking that she got, but she didn't mind so much since she felt like she got me into trouble. Ah well, one thing's for sure, we both learned our lessons and promised each other never to persuade the other to do anything so stupid again (though we weren't sure if we'd actually follow through on that promise...).

Story: The Craziest Day

The first in the Carlos/Danielle series.  Danielle introduces herself and her mixed-up family life.  Then she tries ecstasy for the first time with a couple of friends and gets chased around by a crazy guy with a bat.  Her step-brother saves the day, but to say the least, he's not pleased with her behavior.

The Craziest Day
by Breanna Carter

My mom remarried when I was 11. That made my family turn from two people into four. And a few months later, there were five of us. We're not your average family. I mean, we could be. We have the Mom and Dad and three kids, a dog, and a parrot. My littlest brother watches Saturday Morning Cartoons while my mom cooks breakfast. But otherwise, we're far from normal.

See, first you have me. I'm fifteen-going-on-sixteen and apparently in the midst of my teenage hormone years. That's what my mom says anyway. I can be a big brat sometimes, especially when I come home from school after a hard day, my hair in a ponytail bobbing around like I know everything, throwing my shoes against the wall and pouting that my day was "FINE, just fine." Then there's my mom. She's a doctor in the ER at one of the charity hospitals. Well, that's what most people call it anyway. It's for the people who don't have insurance and most of the patients are generally the working-class Hispanics. That's where she met my step-dad, Juan. Such a typical Mexican name. Don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against Mexicans. How could I? Half of my family is Mexican and I live in Houston. In fact, I kinda like them. But that's besides the point. So my mom met Juan one afternoon when he came in with his son, Carlos, who had to have stitches because he'd gashed his arm open in a baseball game. Don't ask me how it happened. Anyway, that brings me to Carlos, my lovely step brother. He's four years older than me (which makes him nineteen), tall, thin, and a hunk, if I do say so myself. Most of my friends have a crush on him. Who wouldn't? I mean, hell, even I would, if he wasn't my step brother. So mom and Juan got married and then had child number three: Alex. He's four years old now, and adorable as can be. He's also bilingual. He'll be picking up all sorts of girls when he gets in high school!

So now that I've introduced my family to you, you can probably tell that we're far from normal. Living in a household with two different languages isn't easy, not to mention that it isn't easy explaining to your friends why your step-brother is pure Mexicano. Not like they mind at all... they LOVE my step-bro, especially when he speaks in Spanish (they're constantly hassling him to do so!). It's also weird living in a family where my mom is the primary bread-winner. She's the one who brings home the dinero. Not saying that Juan doesn't work... he works his ass off. He'll just probably always be stuck with low-paying labor jobs. I was always under the impression that it was the other way around... or at least that the father works and the mom doesn't. But oh well... I like my family anyway, even if we are abnormal.

Anyway, on to my story. For my mom's fifth year wedding anniversary, she decided that they should take a trip. A two week-long trip at that, leaving Carlos in charge of his unruly step-sister while grandma and grandpa took care of baby Alex. They were first off to Cancun where they could visit Juan's parents and finally off to Hawaii where they'd spend the last week. I was jealous, as you can imagine. I wanted to go to Cancun and Hawaii!! But noooo, I had to go to school. Dammit.

"Come on, Danielle," Carlos mumbled sleepily as he stood in my doorway in only a pair of jeans. "Just get up already."

"Can't I just skip school today? It's Friday... it's not like we're doing anything anyway!" I groaned, rolling over to face the wall.

"Sorry, you gotta go. If you don't, next time they're out of town WE'LL have to stay with grandparents, too."

"But I'm sick," I said, coughing slightly, my last pitiful attempt to skip school.

He sighed. "Come on, hermana. Just get up. Please?" he begged and it was so adorable that I couldn't resist.

"Fine, but only for you."

He smiled. "Gracias!"

I dragged myself out of bed, hoping for another non-dramatic day in my life. I was constantly wishing for those days because sometimes my life was too dramatic to handle. I was sick of drama. I was ready for something simple. But there's always drama when you hang out with Hispanics.

I arrived to school in my short skirt, knee high boots, black shirt, and tie. I was cute for some reason. Not sure why, but I was. Not like I was trying to impress any guys. Lucky me, Carlos left the house before I got dressed, else he'd have seen me in that skirt. He and his father went well with my mom because they were all conservative. Hopefully I could train Alex to be better.

"Danielle, you know that Principal Hightower is starting to become a Nazi about dresscode." That was my best friend, Michelle. She was always on the lookout for me, but always keeping me in trouble.

I rolled my eyes. "Who cares? It's not like my parents are home anyway, it's only Carlos and he wouldn't do anything. Besides, I wouldn't mind if they sent me home. Would rather be there than here anyway!"

"But when your mom comes back home you'll be in tons of trouble."

She'd been there before when Mom went off on me. Bleh, I don't like thinking about that night. You know those nights that you wear too much makeup and stay out past curfew hoping to pick up a few guys? That's what Michelle and I had been doing that night. When we came home, Mom was livid. She ordered me too my room and called Michelle's parents to pick her up. Later that night I'd gotten a text message from my best friend wondering if I was okay. Needless to say, I was lying on my stomach with a sore bottom. It's true that Juan was only my stepdad, but Mom made it clear that he'd carry out discipline if it needed be. And he was a firm believer in spankings. That night I got it from both parents. Yeouch.

"Carlos won't tell. He's been on my end before. He wouldn't want me to be in trouble with them." And with that, the bell rang and we were both tardy to our first period class.

The day didn't go by uneventful as I'd wanted it to. After getting a tardy to my first period class, I managed to get in trouble for talking during second period, failed to dress out for gym, and then got accused of PDA (public display of affection... come on people, we were just snuggling!) during lunch. That last mark got me sent to the office where I was scolded for the various things I'd done that day and given a detention slip for dress code violation. I was to stay in detention the rest of the afternoon and have a note sent home for my brother to sign.

I was relieved when the bell rang to dismiss us from school. Michelle caught the bus with me and we sat in our stinky hot seats with the window rolled down blowing wind in our faces.

"What's up for the night?" I asked, staring out of the window.

"My friend has us the hook up. We'll get fried and stay the night at Miguel's house. You know how he is. He'll love having two girls stay the night at his house."

Let me translate this for you: My friend has ecstasy, we can crash at our 18 year old Mexican friend's house because he lives with only a roommate, and he'll brag to his friends about having two white girls at his house. Sounds like a good deal? Well, it does to me!

"Sounds good. I don't know if Carlos will go for it, though," I admitted.

"Well, if he doesn't, you can just sneak out. It's not like you haven't done it before. I'll help you back home before he gets up. What time does he get up anyway?"

"Too early for me to handle. Probably the crack of dawn or something. He always watches cartoons with Alex on Saturdays."

She nodded, contemplating. "We'll get you back home before you come down. It'll be fine. He'll never know."

I smiled. She was right... how would he know?

As if my day couldn't get anymore dramatic than it had already been, I decided to go ahead and give the note to Carlos. I didn't want to forget it and have to suffer through a couple more days detention and a potential phone call home. I always had the tendency to forget things.

He wasn't a very happy camper. He cursed to himself in Spanish then waved the note around frantically, asking me what I was thinking, wearing such clothes to school when I knew they were a violation of the dress code. I just rolled my eyes and told him that the dress code was stupid and I should be able to wear whatever I wanted.

Wrong answer.

"We'll see how stupid the dress code is when you spend the weekend at home."

"But Carlos!" I whined. "I already have plans!" Well, I kinda did, even if he wasn't going to know about them.

"Not anymore," he answered, walking away to denote that the conversation was over.

I stomped my foot and pouted, storming towards my room and slamming the door, listening as a picture fell that had been hanging on the wall. Oops.

"Danielle Grace!" I heard Carlos yell and I winced.

"Sorry!" I yelled back.

He opened the door, a look of sheer anger on his face. He took a glance at me and his face softened, seeing my pouty lip as I sat on the bed.

"Look," he said, buttoning up his shirt, "I have to work tonight, and I know that you want to go out. There's no way I can stop you. But if I ever hear of you pulling a stunt like this again, you'll be sitting at the restuarant all night watching me wait tables, got it?"

I couldn't help but let out that smirk. "I got it," I said and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

He smiled back. "Behave," he ordered. "I'll be back home around eleven. Don't do anything you're not supposed to."

Me? Do anything I'm not supposed to? How could he think that!!! (I guess even he could tell that my halo was a little tilted..) "I'll be good," I promised.

With a shut of the door, I felt the freedom. Yay! The whole house to myself for about five hours! What the hell was I going to do? Just carry on with my bland, boring life...

Surprisingly, those five hours I was home alone were the *least* dramatic hours of my day. I basically just sat around watching tv and talking on the phone, discussing plans with Michelle. Since Carlos wouldn't be home until at least eleven, we couldn't do our stuff til about twelve, which meant that I wouildn't be able to come home until four (and it wouldn't even be close to being worn off yet!!). Ah well, I wouldn't mind coming down off of it at my house. I could at least talk on the phone because there'd be no chance in hell of sleeping. At least from what I've heard about ecstasy. As much as it sounds like I've tried it before, I really never have.

About ten she called and said that she got the stuff, about ten-thirty, Carlos came walking in through the door, and at eleven, as if on cue, I yawned and headed sleepily "to bed." Fifteen minutes later, I pried the window open and jumped out, scampering through the bushes towards Miguel's house.

We knew Miguel from Juan, surprisingly enough. They used to work together at the golf course cutting grass and stuff. He'd always talk to us when we came around and eventually we befriended one another. He's one of those guys that Juan sees as another son, so at least if they found out we were at Miguel's house this time of night, they wouldn't freak out as badly as they would otherwise.

"Wow, you're earlier than I expected," Michelle said, handing me a tiny white pill with the imprint of a bird on it. "It's the white dove, give it a try."

I inspected it a moment, tracing my finger over the tiny dove, wondering what kind of shit I was about to get myself into. Not thinking about the consequences, I popped it in my mouth and swallowed, washing it down with some water. Michelle had already taken hers, but didn't seem much different.

We waited for what seemed like ages. Miguel was just messing around and cracking jokes in Spanish because he didn't know much English. I could somewhat carry on a conversation and be the mediator so Michelle knew what was going on, but that was about all. We taught him out to say some dirty stuff in English, which was pretty funny. Then, like someone threw a rock at me, the damn stuff hit.. and I mean HARD.

One minute I was sitting there trying to teach him how to talk in English, the next, the room was blurring and I felt a big rush to my head and just started giggling. I turned to look at Michelle and her pupils were as big as nickels. Miguel looked at us as if we were crazy.

"Are you crazy yet?" he asked us, in English of course.

"Yesssss!!!" I groaned, smiling and giggling at Michelle who was going completely crazy.

I don't remember much of what was happening, just being goofy and talking in weird voices and thinking that I was seeing shit. I kept worrying about what time it was and Miguel kept making stupid faces at us. I talked in Spanish, a lot, because it was entertaining to try and pronounce those words.

Everything was going fine and dandy, til about three in the morning. We were coming down, I guess. As in, we weren't as crazy as we had been and I was getting a little sleepy. Therefore, it had to be wearing off. And of course, about this time, we heard a commotion outside. Miguel went to see what it was all about, and being curious teenagers, we did, too.

There were two Mexicans wrestling on the ground, one beating the shit out of another, and about six others standing around watching. Miguel, Michelle, and I stood on the stairs, watching for a minute until one stood up and started cussing the other out. The other shot back words that sounded like murder. Literally. He wanted to kill the other guy. Then he looked at the big group that had been there watching, and swore at them, wanting also, to end their lives. I couldn't believe this!

"Fuck this," I muttered, "I'm getting out of here."

Miguel held me back, not allowing me to go down the stairs. He was talking to me, and I finally understood that he was saying the guy had a knife. Then I saw its gleam underneath the streetlights.

"Shit!" I screamed, and ran down the stairs. "Fucking leave them alone!" I yelled at the guy with the knife, being overwhelmed by the smell of budlight. "Go home, just go away!"

He said something to me that I couldn't make out, showing me the knife as he did so.

"Danielle!" Miguel shouted, but I ignored him (like an idiot).

"Please... just leave them alone. Just go home.." I pleaded, tears almost to my eyes.

He said some other words that I understood and my eyes narrowed. No one EVER called me that..

"Chinga tu Madre!" I yelled and heard a gasp across the group. Word of advice: never say that to a drunk Mexican. He broke in a run after me, waving that fucking knife around and I hauled ass, not even realizing that I could run that fast. My house was only a couple of blocks away and the ecstasy hadn't worn off yet so I was able to run like superman.

The crazy man was yelling obscenities at me the entire run, but he kept as close to me as possible. I was almost to tears because I was so scared and my conscience was yelling at me for not listening to Miguel, or even Carlos when he'd told me to stay away from those guys. It was all too late now, and all I could do was run for my life and hope that he'd leave me alone once I got home (or preferrably, get tired and pass out before we made it home).

I finally made it to my house where the porch light was on and I charged inside, slamming the door shut and locking it. The fact that Carlos was sitting in the recliner silently watching tv didn't phase me one bit.

"It's a guy," I panted, out of breath and clutching my stomach. "Chasing me.."

The guy banged on the door, still shouting stuff. He was still calling me names, trying to get the door open.

"He has a knife!" I told Carlos as he walked towards the door. He grabbed the bat before opening it.

It's kind of a blur, what happened after that. The crazy guy swore at Carlos, and Carlos swore back, each of them calling the other name, and Carlos basically telling him to fuck off and leave his little sister alone. I was crying by now, begging Carlos to just come inside and forget about what was happening, but he ignored me and walked out of the door, bat in hand, finally banging it against the railing next to the stairs and sending the crazy guy away.

He turned around, walked back inside, slamming the door shut and locking it, throwing the bat on the floor.

He muttered some stuff in Spanish that I understood well enough to know that he was royally pissed. "What the hell is going on, hermana?" he asked. "What the hell was that all about?"

I was bawling my eyes out, covering my face with my hands because I was so scared and shaking.

"Tell me, Danielle."

"I don't know," I choked out.

"What the hell are you doing out at three in the morning? Don't you know I'm worried sick about you?"

"I knowwww," I cried.

He plopped himself down on the couch and waited for my tears to subside. He was still in his work uniform, a long sleeved button-up shirt that was tucked in with black pants and a belt. Girls flaunted over him in that. Can't really say I blamed them. Even then, being as mad as he was, I still thought he looked sexy.

I finally wiped the tears away and looked at him. He stared me in the eyes, finally standing up, a look of worry on his face.

"What are you on?" he asked.

"I'm so scared."

"Danielle... what did you take? Your eyes are big. What the hell are you on?"

I shook my head. "Nothing," I said, looking away from him.

He grabbed my chin with his hand and turned my face towards him. "Look me straight in the eyes and tell me you haven't taken any drugs."

I began crying again. "Ecstasy!" I finally told him, stomping my foot and almost going completely crazy. "I'm on ecstasy and it won't fucking wear off and I'm scared of that guy and he wants to kill me!"

He let go of my chin, biting his lower lip and running some fingers through his hair. "Calm down, hermana," he said, pulling me towards him and embracing me tightly. "Shhh," he cooed. "You're okay. You're going to be okay. He's not coming back."

"I'm sorrryyyyy," I pleaded, face still buried in his chest.

"Shhhh," he pet my hair and rocked me back and forth until I was calm enough and not crying anymore.

"I'm so scared," I said again.

"Come on, let's go to bed," he offered, releasing me from the hug and dragging me slightly by the wrist down the hallway.

"I don't wanna be alone!"

"You can sleep in my room. Come on, hermana. You're okay. You're safe."

And the thing was, I did feel safe... at least with Carlos around. He kept his arm around my shoulder and lead me to his room. I fell onto the bed and he untucked his shirt, then unbuttoned it, slipping it off and revealing his white undershirt. Then he took off his pants and folded them neatly, putting on a pair of pj pants. I groaned, rolling over. "I need water," I complained.

I heard him walk away, but I was unphased, seeing as I was half asleep and dreaming. They weren't real dreams because I knew I was awake. I felt like what I was dreaming was really happening... like there really was a little boy next to me talking to me. But I knew once I opened my eyes he'd disappear.

Carlos came back in the room, a glass of water in his hands. "Here, Danielle, drink up," he told me, sitting the glass down on his night stand next to me. I took little sips (that's what I'd been advised to do), and rested my head back against the pillow.

"I don't feel so well."

"I wouldn't imagine so," he answered, taking my shoes off, then my socks. "Let's get some sleep, okay? You'll feel better in the morning."

I don't think either of us got much sleep that night. I kept talking in my sleep and Carlos kept answering me. I think it was probably a little amusing to him, because I was saying completely and utterly stupid things. It's good that he could have a laugh, considering the circumstances.

When I finally woke up, Carlos was already up and had the cartoons blaring as he scrambled some eggs.

"Good to see you woke up on your own. I know it's early, and you had a rough night, but you're coming to work with me today."

I groaned, rubbing my eyes sleepily, seeing him dressed in that same uniform. He had to work the day shift today. The six hour shift. From eleven in the morning until five in the evening, maybe longer. "Do I have to go?" I whined, sitting down at the kitchen table.

"Oh yeah. What kind of brother would I be to let my hermana stay at home alone after what happened last night?"

I poked my lower lip out. "Everything's fine. Like you said, the guy won't be coming back anytime soon."

He scraped the eggs onto a plate and turned around. "Oh, I'm not talking about him. I'm talking about you. How can I trust you when you snuck out last night, did some drugs, then nearly got yourself killed?"

I whined. "You can still trust me. I learned my lesson," I assured him.

"Uh huh," he answered, pouring two glasses of milk and sitting down next to me. He handed one to me and offered some eggs.

"No thanks, I'm not hungry."

He shrugged. "If you get hungry, you're paying for your own meal," he told me.

"I'm not worried about it." I didn't like the food at his restuarant, and even if I did, I doubted I'd be getting hungry anytime soon.

"Would you care to explain yourself now, or wait until after work?"

"There's not much to explain, is there? Looks to me like you've got it nailed.."

"So there was no logical reasoning behind what you did last night?" he asked, staring me in the eyes.

"Not really. Just curious."

"Drugs are dangerous, Danielle Grace. You know that, I know you do. How many drug ed and health classes have you taken?"

"Too many," I mumbled.

"And you *still* didn't learn?"

"Guess not."

"Not the time to be a smartass, Young Lady." I cringed at that word. I was only called that when in serious trouble. It used to be that only my mom used it, but she'd somehow let Juan in on her little secret, and now even *he* called me that in some situations. And NOW Carlos was using it! What is the deal??

"Sorry," I muttered.

He finished up his breakfast and put his dishes in the sink, rinsing them out. "Get dressed. I've gotta leave in ten minutes."

I pushed away from the table and took a quick shower, finding a decent pair of jeans and a T-shirt, as well as a notebook so I'd have something to doodle in while I sat in the corner of On the Border, doing absolutely nothing. I finished brushing my teeth and ran out the door to Carlos who was sitting in his car, engine already started and airconditioner blowing. It was a nice fall day, and I was spending it inside of a nasty Mexican restuarant (sorry, I just really don't like their food!) doing absolutely nothing. Thanks to me being stupid. If only I'd listened to Miguel and stayed upstairs with them instead of getting involved in that fight... Carlos would have never found out.

Of course he would have. He knows everything. He knew before I came home that I'd snuck out. Blah. What a terrible day this was going to be.

He combed his hair as we pulled up to the restuarant with that big neon sign that said "On the Border" in big bold letters. "Give me your cell phone," he ordered.

"But Carlos!" I begged.

"But nothing. Give it to me, now."

"What am I supposed to do for six hours??"

"Think about what you've done, how much trouble you're in, and what kind of consequences there are going to be for your actions."

I pouted, thinking this was a big enough consequence.

"I expect you to write me a four page essay on the dangers of drugs and sneaking out of the house. If it's not finished by the end of work, you'll regret not doing it."

I gulped. "Okay," I answered.

It was the slow most boring day of my life. As I sat there writing the essay, all I could think about was how I wished my life was anti-climatic. Some people go around trying to create drama, and I just try to avoid it. I don't understand how that works. Why can't the people who want drama have a dramatic life and those of us like me have a life without it? Life is so strange sometimes.

The four page essay took up only a sixth of the time I was there. That means I still had five hours to kill and I was getting bored pretty quickly. I people-watched for the most part. Watched the couple next to me try to pronounce the names of the food on the menu, watched the kids run around the restuarant creating trouble, saw people complain about the food. Nothing interesting happened. Carlos seemed like a really good waiter, and I noticed that he made tons of tips. At one point in time I considered taking a couple of dollars, but I didn't. Instead I just ordered a water and munched on some chips to try and settle my stomach.

Finally, after what seemed like days, five o'clock finally rolled around and Carlos waved me to the front.

"That was so boring," I told him.

"Ah, well, just think... you'll get to do that all week!"

"Nooooo... please don't make me."

He shrugged. "Too bad. Should've thought about that before you got yourself into trouble. Did you write me that essay?"

"Yes, and I proofread it about eighty times, and then rewrote it. How pathetic is that?"

"Not so pathetic. I mean, after all, you had plenty of time."

We rode home in near silence. I was convinced that my punishment would be staying by his side at all times, but I guess he had something different in mind. When we arrived at my house, I tried to make my way towards my room, but he stopped me.

"We have to have our talk," he said, pointing to the couch for me to sit down.

"We do? I thought the essay..."

"Sit, Danielle," he said sternly, looking deep into my eyes.

I gulped and sat down on the couch, hypnotized by his gaze.

"Now, tell me, what possessed you to do something so stupid?"

"Um, which part?"

"The whole night. Tell me. What's the deal?"

I explained to him that I was curious, that my friends wanted to try it, that I'm just an idiot and don't know why I stooped so low. He shook his head at me, lecturing me on the dangers of all that I'd done.

"Firstly, ecstasy can kill you. I know I don't have to say that. I know that you know it. Secondly, sneaking out of the house at that time of night is dangerous. Anyone could kidnap you, rape you, or try and kill you. Thirdly, Miguel is bad news, especially if he hangs around with a group of guys who try to kill each other. If you're going to go over there, use your head and DON'T approach someone with a knife. Come on, Danielle. You're not stupid."

"I know, but I was last night," I admitted, hanging my head.

"You are NEVER to use those words, do you understand me?" He was referring to what I'd told the crazy guy. The thing that you should never tell Mexicans.

"I understand."

"If I ever catch something that dirty coming from your mouth, I'll wash it out with soap. Understand?"

I nodded.

He began to roll up his sleeves. "As for the rest of the stuff that you did, I guess I need not say that a spanking would be the proper punishment?"

My mouth dropped to the floor. "Wait.. Carlos... a spanking? Aren't you taking this too far?"

"Oh, believe me, honey... this ISN'T too far. I *could* spank you everyday, have you stay at the restuarant everyday, until your mom comes home, then tell her and Dad what you did. Would you like that?"

I shook my head. "But still. Isn't making me stay a week with you enough punishment?"

"Nope." He finished rolling up the other sleeve. "Stand."

I bit my lower lip, resisting. "Please, Carlos.. not this... please."

"The longer you resist, the harder I'm going to spank. I suggest you comply."

I whined, standing. "But, I'm too old for this!"

"Your mom doesn't seem to think so, nor does my dad. Nor do I."

"But you're my brother! I'm your hermana! Your sister! Please!"

He ignored me and sat down on the couch, pulling me towards him. "That's why I'm doing this, hermana. Because I love you, and I don't want to see you screw up your life with drugs." He began to unbutton my jeans.

"Noooo," I begged, but didn't struggle as much as I'd have liked to.

"Yessss," he mocked, taking it upon himself to unzip them as well, and finally tug them to the floor.

My hands flew to my bottom to protect it. Like that'd help any. He just pulled me over his lap and moved my hands out of the way. "You know as well as I do that you deserve this spanking."

He was right... I *did* know that I deserved it... but that didn't make it any easier to take! "Pleaseeeee... por favorrrrrr.." I'd taken to begging in Spanish! That's how desperate I was.

"You're going to get it good," he assured me, pinning my hands down and fiddling with the wasteband of my panties before finally letting them meet my jeans.

I whined, almost throwing a fit. "Carlossss, pleaseeeee nooooo." I must have sounded two years old (that's how old I felt, anyway).

"Too late. Next time think about this *before* causing trouble." He didn't give me much of a warning, just slapped the hell out of my backside. I yelped so loudly you'd have thought I saw a rat crawling across the floor!

"OOowwwwww!!! Carlos!" I howled, but he continued slapping my bare bottom with all of his might. "Pleaseeeee, it hurtsss!!"

"Good, SMACK! SMACK! It better hurt! SMACK!!"

"Pleaseee no moreeeeee!!"

"I've only begun, little girl. SMACK SMACK SMACK!!"

I kicked and squirmed, trying to free my hands from his tight grip as he rained down harder smacks on my bottom. "Oooowwwww, Carlosssss... pleaseeeee, it hurts it hurts it hurts!!!"

He was unmoved, keeping the spanks coming. I was desperate, ready to try anything to end this spanking, but nothing was working. My kicking just earned me harder smacks, my squirming failed to get him to stop concentrating in the same spots, and my hands were never freed from his grip.

"Oowwwiess!!" I pleaded. "Please! No more! No mas! Me duele!!!" I was to the point of speaking in Spanish. How crazy is that?

His ears were even deaf to my Spanish pleas! He kept at it, spanking harder (though I thought it impossible), and finally letting some of his energy out on my sit spots and thighs. Owwies... that hurt more than anything.

"Carrlooosssss!!! I'm sorrrryyy!!"

"Good, I'm glad that I'm making an impression."

"A big impression!!" I assured him. "Pleaseeee no more!!!"

"Not even close to being finished, hermana," he told me.

That caused me to wail even more, if at all possible. There were a few actual tears falling, but I guess not enough to suit him. My crying was more like dry crying, if that makes sense. I don't know.

"Next time you open your window to sneak out," he began, spanking to enunciate each word, "think about this spanking and tell me if it's worth it." He paused from speaking to spank me more. "Next time you think about taking one of those pills, think about this. You are too important to me and the rest of your family to destroy your life over a little curiousity. You are too young to be thinking about drugs and if I were able, I'd take Michelle over my knee to teach her a thing or two, too."

I kicked and squirmed and howled. "I won't do it again!! I promise!!"

Carlos was still unmoved and kept spanking my bottom until my head was buried into the couch and I was sobbing my eyes out. I not only was in uber amounts of pain, but my heart ached for letting down my older brother, even if he was a step brother. He cared about me so much and I'd broken his trust. How could I do that?

"Get up, Danielle," he told me, keeping a stern face. "I'm not finished with you yet," he promised.

I would have whined more, but I was crying so hard that I couldn't. My hands rushed to my eyes because I hated for people to see me cry. I tried to wipe the tears away but they were coming down too quickly. I could see scarcely between my hands and the tears that were falling. I noticed Carlos unbuckling his belt and taking the buckle, pulling it out from the loops. It was a black leather belt that I remembered him buying. He'd bought it at Dillard's with his work uniform and some other clothes and when he came home, I remember Juan distinctively taking it in his hands, snapping it and telling Carlos that it'd be good to blister someone's behind with. Damn. Why'd I have to be the one he tested it out on??

"Come on, hermana," he said, helping me back across his lap and folding the belt over.

I cried more than ever, hearing him call me hermana, his sister... not a step sister, not the little girl he lived with, but his real sister. He loved me so much, cared for me, and I'd let him down. I felt terrible.

I felt even more terrible as he grabbed my wrists once again and lashed down the first blow with his belt. I must have howled loud enough to where the neighbors could hear me. The dog started barking and he landed another blow, right below the first, and then another, not bothering to take his time and let me regain myself. This hurt more than ever. I'd never actually been spanked with a belt, at least not on the bare bottom. It hurt like bloody hell. It was throbbing and stinging like crazy and I was squirming and kicking more than ever.

I couldn't even talk, no matter how hard I tried to beg him to stop. It must have lasted no longer than a minute, and he finally stopped, releasing the tight grip on my hands, dropping the belt to the floor.

He rubbed my back gently, speaking in the same consoling voice that he had when I was scared of the crazy guy. "Shhhh, Danielle," he cooed. "It's okay. You're okay. I love you, hermana. You're my little sister. My baby sis. Te amo."

I was trying to talk back to him, but everytime I tried to speak, my words came out in broken sobs instead. He just kept me over his lap and talked to me softly, trying to soothe me, trying to stop my crying. Eventually, it worked. It took a while, but I regained my composure and was able to talk again. "I'm sorry," were the first words out of my mouth.

"I know. You're forgiven," he promised.

"I won't do it again."

"I hope not."

I pushed myself up with my hands and rolled off of his lap, panties and pants down at my ankles. I couldn't help it... I fell into a hug. He held me tightly, nearly setting me off into tears again.

"It's going to be hard sitting down while you're working tomorrow," I admitted.

He laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure you'll remember this lesson for a long time."