Starting Over (very beginning): Chloe (M/F)

Chloe meets with a random stranger to get spanked. 






"What happened at court?  Is everything okay?  Are you okay?"  My voice faltered slightly despite my best efforts to remain calm, the palpitations in my chest making it hard to breathe.  I’d been avoiding thoughts about my online friend’s sentencing trial all morning, but now that we were on the phone my anxiety couldn’t be contained.

“I’m fine.  They just gave me house arrest, but no technology... would you believe I'm on an actual landline phone right now??  I’m so hipster.”  Sage’s laugh gave me the comfort I needed to finally breathe a sigh of relief.  “But anyway, it seems that my disability and gender neutrality did some good for once... they were afraid of mixing me with the ‘normal’ criminals.  So here I am.  Dunno what I’ll do without technology, though… maybe arts and crafts?”

“You doing crafts… that’s hilarious.”  I couldn’t help but smile, feeling the first ounce of optimism since my granny died and Sage was arrested.  Two unrelated situations that just happened at the same time.  Probably both also could’ve been avoided (or postponed) if I was a better person.  "I'm glad you're okay."

I lit a cigarette and felt my body soften as smoke blew from my lips.  Sage described the trial and my eyes drifted around the living room of my granny’s dilapidated home.  Photos of her estranged children and grandkids neatly adorned the walls, a puke green sofa underneath, the same one that’d been there since my dad and I moved in at the turn of the millennium, only a few months after my mom left.  In the middle of the room sat an ancient wooden coffee table, countless rings blended into each other from the cups of visitors throughout the years.  My granny was never one for using coasters.  On the other side of the room was an out-of-tune piano that I hadn't played since childhood, and above was a beady-eyed rodent, sticking his head out of the hole-y ceiling.  Taking another drag off my cigarette, I kept my eyes on the creature and tried not to panic as I forced my attention back to Sage.

"Okay, Chloe... now it's my turn to be the older sibling you never had.  You need to get the fuck out of there.  Start over, get a new life. You don’t need anything to happen like it did with... you know."  Like it just happened with Sage.  

"Yeah, I know.  It's just so much work and money."

“Call Izaak, he'll help."

My best friend’s bearded, grinning face came to mind.  We hadn’t talked in years, since right after he graduated college and was recruited by the FBI to work in New York City.  Izaak was the only person left who’d always been there for me and I knew I could count on him for help, even after having been out of touch for so long.  But part of me was nervous.  One of the reasons we hadn't spoken was the shame I felt at my current lifestyle.  Most of my bad habits had been adopted for survival, but still.  Izaak had a strong moral code and his career in law enforcement could get one or both of us in big trouble.  "I dunno, Sage.  I’m not sure that’s a good idea…”

"You've been talking about it for months.  You know it's the right thing.”  My hesitation in responding prompted Sage to continue efforts to sway me.  “Don't dig yourself in any deeper... it won't be as easy for you with your dad’s history and all.  And no support from anyone else.  I’m sorry, Chloe, but you know it’s true."

"Nah, anything could happen and you know I can be quite convincingly innocent when I want."  I couldn’t admit that Sage’s words were also thoughts that’d been pestering me for days.  

A second mouse head poked through the ceiling hole, staring at me in doubt.  My stomach rolled and I felt dizzy all of a sudden.  The walls felt like they were closing in, heart racing in near-panic.  I didn’t want to spend another second in that house.

"So take the day to think and sleep on it.  The answer will come to you in your dreams, like always."

"Thanks, friend.  For everything..."

"You're welcome.”  Before Sage could say more, I heard yelling in the background, then my friend shouting back, before finally telling me that our phone call needed to be cut short.  "Hopefully we'll talk soon.  Please call Izaak.”

"Maybe.  Good luck with everything."  I knew it'd be a while before I talked to Sage again simply because we were bad influences on each other, and Sage's being on house arrest would put callers on the radar, which I didn't need and we both knew that.  

My brain swirled with emotional thoughts, mostly guilt-related because I felt bad that Sage was in trouble for something I'd predominately been responsible for.  Guilt led me to think about Izaak and the idea of moving in with him.  He'd always told me that his home was my home, and I was welcome to stay with him whenever.  Even when he moved to New York he'd offered for me to join him, but we'd both known that I couldn't go with him anyway.  And maybe he'd just been offering to be nice.

Nah, Izaak wasn't like that.  In fact, he was the most genuine person I knew, along with Sage, which was quite refreshing in this world of people pretending to be something they're not.

Not having Sage to talk to anymore was really going to be hard.  Daily phone calls had become routine over the last few months, until the arrest, and since then I’d just felt empty.  I realized it most at that moment, sitting there staring at the hole in the ceiling and listening to the mice patter back and forth.  If I didn't have Sage, I'd have to find someone else, someone like Izaak who could guide me in the right way, make sure I found a purpose and got on the right track.  No more bad influences.

But Izaak had a very... traditional... view on discipline.  Was I ready for that lifestyle 24/7?  Okay, maybe he wouldn't enforce it upon me from the beginning, but if I went to live with him, I'd have to assume our relationship would eventually turn into him spanking me again.  It'd been so long since I'd gotten punished in that way.  In fact, Izaak had really been the only one to do it, though I'd received a ton of sensual smacks from guys off the internet, and a few "punishments" that ended when I started "crying."

All these thoughts gave me the idea to try something out.  As Sage had said, I needed to think about calling Izaak, which also meant that maybe I should take one final dip in the pool of crime before leaving the life altogether.  I snatched up my laptop and logged into my favorite fetish site.  I already had a ton of followers thanks to me providing a favor to an amateur photographer.  Fetlife users could see the best of my curves in color or black and white, with long or short hair, different styles and shades.  In some photos I was wearing fetish-type clothes, latex or schoolgirl uniforms, other times I modeled with objects or people.  A few pictures focused on my most intimate parts, though I only posted shots that left some of my anatomy to the imagination.

I scrolled through my feed to see if any active followers would be able to help me through my predicament.  It was hard to tell who would be up for the task, so I decided to post a ‘status’:  I got my friend in trouble and need a discreet, one-time punishment to help me feel better.  Anyone up for the task?

Messages flooded my inbox almost immediately, but I decided to busy myself with a shower.  At least if I looked my best, maybe I could stay someplace without unwanted furry guests.

I spent nearly an hour getting ready.  Before picking out my clothes, I had to see who I’d be meeting.  Might as well wear something pleasing to him.  It was also satisfying to know I had choices.

Unfortunately, the majority of my inbox was littered with disgusting guys who wanted to fuck me, or who had clearly not read my ad.  There were only a select few that seemed legit, one of them from someone with the name LieutenantPain:  Hello Pattie, I’m only in town overnight for business and am willing to provide you with the punishment for your misdeeds.  If you are serious about meeting and wanting to receive a proper spanking, message me with your phone number.  I will be at the Hillcrest Hotel tonight.

Curiosity empowered me to click on his profile picture, which was a dark silhouette of a man in a suit and tie, holding a paddle.  He didn’t have any other pics, only a few animations depicting daddy/daughter scenes.  I only gave his profile a quick skim -- married professional, not into real relationships, only wants one night stands.  Very much into realistic domestic punishments.  Eerie resemblance to Izaak.

This could be the perfect finale to my old life:  Meet up with a stranger, let him spank me, take advantage of his hospitality, sleep in a fancy hotel, dream about my decision, and just do it.

x-x-x-x-x

It was late in the afternoon when I arrived at the modern black and gold hotel lobby.  The cool airconditioning helped ease my nerves a bit as I glanced around for Lt. Pain.  I was grossly underdressed in my ripped jeans and childish Cookie Monster T-shirt (with matching panties) but had the feeling that he was looking for someone into ageplay.  Anyway, his profile had the aura of an actual father-figure so the idea of playing out that scene was kind of thrilling for me.  

As I waited, my eyes peered around the room, checking out the emergency exits in case I needed.  It’s habit to map out potential escape routes in order to care for my mind when it starts drifting into the dark abyss of worst-case scenarios.  At least then, whatever happens, I’ll be able to handle it.  That was something Izaak had taught me.

“Pattie?” came the gruff voice from behind.

I turned to see a tall, well-built man standing in a black suit with a blue striped tie.  His presence radiated authority, so much that his freshly shaven face and sharp cheekbones seemed familiar.  It was easy to slip into a state of submissiveness as I could tell he’d be able to provide a thorough scolding.  “Hello, Sir.”  My voice came out meek and I blushed slightly as I gave a shy smile.

“You and I need to have a long talk, Young Lady.”  His brows furrowed and he reached for my upper arm, then nudged me forward to walk with him.  It felt natural as if I was his actual daughter about to be in big trouble.

“Please let go... you’re embarrassing me,” I whined in my best preteen voice.  Glancing around the room I could see that nobody was actually watching us, though it felt a little off, almost like people were intentionally not looking.

“Not as embarrassed as you’re going to be in a few minutes when I put you over my knee.”

Gasping, I playfully pulled away a little, but he just tugged me back towards him.  We’d reached the elevator by this time and he pushed me inside as if I were a criminal, never breaking the strict-dad character.  My eyes rolled in classic pre-teen fashion and I glanced at myself in the reflection of the doors that’d just closed, noticing the resemblance between Lt. Pain and me: same facial structure and forehead lines.  He was acting so authoritative, though, which definitely wasn’t something I could pull off.  The little girl inside of me thought it’d be funny to try and imitate his stern expression, but he realized what I was doing before I could straighten my face.

He swatted my bottom mildly.  “Do you think this is funny?”

I bit my lower lip and shook my head, trying to feign innocence.

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Young Lady, and I expect a full confession.”  My stomach started twisting into knots and I realized my nerves were worse than normal.  Was it the mice from earlier, normal pre-punishment jitters, or my gut trying to tell me something?

Trying to distract myself, I attempted to lighten the mood using humor.  “You look like you can spank really hard.”  I reached up to feel his biceps and yup, hard as a rock.  What had I gotten myself into?

He finally smiled.  “I can.”  The elevator made a DING and the doors slid open.  The hand on my shoulder pushed me forward.  

My eyes darted around the hallway of the 15th floor as I followed Lt. Pain to his room.  The floorplan was in the shape of an H, with the elevators in the middle line.  The two hallways on either side of the elevators had three sets of stairs each, and one just happened to be fairly close to the room we ended up in.  

“After you,” he said with a smile, pushing the door open for me.

The scent of leather filled the air as we walked into the lounge area of his luxurious suite.  Floor-to-ceiling windows showed off the Dallas skyline.  Black modern furniture was scattered throughout the room, and a big screen tv hung on the wall.  A door separated the lounge area from his bedroom and the bathroom, so I couldn’t see what he had hiding in there.

The door closed behind us and Lt. Pain put the key in his suit pocket, then took the jacket off and hung it up.  “Have a seat, Young Lady, and start explaining yourself.”  I watched as he unbuttoned the right sleeve of his white shirt, rolling it neatly up to his elbow and showing off a well-toned forearm.  His eyebrows raised when he started on the left side, prompting me to get talking.

“What’s there to explain?  My friend is in trouble and it’s all my fault.”  I poked out my lower lip in a pout and plopped down on the leather sofa, big blue eyes gazing up at him, tearing up slightly.  “I shouldn’t have been such a bad influence, then maybe nobody would be in trouble.”

“How did you get your friend in trouble?”  His fingers moved to loosen his tie and I couldn’t avert my gaze from his large hands. I suddenly had the thought of how heavy they’d fall against my unprotected backside.  Maybe I should run while I still can…

“Just some internet stuff.  Nothing major.”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing major,” he said, stepping forward and folding his arms.  I felt really tiny right then.  He must’ve been at least 6’2”, and with me sitting down I felt much more intimidated, so looked away.  “Did you do something illegal?”

The uneasy feeling in my stomach became stronger.  Izaak’s face flashed into my mind and the disappointment he’d express if he knew what I’d done.  “We just played a prank on a few people and they didn’t like it.”

“Mmm… I sense that you’re not entirely remorseful yet.  But I know an easy fix for that.  Stand up.”

“But…”

“Up!” he thundered.  

I jumped out of my seat without another protest and followed him to the armless slipper chair stowed away in the corner.  He sat at the very edge and helped me over his left knee while locking me down with his right leg, then just started spanking me over my jeans.  “Ohhhh, please don’t spank me, Sir!  It hurts!”  It stung much more than I’d imagined, and I was unable to squirm because he had me locked in pretty good.

“It’s supposed to hurt, Young Lady.  It’s what happens to naughty little girls who break the law.”

More swats rained down on my backside and I clenched onto his calf to prevent myself from reaching back.  “Please nooooo, I’ll be a good girl…”  

“I know you will, especially after I get through with you today.”  The stingy smacks came down even harder and I yelped after each one, unashamed at the fact that I don’t have such a high pain tolerance.

He kept spanking me for another couple of minutes, ignoring my pathetic whimpers, then lifted me to my feet.  My hands reached back to rub the sting out of my bottom, but he had other ideas and grasped the button of my jeans.  “Oh noooo, don’t take those down!”  I reached to stop him and he swatted me on the thigh.  

“Get your hands out of the way, Young Lady.”  Without waiting for me to argue, he took my wrists in his left hand while he eased the button loose, then yanked my jeans mid-thigh and tossed me back over his knee.

“Please don’t!”  It wasn’t my style to fight much, but I did love the theatrics. 

“You should’ve thought about this before you put your friend in trouble.”  

“But…” before I could think of anything to say, he greeted me with a flurry of hearty swats to my panty-clad bottom.  “Oowwww, it hurtsssss…” 

“You will not break laws and you will tell me more details about your misdeeds because it’s hard to scold you for something that I don’t know what it is.”

In between my shrieks of pain I had to laugh because he had a point.  While it wasn’t advisable to give Lt. Pain many details,  I knew that Izaak would definitely use psychological punishment tactics on me.  To get the full effect of what I was signing myself up for, I had to at least disclose some of what I’d done.  Otherwise, how was I supposed to feel properly punished?  

“So?  What is it?  Tell me the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”  He alternated between each cheek, following a definite rhythm which made it easy to predict and prepare for the swats.  But then he started spanking harder and on my sit spots, where my panties didn’t quite cover.  His strong hand against my bare sit spots gave me second thoughts about confessing.

“I tricked someone into giving us money, and my friend got blamed for it,” I blurted out.  

“Tricked someone and let your friend take the fall?  That’s not very nice!”  He tugged my panties up so they wedged between my butt cheeks, and then slapped my butt in the middle, hard and fast, right where I’d feel it while sitting the next couple of days.

“Owwwwww!!  I knowwwwww it’s notttt but… I’m sorry!”

“Not as sorry as you’re going to be, Young Lady.”  He increased the speed and intensity of the swats, tugging my panties up even more so that I was starting to feel uncomfortable more than just from the spanking.  “And what happened with your supposed friend?”

The hard swats and guilt build up and also that nagging feeling in my gut made the tears begin to spew, and once I get started, I can’t stop.  And I get dramatic.  I was bawling.  “I’m sorryyyyy… I c-can’t take anymoreeeee!”  I covered my face with my free hand, sobbing hard.  “Please stopppp…!”

I could sense the confusion in his tense body at my sudden outburst.  We had agreed on a safeword (creative pineapple), so he must’ve suspected that I was just playing along with the punishment.  Which I was, even though it was partly genuine.  And if he was like all the other guys, he’d go along and we’d be finished before I knew it.  

That’s probably not how it’d be with Izaak though.  He could see through me better than most and knew how far to take the punishment for it to be effective.

“What happened with your friend that took the blame?”

“That friend…. Got spanked, and a mouth soaping.”

“Is that all?” Lt. Pain asked as he continued smacking my reddened bum, now focused only on hard swats to the sit spots.  “A mouth soaping, huh?  Something that you probably need as well.  And then a dose of the belt, and a detailed apology letter to the victim.”

“Noooo, none of that!” I pleaded.

A phone call prompted him to finish up the hand spanking and he lifted me.  “Take those completely off and get in the corner while I get your soap ready.”  Then clicked his phone, answering with a simple, “Yeah?”

I obeyed his wishes, rubbing my warm bum and I kicked my jeans off while he listened on the phone, standing.

“Well, if that’s the way you think it happened then investigate it.”  He covered the mouthpiece and mouthed “it’s my wife” and held up a finger to ask me to wait a minute.  Then he started walking towards the bedroom, opening the door and revealing his private domain.  Curiosity was killing me… I wanted to know what he had in there!  But it was too risky.

Instead of taking my blue Cookie Monster panties off, I un-wedged them from between my butt cheeks and listened as Lt. Pain continued to talk on the phone, seemingly going to the bathroom as I’d hoped.  It sounded like they were talking about something going on with his kids.  Even though he’d told me to go to the corner, I was going to wait till the last possible minute for that.  Then I caught a glimpse of his jacket hanging by the door.  His wallet was probably inside and a handful of credit cards.  His wife would certainly be pissed if I spent money in the right places using his card.

I paused for a minute to make sure he was still on the phone, then went for the jacket. Digging through the outer pockets yielded nothing valuable, so I reached inside the inner pockets and there it was -- rectangular and leather, surely his wallet with a shitload of credit cards. 

But when I opened it up, my heart stopped.  It wasn’t a wallet… it was an FBI badge.  Lt. Pain was in the FBI!!!  What the hell had I just gotten myself into?

“I hope you’re ready for a good mouth soaping,” I heard, realizing that Lt. Pain was on his way back to the lounge area. 

Shit!  

I dropped the badge and bolted out the front door, forgetting momentarily about pants and the fact that I had a red ass.  I only ran down a flight of stairs, then swiped a key card from the housekeeping cart which made it relatively easy to get into an empty room with guest belongings.  I snagged a new pair of jeans almost exactly my size, a cap and sunglasses (couldn’t take the chance of Lt. Pain seeing me again!), and a wallet the inhabitants had left behind.  Thank goodness for stupidity.

In my new disguise, I took the elevator and made it all the way outside before realizing that I’d left my phone in the hotel room with Lt. Pain, and shit, no Sage to help me make it self-destruct.  My passcode and extra security would prevent the average person from learning any info about me, but if Lt. Pain was FBI did that mean they were looking for me?  Or was it just a coincidence?  Regardless, I didn’t like to leave evidence anywhere.  

Instead of dealing with going home, I used the credit card I “found” to book my own hotel room -- a penthouse suite just a few blocks away.  I went ahead and charged up room service with all sorts of treats for myself before cutting up and flushing the credit card.  I had to stop this.  Sage was right that if I kept it up I’d find myself in heaps of trouble as well.  And not the kind of butt-warming trouble that Lt. Pain had provided.  But legit trouble.  

I reached for the hotel phone.  Who remembers phone numbers anymore?  I certainly didn’t.  But Izaak’s hadn’t changed since I’d met him, so the digits just came out as if my fingers had them programmed.  It only rang once before he answered.  Tears brimmed my eyes. “Please come.”