He couldn’t say he was surprised, not really. Even the most determined people often admitted to the occasional backslide, and Abby had been coerced into giving up her smokes, so it wasn’t as if she had the motivation to begin with. According to whatever informant Mr. Green had at her work, she’d snuck off to the bathroom and returned soon after smelling like cigarettes. At first he was more irritated that Mr. Green had informants at her job and he was going to let her get away with it, until Mr. Green told him she was seen slipping a pack into one of her desk drawers.
He could have overlooked her bumming a lone smoke from a coworker, but the idea she’d intentionally kept a pack hidden away infuriated him. He’d been crystal clear from the start about rule one, and she’d not only broken it, she’d apparently never intended to keep it in the first place. Now he had no choice but to discipline her, and while he’d looked forward to the chance to bare her bottom and watch it blush beneath his palm, he would have preferred it happen for a lesser offense. He feared it was too soon to administer the type of punishment the transgression called for, that she wasn’t ready for it, but if he went easy on her, it was likely she’d continue sneaking smokes behind his back.
She came to a stop in front his bike, and for a moment they stared silently at each other. His breath caught as he watched her weigh her options. Her eyes flicked past him to her battered VW Bug at the back of the lot, then back to his face, staring at her own reflection in the mirrored lenses of his sunglasses. He said nothing, simply waited. It was obvious by her demeanor that she knew he’d been told. At last her mouth twitched and she dropped her head in submission, quietly taking her helmet from him and strapping it on before taking her seat behind him.
This time the ride held no erotic thrills for him. Though her arms were wrapped around his waist as before, her hold was tenuous at best. Her body felt taut and nervous behind him, and he doubted the engine’s vibration could compete with whatever was going on inside her mind. He’d told her she’d be spanked if she broke the rules; he never said how much, or where.
The where had been the hard part for him. He disliked the idea of taking her to Spectrum’s sprawling facility. Mr. Green likely had the entire place wired for video and audio, and while he trusted the man to be discrete, he didn’t know anything about the rest of the staff. For Abby’s sake, he didn’t care to risk her discipline becoming evening wank material for some faceless IT guy. He wasn’t comfortable doing it at her apartment, and he didn’t want his house to be associated with punishment from the start. Besides, he had company. In the end he decided the where needed to be where the transgression had occurred.
* * *
The blue chopper rumbled its way across town, through a number of increasingly deteriorated neighborhoods, until they finally pulled into the parking lot of a rundown gas station. The parking lot was littered with butts and broken glass, and the doors and windows had heavy iron security bars on them. Intuition hinted at the reason they were there, and Abby’s stomach churned. She quickly slid off the bike and stepped back as Chris dismounted. Wordlessly he took her hand and brusquely led her inside, pausing only to ask the cashier where the restroom was before practically dragging Abby back to it.
The restroom was small and without stalls. A single toilet sat in the corner beside a waste can overflowing with paper towels, and the floor was disturbingly wet around the toilet. The overhead fluorescent light did little to improve the room’s dismal appearance. Abby couldn’t help but remember the dire warnings her mother had always made about public toilets, how you could get STDs from the seats… or worse. The fact that the room smelled strongly of bleach and lemon scented cleaner did little to overcome her disgust.
Chris took a seat on the toilet and pulled Abby to stand between his knees and face him. Staring intently at her, he said nothing, waiting until the silence had her squirming nervously. At last, he spoke.
“I thought I made myself clear, Abby. Smoking is a deal breaker for me.”
“I know, but it was just, I mean, God, I was so stressed out and the patch wasn’t enough. I didn’t finish it, I swear!”
“Mr. Green called me, told me how you got a pack out of your desk drawer and slipped off to smoke. Why would you hide a pack in your desk if you were quitting, Abby?”
“Well, I couldn’t throw it out. It was a brand new pack!” She regretted the words before she’d even finished saying them. The sharp glare he gave her made her feel small and helpless, and for the umpteenth time since she’d walked out the front door and saw him parked in the lot, she mentally kicked herself for sneaking that forbidden smoke.
“I didn’t even want them to keep an eye on you. Told them not to. I trusted you. I believed you when you said you’d quit, and I believed you when you promised you’d call me if the temptation got too strong.” He paused and looked away, his jaw clenching tightly as he tried to remain calm. Taking a deep breath, he went on. “They didn’t need to tell me. I can smell it on you,” he growled. “I understand you were stressed, but you had other options. You could have called me, for starters. Instead, you broke your promise to me and that has consequences. Choose now, Abby. Cigarettes or me. I won’t ask twice.”
The bathroom disgusted her and the punishment that lay ahead scared her, but Abby didn’t have to think twice. Even as she trembled in nervous anticipation and fear, she knew she was lost to the man holding her now. “You. I choose you. I’m sorry, Chris. I screwed up and I’m sorry.”
His grip on her elbows tightened slightly for a brief second, then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When they opened again, she saw he was still angry with her, but also relieved.
He really thought I might choose the cigarettes over him, she marveled.
“I’m glad to hear that. But, Abby, being sorry isn’t enough. You deliberately deceived me by keeping that pack hidden, and then you broke your promise. I don’t have a choice. I have to spank you. Perhaps this will help you remember why little girls shouldn’t break promises to sneak off and smoke in dirty bathrooms. Now, pull your panties down and lie across my lap.”
She stared at him in disbelief, then at the wet floor at his feet. The idea of touching it filled her with revulsion. “You can’t be serious,” she argued. “It’s disgusting in here. I can’t believe you’d bring me here in the first place.”
“If you had snuck that smoke in your car, we’d be in your car. You’re the one who choose a public toilet, not me. Now, how many spankings do you think you deserve for smoking?”
“You want me to tell you how many times to spank me? Are you crazy? Okay, I say one.”
“Abby,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “I had hoped you’d show at least a little remorse over what you’ve done, but I’m starting to think you’re just mad that you got caught. I think twenty should be enough to make you understand how very serious this is. Now, please pull your panties down and bend over my lap, and let’s get this over with.”
Twenty swats? Abby’s eyes cut to the door. She could walk out the door and never look back, forget the whole crazy mess. She could find another guy to date. Sure, the others had always complained that she was insecure or immature, but even the worst of them wouldn’t have dreamed of dragging her into a gas station toilet and spanking her. Because they never cared, a tiny voice spoke up in the back of her mind. They only wanted to fulfill some jail bait fantasy with you, and when shit got real, they bailed. Chris wasn’t bailing, though. He simply sat and watched, waiting for her to decide.
As slowly as possible, she pulled her panties down to her knees, praying they wouldn’t slip and fall to her ankles and touch the wet floor. Reluctantly, she bent over his lap, holding onto his thighs as she lowered her chest to them. Her feet splayed out behind her, one shoe braced against the base of the sink as the other strained not to slip out from under her.
“You need to move forward and lie across my lap, Abby, so that your hips are against my legs.”
Oh, God, no. If she did as he order
ed, she’d have to put her hands down on the floor for support.
“Please, Chris,” she whimpered, her face burning with shame. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t make me do this.”
“I’m not making you do anything,” he said softly. “You can always get up and go back to your old life, smoke ten packs a day if you like. But,” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “if you want to be with me, then you’ll trust me and do as I ask.”
Abby closed her eyes and let her breath out slowly as she tried to push back the doubts. Trust him? She barely knew him. She could easily recall the way she’d felt on their date, the way his touch had set her on fire and the pride she’d felt being on his arm, but the thrill of their weekend date did nothing to drive away the bile that rose in her throat as she gingerly planted her hands on the wet floor. She didn’t know if she could trust a man who asked her to do what she was doing now, but if she didn’t, then she’d certainly lose him, and she wasn’t ready to let go just yet. Even now, with her stomach lurching in protest over the unsanitary surroundings, she couldn’t dismiss the thrilling shiver that raced up her spine when he flipped her skirt up to bare her backside. Or the fact that she was growing wetter by the minute.
“Put this in your mouth,” he commanded firmly as he held an unlit cigarette in front of her face. Obediently, she opened her mouth, and he popped the cigarette in. “The next time you want to smoke, I want you to remember all of this.”
Before she had time to think, his open palm slammed across her bare bottom. Startled, she yelped, spitting the cigarette out without thinking. Almost immediately another cigarette appeared before her.
“Put that in your mouth right now, and I want you to keep it there,” he ordered. “If you spit it out again, you’ll get an extra ten swats for disobedience.”
This time she gripped it in her teeth, and when his hand stung her backside again, she did not lose it. Her bottom was burning after just two swats, and she wasn’t about to earn herself an additional ten. The shame and humiliation of being paddled like a naughty child in a dirty gas station restroom was almost more painful than the actual spanking, and the fear of someone outside the bathroom door hearing her was more than enough to keep her from crying out as he blistered her bottom. Every inch of her backside was soon on fire as his hand expertly worked its way over her backside, never striking the same spot twice.
She wanted nothing more than to spit the now hated cigarette onto the ground. Out of nowhere she imagined him replacing the cigarette with his cock, and suddenly the pain morphed into a strange pleasure. To her shock she found herself arching up to meet his hand. Eleven. Twelve. Silently she counted off the stinging slaps, each one sharper than the last as her bottom began to glow red from her punishment. Fifteen. The tears finally overcame her determination not to cry and flowed freely down her shame and lust-flushed cheeks. Seventeen. The last time she’d been spanked was when she was ten. She’d tracked mud across the kitchen floor and her mother had blown a gasket over the mess. Elizabeth Joan had given her a spanking she’d never forget, and as the memory resurfaced, Abby finally lost control and bawled out loud. Nineteen. Twenty.
Shaking and sobbing, she spit the gnawed up cigarette to the floor and heaved herself up from Chris’ lap, wiping her wet hands across his jeans in a fit of pique as she did so. He said nothing, simply guided her to the sink and proceeded to scrub her hands clean. Avoiding the mirror, she fixed her eyes on her hands as he gently worked the lather between her fingers and clear up to her wrists. Part of her was still in angry disbelief over what she’d just allowed to happen, but another wanted to grab his hand and force it between her legs, to the wet heat that hungered for his touch.
He led her back out to the bike with his arm around her shoulders, reassuringly stroking her arm with his hand. All the way home she replayed the spanking, trying to sort out her feelings about the whole thing. For once the rumbling seat between her thighs held little attraction as she tried to understand why she’d allowed him to do such things to her. She’d always thought of herself as a no bullshit kind of girl, but what kind of girl would allow her boyfriend to punish her like a naughty child, and in such a gross manner no less, and then be turned on by the ordeal? Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she did need therapy.
He returned her to work and her waiting Bug and carefully helped her off the bike as if she were breakable china. For a moment she caught his eyes and was surprised to see they were filled with concern.
“I’m sorry, Abby, I really am,” he said hesitantly. “I don’t like punishing you, but when you break the rules, there has to be consequences.”
She nodded but said nothing. The shame was too fresh and her bottom too sore for snappy comebacks or sarcastic remarks. Mutely she accepted his warm hug, closing her eyes as she allowed herself to just enjoy his strong embrace. Wrapped in his arms, she could easily forget the restroom and her panties around her knees and his hand against her bottom and how she’d willingly let it all happen. And worse, how despite the gross surroundings and the stinging slaps, her body had practically lit up with desire and her pussy had ached for his hand to abandon her bottom and play with it instead.
When she finally returned to her empty apartment, it was all she could do not to call him up and beg him to come over and spend the night with his arms wrapped around her. Alone, she could no longer ignore her confused thoughts and desires, and it was well past midnight before her chaotic mind settled enough to allow sleep to overtake her.
Chapter Eight
She was awake long before the alarm went off, still trying to process what had happened the day before. She felt sulky and sullen and in no mood to go to work, not after being spanked like a naughty child. She knew he’d only done it to make her understand how serious he was, as well as teach her to associate smoking with her disgust at being spanked in the gas station toilet, but the emotions she’d felt from it left her confused. Part of her had been hugely turned on, another part crushed that she’d disappointed him, and yet another defiantly encouraged her to buy another pack and smoke the entire thing with one middle finger in the air.
She hit the snooze button three times before finally turning the alarm off and rolling over to grab her cell. In ten years she’d only called in sick twice, so when she told her boss her stomach was a wreck and she had a fever, he insisted she take the day off.
After ending that call, she checked her email. Most of it was junk mail, but there were two unread messages from Julia that she’d been avoiding for several days now. Her little sister had her emails set to notify her once they were read, and Abby wasn’t yet ready to reply to what she suspected was a lengthy admonition about her behavior at their last family dinner. A few minutes later, a text came in from Amanda asking if she was okay. She quickly texted her back.
Just a stomach bug. I’ll be fine tomorrow.
Abby snickered as she read Amanda’s rapid fire text.
Liar. I saw u leave w ur new man toy. Kick him out of bed and get ur ass to work!
With a grin, she sent a text back.
I wish.
The irony of her reply made her smirk. I swear I’m in the can every time I turn around. She couldn’t imagine what her new friend would say if she knew the truth. It might be the only time Amanda was ever struck speechless.
At eight-thirty a knock on the door came. Abby considered ignoring it, but if it was maintenance, they’d just let themselves in anyway. She heaved herself out of bed and stumbled down the hall to the door to find Chris standing outside it with several bags of groceries in his arms and a large pot dangling precariously from one finger. Ignoring her squawk of surprise, he pushed past her and headed for the kitchen.
“Given your idea of cooking is a bag of popcorn in the microwave, I wasn’t sure if you had any pots, so I brought my own.”
“What are you doing?” Without her morning coffee, Abby was barely awake enough to function, and his unexpected appearance had her mind whirling in confusion.
“Hey listen, really, I’m not that—”
“I know you don’t want your temperature taken, Abby, but it has to be done to make sure you don’t need to go to the doctor. Now, I want you to take off your panties and go bend over the couch and wait for me. I’ll be there in a second.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue with me, Abby. Do as you’re told.”
Her cheeks burning shamefully, Abby stood by the couch and slowly pulled her pajama bottoms and panties down, leaving them in a heap on the floor. The overstuffed couch had wide, soft armrests, and she bent over one now, her face pressed against the cushion while her bare bottom thrust up behind her. She couldn’t believe he’d found out about her calling in to work so quickly, and her heart quickened at the thought that perhaps she was about to be punished again for faking sick to stay home.
From behind her she heard a strange snapping sound. Glancing around, she watched him pull on a pair of latex gloves and proceed to thoroughly lube up one finger. Oh, I never should have looked! Whipping her head back around, she buried her face into the couch cushion once more, determined to keep her eyes closed until it was all over.
“Spread your legs for me babygirl, so I can see your bottom hole.”
Abby wanted to crawl under the couch and die of shame, but she suspected things would go a lot more smoothly if she did as she was told, so she shuffled each foot out to the side, further and further until at last he told her to stop. Holding her breath, she froze as his fingers gently massaged her cheeks, moving ever further in between them. When at last she felt his well-oiled finger gently probe her tight bottom hole, she bit the couch cushion and squealed into it.
Disciplining Little Abby Page 8