Chapter Two
“Brittany Jean! Get your little butt out of bed, now!” Brett pounded on the door.
“Get a fuckin’ life, Brett,” came the reply.
Brett growled, pounding again. “I’m not in the mood for this today. Open this door, or I swear to God, I will kick it in!”
“Fuck off, I’m sleeping.”
BAM! Brittany suddenly sat up in bed as the door flew open, splintering at the hinges. Brett stalked over to the bed and ripped the blankets away. His sister squealed, wearing only a short tank top and panties.
“Get dressed now, or I will dress you myself.”
“Get out of here, you goddamn, mother-fucking pervert!”
Brett had enough. With a snarl, he sat on the bed and yanked Brittany with one strong arm over his lap. Her panties were on the floor with her bare bottom raised high on his knee before her first loud protest. In one fell swoop, that same bottom bore the mark of his work-hardened hand.
“OWWW!” Brittany wailed, trying to reach behind her to block another blow.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Brett stated, grabbing her wrist and holding it firmly to the small of her back as he wrapped his free leg over her thighs, “This time you will see I mean business. Like I said, I’ve had enough!”
His broad palm whooshed down upon her right cheek and was quickly followed by another blow to the left side. Brittany shrieked out her objections, all the while calling him every curse word she could think of. There was no way she would let him make her cry!
“I love you, sis, but I can’t tolerate this vicious disposition anymore,” Brett said as he fired rapid, searing whacks to her squirming, reddening backside. “I intend to help you make major changes in your life whether you want to or not, and if this is how I need to do it, then it’s your choice!”
“Let me go!” Brittany shouted, unable to escape his hold or relieve the agonizing pain brought by his hand as it unmercifully focused on the pale flesh between her rounded hind end and her thighs.
“I will let you go when I darn well feel like it. And if I hear one more curse word directed towards me, I swear that I will take a hairbrush to this little behind of yours,” Brett promised, watching as her skin started to turn a crimson red. He quickened his strokes, pounding her bottom with a blur of biting swipes that made her rump bounce like she was being stung by wasps. She was pinned tightly under his left arm and between his knees, her backside high in the air for the repeated punishment delivered in solid, unwavering spanks.
“Please, stop… I’m sooooorrrry!” Brittany cried out, the tears suddenly gushing from her eyes. She had never felt anything that hurt so badly!
Brett paused. “What are you sorry for?”
Brittany was crying so hard that she could not get the words out. Brett heard stutters of “brat,’ “mean,” “cussing,” and “not minding you,” mixed between her sobs. He sat her up next to him on the bed and looked into her red face.
“You’re breaking my heart, Britt,” he told her. “Please, go back to being the sister I adore. I don’t know who you are anymore, and it hurts.” He held her tightly as her tears subsided, then kissed her forehead and stood up. “Get dressed and let’s go. No more stalling.”
“But…okay,” Brittany sniffed, unable to find the strength to argue with him. He nodded, knowing that her bottom hurt way too much to risk another bout of his new method of ensuring her cooperation. She remained silent as she slipped on a pair of sweats and her sneakers, and together, they left for their walk.
The early summer morning was lovely. Birds flitted in the tree branches, and a slight breeze tickled the leaves as they walked through the quiet forest. The sound of a runner caught their attention, and within minutes they were face-to-face with their new neighbor. Reed.
“Hey! Where did you come from?” Brett asked as Reed skidded to a stop with surprise.
He pointed down the path. “Just bought the cottage near the stream. How about you?” Reed asked, catching his breath.
“The log house down that way. Wow, we’re close by. What do you think of that, Britt? It will be good to have a friend near us, don’t you agree?” Brett asked, eyeing his quiet sister. She was facing the ground, keeping her still red face away from Reed's watchful eyes.
When she did not answer, Reed filled in the silence. “Let me know if you hear Harry. He likes to scream for help when I take him into the shower.”
“I thought parrots liked showers,” Brittany said in a shy voice, glancing up.
“Normal parrots. Mine thinks he’s a cat, remember? Hey, maybe we can get together sometime. You two like grilling?” Reed asked, raising his eyebrow upon seeing Brittany’s red nose and slightly puffy eyes.
“If it’s food, then I like it. Britt’s a killer cook, too.”
“Are you saying she might want to poison me?” Reed teased, eliciting a small smile under her veil of hair.
“No, not you. I’m on the poison list today. She finally pushed my patience.”
“Uh-oh,” Reed said as Brittany’s face took on a bright blush. “Well, I’m sure everything will be much better now, won’t it, Britt?”
“You wish,” she muttered. “Do you know of any rocks I can climb under right now? This is so embarrassing!”
Both men chuckled and chatted a few more minutes before parting. Plans were made for the two to start carpooling to work and then meet for dinner that evening. Brett elbowed her playfully. He knew his twin well, and was certain that her opinion of life had reached an all-time low and that the thought of trying to sit upon her tender rear in the presence of this handsome stranger would send tremors of apprehension throughout her body. Good, he thought, maybe she will think twice before being such as brat next time. He was also certain that her humiliation would have grown even more had she seen Reed turn to admire her curvy backside as they parted ways.
Leaving her with a list of chores to complete before he returned home from work, Brett landed a quick kiss on his sister’s cheek with a warning of what would occur should she disobey him. Brittany nodded, her lower lip sticking out and unable to look him in the eye. Satisfied that he had finally got her attention, Brett departed, whistling the tune from Snow White's Seven Dwarves.
Finally alone and grumbling that her brother should have picked the theme from Cinderella, Brittany reached around to rub her still tender rump and stared at the list.
Clean the kitchen
Sweep the floors
Make a shopping list
She hated cleaning. All her life there had been someone around to clean up after her. Her mother attempted teaching her the basics when she was very young, but consistency was not practiced due to her father’s frequent interference. Brittany flushed shamefully as she truly faced the consequences of her father’s indulgence and her own lack of discipline. Carmen Wallace, a man insistent on maintaining a certain appearance to the public eye, had been certain to teach his children that things in life could be bought or bartered for, and he frequently undermined any attempt that his wife made to instruct their daughter in independence. Brittany sighed, remembering how her father would bellow when he first discovered that Helena hand washed her own delicates! At the time, she agreed that it was ridiculous to do what you paid people for. But now… if she had learned what her mother had wanted to teach her, things would have been different. Odd how dissimilar her siblings were to one another. Maybe it was because they were boys. Brett had adopted his mother’s view of life and loved being independent of their father’s wealth and need to maintain appearances, while Stephen… well, he loved money and social status, however, he was also eager to use his hands and perform physical work as well. Especially if it meant being away from his own home.
Brittany glanced at the list again, her bottom throbbing at the thought of what Brett would do if she did not complete his simple tasks. She hesitated before going into the bathroom and peeling down her shorts to inspect the damage. Catching a glimpse of her still burning back end, s
he bit her lip as she surveyed the redness occupying the lower portion of her cheeks and the spackles of tiny purple bruises left by Brett’s fingertips. With a shiver, Brittany willed herself to try to be reasonable and acknowledge that her brother was really not asking too much of her. Rubbing her sore backside, Brittany also promised herself that she would help him if she could. It was the least she could do for all the trouble she brought him. He just better not start treating her like a maid!
Brittany was surprised how little time it took for her to complete her chores. In just a little over an hour, she had knocked out the tasks of Brett’s list with ease. A surge of pride welled through her as she surveyed her work and the immediate difference it made in the house. Encouraged, Brittany rummaged through the pantry and found the ingredients to bake apple turnovers. She thought of Reed with a blush. He had ordered an apple pie last night and would probably enjoy these too! That is, if he did not compare her to Snow White's evil stepmother who enjoyed poisoning her victims with apples.
Filled with happy energy, Brittany got to work. With the turnovers in the oven, she started cleaning the living room and the downstairs bathroom.
“Britt? I’m home… Holy cow! What happened here?” Brett exclaimed, standing in the doorway. The air was filled with the scent of baking, the wood floors were clean and shiny, all the old newspapers and magazines were gone, and the living room was rearranged. He glanced in the kitchen. It was spotless.
“It seems like all she need was a firm hand on that cute little posterior to provide some motivation, huh?” Reed asked his new friend with a knowing smile, lifting his nose as he sniffed the air. “Maybe I should hire her to keep my place clean.”
“It might be something to consider. Brittany!” Brett called again, offering Reed a seat after handing him a bottle of water.
Brittany trotted down the stairs, wrapped in a towel. “Hey Brett, I was in the shower and…oh!” she blushed, seeing Reed. She turned around and raced back upstairs, but not before he caught a glimpse of her long, shapely legs and the curve of her bottom peeking out from under the short cloth.
“That was an unexpected, but very pleasant view,” Reed gave a lopsided grin, the image of that bottom triggering his imagination. “I’ll see you in an hour, okay?”
“Sounds like a plan. Thanks again for the ride!” Brett saw Reed to the door.
“Is he gone?” Brittany asked, sticking her head around the corner of the hallway.
“He’s gone. Come on down, you’re safe from prying eyes. You did a great job today! I’m so proud of you! Reed is even thinking about you helping him with his place and maybe earning some spending money,” Brett praised, hugging her affectionately. Brittany blushed, shrugging as she shyly smoothed the yellow sundress over her hips.
“It’s no big deal. I made turnovers for desert tonight,” she stated, pleased with his praise. It made her feel like a little girl again. She liked it. She also felt herself longing to hear the same words slip out from between Reed’s very kissable lips.
“I love turnovers! So, how’s your butt?” Brett asked casually, watching as she slowly sat on the couch next to him with a pained expression.
Brittany reddened. “It hurts still. I can’t believe you actually spanked me, Brett. When did you get to be so strong?” she asked with a frown.
Brett chuckled, leaning back and crossing his long legs as he sipped his water. “I’m a cop. Part of my job is to apprehend criminals. It makes sense to be strong enough to defend myself if I need to, right? Of course, I never anticipated the need to apply my strength to my twin’s rear end, though.”
“Well, don't do it again. It is inappropriate,” Brittany grumbled with a wrinkled nose.
“I have never been one who cared much about being appropriate or keeping up appearances, and you know it. Besides, it obviously worked wonders and gave you something to think about. You really did an incredible job in here.”
“You seem to be getting along with Reed. Tell me about him,” Brittany asked in an attempt to shift the subject from the condition of her ass to a more pleasant one.
“Decent guy from Bakersfield. He’s been through his own hell and back and really understands the process of our addiction. I’m glad he’s so close; it will be nice to have someone around to help keep an eye out for you and keep you from getting into more trouble. He also believes in a firm approach to a naughty backside,” Brett commented slyly, watching as she grimaced.
“Isn't he your boss? I thought you weren’t allowed to socialize with your uppers.”
“Supervisor. This branch is small enough that we don't worry too much about crap like that. He and I are going to start working out together, too. I think he might be attracted to you,” Brett teased. “I know he likes the shape of your ass.”
“He better not try to spank me. I will not tolerate it.”
“Sis, I hate to say this, but if you deserved it, I would not be at all shocked or surprised if he did just that. Like I said, I think he has the hots for you, although I can’t imagine why. You're short,” he grinned, knuckling her thigh.
“And you are tall, but he likes you.”
“But he isn't attracted to me.”
“How do you know? We look the same,” Brittany teased back.
“He's not my type. Sorry!”
Although fraternal, they looked undeniably alike, with nearly identical coloring and facial features. Only their physiques differed, with Brett taking after his father with a much taller, broader, and more muscular body type compared to Brittany's generous curves and shorter frame inherited from her mother.
“I’m going to get cleaned up and changed. Do something with that hair. You’ll scare away a crocodile if you go out in public looking like that,” Brett teased, smacking Brittany’s thigh playfully as he stood. His sister stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed happily. It was starting to feel like old times again.
* * *
The two arrived at Reed’s home, apple turnovers in hand. He answered the front door adorned in a blue frilled apron tied haphazardly around his waist. He reddened as both Brett and Brittany started laughing as they pointed to it. Reed yanked it off. “I couldn’t find my ‘Iron Chef’ apron, and I didn’t want to wipe sauce on my pants. This stupid thing was my ex-girlfriend’s and… oh, never mind. Come on in and make yourselves comfortable,” Reed tried to explain, unable to get a word in past their hilarity.
“Thank you for the invite, Miss Simms. Here’s dessert,” Brett teased, snorting as he laughed at his new friend’s uncomfortable expression.
“Very funny, Wallace. You can really be an ass, can’t you?”
“I work hard at it, just ask my sister.”
“He is telling the truth, Reed. He can be a huge jerk, trust me,” Brittany smiled.
“But ya still love me lots,” Brett laughed, wrapping his arm around the front of her neck and grabbing her nose with his free hand.
“You are in a mood tonight, aren't you? Will you please not do that? I am not ten anymore! Grow up, for God's sake,” Brittany scolded and she smacked at his arms, trying to escape his brotherly torture.
“She always hated that,” Brett laughed, hugging her, “When she was little, Stephan and I used to steal her nose to make her cry. I still can't resist it when she is feeling uppity.”
“You have an adorable nose, and one worth stealing, Miss Brittany,” Reed said with a laugh. He lifted the plate to his nose and inhaled deeply, “These smell great, Brittany. Did you make them all by yourself?”
“With her own two little hands and from scratch! I told you she is a fabulous cook. Wait until you taste them,” Brett boasted proudly as his sister nodded, blushing modestly.
“We could skip dinner and go straight for dessert, you know,” Reed suggested hopefully.
“No, dinner first. Don’t you boys ever grow up? Oh, for crying out loud!” Brittany eyed them both as they broke off a small piece of the turnover to taste.
“Growing up is overrat
ed, especially when it comes to food. Oh, Britt… Honey, this is heaven!” Reed exclaimed, grabbing a pastry and sinking his shining white teeth into the crispy crust. Brittany looked pleased, his praise making her feel special… important… worthwhile.
“Told you so. She used to get underfoot at home demanding recipes from our private chef. That was a scene to remember, too. Poor guy did not speak a word of English, so she would talk to him with an Italian accent and get angry because he laughed at her. She was quite the character as a child.”
“A cute one too, I would imagine. How long did it take before you realized you weren't speaking Italian, Britt?”
“I wasn't?” Brittany feigned disbelief, slapping her brother's hand as he tried to sneak another sample of the pastry. “No more! You don't want to make me upset,” she warned.
“Uh-oh… that is the same look Mom gives me when I sneak into her Baklava. I suppose we better put this up before Miss Bossy-butt yells at us for spoiling our dinner,” Brett said, seeing his sister put her hands on her tiny waist and force a frown despite her immense pleasure at their reaction.
“Speaking of which, how is that little butt feeling?” Reed asked playfully, putting the dish on the countertop.
“That is none of your business, Lt. Simms.”
“Maybe not, but I’d still like to know. It seems that getting your bottom roasted helped tremendously with your mood. Oh, chillax, kid, I’m just teasing you. Get used to it,” Reed grinned, ruffling her hair as her temper started to rise. For some odd reason he found it enjoyable to get a rise out of her, perhaps because it seemed to be so easy!
She sniffed distastefully. “With Brett around, I get plenty of teasing, so cut it out. And don’t pet me! I’m not a cat. Speaking of which, where’s Harry? I want to meet him.”
“Oh yeah! I forgot about him for a minute. He must be listening to everything since he’s so quiet. Follow me.” He led them into the living room and towards a large, ornate cage where the African Grey perched. The bird was hanging upside down with his head tilted towards their direction, obviously interested in the conversation. “Brittany Wallace, this is Harry Houdini. He’s an escape artist and a bit of a jerk. Be careful, he’s a biter.”
Painful Consequences Page 3