12 April 2020

Starting Over: Chloe's Consequences (Spanking scene only, M/F)


Spanking scene from Starting Over.  This is from Chapter 10.


Izaak sat on the sofa with his laptop, not looking up from the screen.  An icy chill settled in the background as I confirmed his fury was still present.  

Acting natural, I tossed my keys into my bag and slipped off my shoes.  “How was your day?” I asked in a peppy voice, pathetic attempt to make conversation.

An awkward silence enveloped us, Izaak typing away, and I wondered if he’d even heard me.  But then when I locked the door, he spoke: “Come sit, we need to talk.”

“Can we not?  I have an awful headache.”

The laptop clicked shut and Izaak set it on the coffee table, eyeing me seriously.  “It’s important.”

I groaned and pounded towards him, considering a tantrum.  “I shouldn’t have partied or left so suddenly, but I needed some fun and...”  I arrived at the couch and poked out my lower lip, trying to be cute.  

He wasn’t buying it, face straight, not entertaining my childishness.  “Sit.”  

With a huff, I plopped to his side and folded my arms, staring at the ceiling in annoyance.  

“Enough whining,” he snapped, tone cutting into me so I sat up and looked at him.  “You’ll have plenty to cry about when we’re finished here.” He let that sink in before continuing.  “What happened last night?”

I shrunk into my seat, blushing and wondering how much I’d need to confess.  “Don’t you already know?”

He huffed an exasperated sigh and stood, rubbing his hands together as he towered over me.  “I’d like to hear the full version.”

“But you saw,” I grumbled.

“Okay, if you wish.  I’ll tell you the narrative that’s running through my head.”  Izaak paced, counting my misdeeds on his fingers as he spoke. “You left paintball without a word to anyone, went to a bar in a dangerous part of town, drank and used drugs for hours, illegally gambled, ignored my calls and messages, then stood around outside in the middle of the night talking to gangbangers with guns.  What am I missing?” He stopped walking and turned towards me, giving me a look that could kill.

“Sounds worse when you say it.  Let’s just call it partying.”

“How many cigarettes did you smoke?”   

“I don’t remember.  I was too drunk,” I said hurriedly, sucking in a breath.

“You’re lying.”  Izaak stooped down to my level, face centimeters in front of mine, arms on either side of me, locking me in.  His black eyes were like coal sizzling in a fire. My tummy twisted into knots and throat dried up as he looked me directly in the eyes and asked again:  “How many?”

Chewing on my lip, I mumbled my response.

“Speak clearly!” 

His harsh tone caused me to flinch, tears welling as I cleared my throat.  “Twelve.”

“And you used cocaine?”

I turned away, but he reached for my chin, forcing me to face his disappointed stare.  The uneasy pit in my stomach grew and a teardrop streamed down my cheek. “Izaak... please don’t...”  

Lips pursed, he said, “something tells me this would move a lot quicker if you were over my knee.”

“Nooooo,” I begged.

“Then answer my questions and stop making this difficult.”

Now I really started crying, so forcefully that I wanted to hide in shame, but my friend didn’t allow it, clasping my wrists together with one hand, keeping a hold of my chin with the other.  My eyelids closed as more tears spilled out and I steadied my breathing. “Yes, I used coke,” I finally whispered.  

“What were you talking to those gangsters about?”

Another pain shot through my stomach and I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter.  “I already forgot.”

Izaak let out a grunt of displeasure.  “Let’s see if I can help you remember.”  Then he sat next to me and in one quick motion, jerked me over his knee. 

“Wait!  N-no... Please...”  I gasped, struggling to push myself up.  He put an arm around my waist to keep me in place and lifted my skirt.  “If the problem is my memory, how will this help?”

“Oh, it’ll help,” he promised, tugging down my panties.   The brisk spanking began, Izaak’s steel hand pounding against my defenseless bottom.  “I warned you this morning that I will find out the truth, even if we do this the tough way, kiddo.”  

The swats stung so intensely that I was kicking and squirming within seconds.  “Owww! Please noooo,” I pleaded, reaching to block. My efforts were useless, as he just dodged my pathetic barrier and peppered my cheeks and sit spots where I couldn’t cover.

“I’m done with your stalling tactics.  If you’d answer honestly, this would be over sooner.”  

The speed and intensity of his swats increased and I squealed.  “But I already told you that Violet owes them money!”

He stopped the thrashing for a moment and leaned down to make eye contact. “What else did you talk to them about?  There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“No there’s noooot!” I whined, blinking away a few tears.  

“What was Violet referring to when she said you saved her life?”

Shit... he heard that?!  “I don’t...” Before I could get the next word out, Izaak’s eyebrows and palm raised, so I reconsidered my response.  “I mean... I used my charm to convince the guys to give her more time to pay. She was thanking me for that, I guess.” 

He sighed in disbelief.  “If you insist.” 


I was cut off by the loud clapping of his hand against my unprotected, already sore bottom, significantly harder than before.  He hadn’t punished me so severely since the night we made the stupid agreement, though now it was worse. I writhed over his lap, gripping onto the cushions as my legs kicked in fury.  Tears spilled freely, no hint of ending soon. Guilt was eating me alive and mixed with the pain, I needed to confess everything, only held back by fear of how he’d take the news.

The spanking stopped so Izaak could speak.  “I went to the precinct today and discussed the evidence discovered on the perps last night.  Do you know what they found?” He didn’t give me the chance to answer. “Two guns, lots of drugs, and a bundle of money they believe to be connected to laundering.”  

Another assault was launched on my bottom, and it sunk in that Izaak had already figured out my crime. Gabe’s words echoed through my mind:  The truth always comes out. 

“I’ll ask again:  What was Violet talking about when she said you saved her life?”

Bawling and defeated, I replied, “I paid her dealer off.”

“Where did the money come from?”

My hesitation earned another barrage of hard swats to my burning backside, but prompted the confession he wanted:  “I stole it!”  

As the words spilled out, I covered my face in shame, racked with sobs.  Heart knocking against my ribcage, I feared the worst — he’s going to kick me out!  But prayed that after the spanking I’d just received, he’d forgive and forget.

Izaak’s body felt rigid as he waited for my cries to subside.  He didn’t rub my back or soothe me like normal, which put me on edge.  How mad was he? “Get ready for bed while I make dinner, and then we’ll take care of your punishment.”


“No buts, kiddo.  You’ve earned it.”  He paused to see if I’d argue, and I desired to, wondering how Violet would respond.  But before I could think of anything, Izaak continued, growing more annoyed. “You put yourself in multiple dangerous situations — that guy had a gun, Chloe.  A gun.  The area is known for its gang presence.  Why would you steal money from one of those guys?  What if they come looking for you?”

“How was I supposed to know that?  And why are you acting like such a dad? I’m not a child.”

He rained down a few more swats to my bare bottom and I squealed, regretting my words.  “Do I need to remind you of our arrangement again? We have over two weeks left.”

My legs kicked as I squirmed so he’d stop hitting so hard, but it was useless, so I just resigned to crying again. 

“You are a smart young lady, I’m sure you could have figured out that the neighborhood wasn’t safe.  I also warned you to be careful with Violet. She doesn’t have a clean track record — I thought it was obvious.”

“Izaak, stoppppp,” I begged, reaching a hand back to block.

The chastisement halted.  “You’re getting the spanking of your life tonight, kiddo.  Now, get ready for bed.” He patted my throbbing backside and I rolled off his lap.  

I dried my eyes and walked to my half of the living room, pushing the privacy screens away to squeeze inside.  Sounds of dishes clanging in the kitchen distracted me as I searched for pajamas, opting for blue cookie monster and a matching tank top in hopes it’d help my spanker feel sorry for me.  Though I knew it wouldn’t.

As I changed, I took a peek in the mirror at my butt — it was glowing and tender, very well-spanked.  All the way from the tops of my cheeks to the bottom of my sit spots. Ouch. And this was only the beginning!   

“Are you ready?” Izaak called from the kitchen.

His booming voice startled me, snapping me to reality.  “Yeah, coming!”  

It was an awkward meal, neither of us talking much.  I struggled to keep a conversation going, but his answers were short, irritated.  His brows stayed furrowed as he jammed salad into his mouth, focused more on eating than me.  The hurt reminded me of the amazing rush from last night’s law-breaking, yearning again to run away.  But it was too late now.

After dinner I cleaned up the kitchen, meticulously scrubbing the marble counters, washing the glasses and plates with care.  Izaak cleared his throat at some point, reminding me to hurry.  

When I returned to the living room, he was seated on the sofa, wooden hairbrush resting on the coffee table.  Next to it was a small wooden paddle with holes. I stopped when I saw it, hand over my mouth. “Don’t do this, please...” I begged.  “I learned my lesson earlier.” I reached to rub my still sore bottom.

“You smoked twelve cigarettes.  How many swats is that?”

Still massaging my bum, I muttered, “One hundred twenty...”

“Since you also used drugs among other illegal things, I will use the wooden hairbrush tonight.”  When I protested, he halted me. “Tomorrow morning you’ll run an extra two laps during our workout and...”

“What!  No way!” I stomped my foot, knot forming in my throat.

“And after, I’ll give you a final paddling before work for stealing and putting your life in danger.”

Like a little girl, crocodile tears fell down my cheeks, not happy about the extra harsh punishment.  And having to do it all over again tomorrow morning? I wouldn’t be able to sit all day, maybe all week!  “Izaak... noooooo...” I pleaded, breaking off into a sob.

“You know better than to behave as you did.  I suggest in the future, you think before acting.  Now, come here.”

I remained frozen in place, so he leaned forward, reaching for my elbow and jerking me towards him.  My body quivered, eyes unable to move from staring at that evil wooden hairbrush. He’d never used it before, but it looked brutal — dark brown, solid wood, about half an inch thick.  Mixed with Izaak’s disapproving frown was a recipe for disaster. I started crying even harder. “Please don’t! I’ll be a good girl, I promise!”

He nodded.  “We’re doing this, kiddo, there’s no talking me out of it.”  With that, he tugged down my pajama pants and panties to my knees, leaving me exposed only for a second before dropping me over his knee.  He put a leg over mine to lock me in, already reaching for my right hand as he circled my waist.

“Not too hard...” was my last plea, but I’m not even sure if he heard me because the wood popping against my flesh was too loud.  It hurt a million times worse than the plastic paddle brush he’d used before, and I was wailing with the first ten quick swats.  

“You are not to smoke cigarettes or use ANY drug while under my protection, do you understand?” he asked, landing the next hard and fast.

“Oooowwww, yes, Sir!”

He then concentrated on my sit spots and I shrieked with each blow, wrestling to break free from his grip and stop the assault on my backside.

“Pleaseeee, it hurts!”

“We’re not even halfway finished yet.”  Then landed another ten.

The pain throbbed so intensely that eventually I slipped into an unfamiliar headspace, feeling like a kid with zero control.  I sobbed, unable to struggle, though my hand gripped onto Izaak’s, squeezing it with each swat. The punishment felt well-deserved, the only way to absolve me my wrongdoings.  All of my guilt came to the surface.

“If you choose to continue being friendly with Violet, I suggest you figure out a strategy to evade her negative influence,” Izaak scolded over the deafening cracks of the hairbrush.

I blubbered a response, too submissive to argue.  I’d lost count by this time, the spanking never-ending.  My butt was probably black and blue, and my cries were so strong that hiccups took over. 

“Tonight you will work on art school applications, do you understand?  You need to stay busy to keep out of trouble.”

“Y-yessss, s-sir!” 

“And to be clear, if I ever find out you’re using drugs again, the penalty will double.”  With that, he gave me the final blow, an extra-hard swat on the middle of my bottom.

His grip on my hand released and I lay over his knee like a rag doll, hair matted to my face.

When I regained my composure some, Izaak tugged my pjs back up and lifted me up to sit on his lap, cradling my limp body in his arms.  I pressed my head against his hard chest, listening to his heartbeat. Now his muscles relaxed, and he breathed with ease. A fresh set of tears pooled as I considered confessing everything to him.  If he stuck with me after all this, perhaps he would help me stay out of trouble for my past.

I didn’t consider what to say, just opened my mouth.  “Hey, Izaak…” I began.

“Yeah, kiddo?”

I pulled away from his grasp and looked up, sniffling a little.  Just say it! a voice inside me screamed.  But the words were caught in my larynx, refusing to come out, body frozen.

Then the loud vibration of his cell phone shook the sofa, distracting us both.  He dug the device out of his pocket, glancing at the screen. “It’s work,” he grumbled, tossing me off his lap so he could go to his room to answer.  I sat there rubbing my warm bottom.

I guess the universe doesn’t think it’s time to confess.


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