The Girl in Apartment 1203

by Paige Parsons

  "I'm sorry. It's just that all of that seems like a lot. I know. I know. I'm not saying no. Clearly, that's not an option on the table. I don't want to be greedy, Jack; you already do so much, more than I could ever imagine asking or getting."

  "How were you planning to ask a stranger, and you can't ask—"

  "You," she finished. Suddenly, she was glued to his side crying real tears, the deep ones that often aren't accompanied by sound.

  Holding her closely, Jack shook his head in surrender. They'd had this particular breakdown and then breakthrough at least once a month. Usually, it was over some little extra that she'd denied herself because she didn't want to walk outside the lines they had agreed to, even though Jack had told her that it was his decision on when and how far that line moved back and forth.

  When Keila was all dried up and back to breathing normally, Jack sat her up and turned his body into hers.

  "I'm here to make it better. I've always wanted to make things better. I go through all of these hoops with you because you don't want anyone to know about us. I want to tell everyone, but I promised not to push, so I don't. I am living up to my part of the arrangement, Keila, and you will start living up to yours. This was big, Kid, and I am not going to let it slide with a chat and a cuddle."

  "Jack, what does that mean?" The sound of her own voice was annoying to Keila. She knew she sounded the same way she did when her mom or grams was about to scold her, or worse.

  "It means go get yourself ready for bed. When we're done, you are going to sleep and maybe we can have a better welcome home celebration tomorrow. The only thing I want to hear is, 'yes, Jack.'"

  Keila gave him her best version of the pouty face that Brianna swore always worked on Michael. Jack was a much softer touch, so she kicked it up a notch and waited a few seconds. His resolve was a lot stronger than Michael's, apparently. Jack didn't even blink. As she pulled her lower lip back in, Keila got up and slowly dragged herself to her room. She stopped midway and looked over her shoulder, hoping to get a stay of execution. It did not come.

  Jack, couldn't help but smile at the memory. They'd both been nervous about Keila's first real punishment. Jack had called Michael, and unbeknownst to him, Keila had texted Brianna. He didn't know what their conversation was like, but his was drowning in doubt. Michael coached in his rapidly succinct manner and basically told his old friend to cowboy up. Three months in, and what happened that night would decide nights, days, and months to come. Jack knew fighting his stubborn Kid was not at all in his future plans. If he couldn't trust her to tell him the truth, he'd have to impress upon her the very unwanted consequences of not giving it to him. He would also be doing all of that over her panties and ending with some very platonic hugging that would result with him in yet another cold shower. That night, the line had been moved again, and they kept moving it so much over time that it mostly felt like there weren't lines or boundaries keeping them apart. Jack knew better, though.

  Three

  Keila

  Jack somehow always surprised her when he came into town. He slipped in early. He had things planned from the plane. He was a compulsive swooper. He swooped in and made their time together magical. Tonight, was her turn to create a little magic of her own. They wouldn't be going anywhere, and she planned on disrupting his system, going to his place before coming to see her or taking her out on the town until she was exhausted. Jack had a favorite meal, but he rarely indulged in it because he said at his age, he couldn't run enough miles on the treadmill to wear it off.

  Well, Keila was making it and from scratch. She'd practiced three times and was certain she had the recipe down pat. Homemade spinach and ricotta gnocchi with braciole steak. In all of her previous attempts, her gnocchi were like lead dough balls destined to clog a stomach for an extremely uncomfortably long time. Her dried out steak, she couldn't even get a knife through. If she wasn't studying or working, Keila was cooking. Brianna gave her endless grief about becoming so highly domesticated. Of course, Bri was far from being anything close to domestic. When Michael was out of town, she was auditioning or taking private lessons in dance, acting, and singing. When Michael was in town, the two of them were holed up in their apartment or flying off to discover some new romantic location around the world. Even though the glamour of their jet setting was hard to ignore, Keila was still happiest hanging out in the kitchen with Jack, watching old movies with Jack, listening to music with Jack—when they could agree on what to listen to—and snuggling with Jack. She didn't need the fancy trips or hotels—they were a treat, though—the thing Keila needed most was Jack. The problem was that Jack didn't seem to need her in the same way, and she wasn't sure what it would take to turn things around.

  Six months ago, before Brianna and Michael's wedding and Bri's graduation, Keila had been in a uniquely desperate situation. From the outside looking in, someone could say it was of her own making and she deserved the pending stress and struggle that evolved from it. She'd had the option of sticking to the norm of every college student on campus, stay in dorms, work your campus gig, and stretch your family's allowance, but no, instead, Keila had become best friends with her RA whose life was anything but the norm. Brianna, before they'd met, had joined a website called Purposeful Mate. It was a site dedicated to matching mature gentlemen (the sugar daddy) with significantly younger women (the sugar babies) for an ideal relationship. To hear Bri describe it, the relationship focus could be monetary, romantic, platonic, or just keeping company. The most important aspect was that these men had money and weren't afraid to pay for exactly what they wanted. She'd gone through her share of duds before landing on Michael, but once they found one another, it was all romantic. The monetary benefits became gravy. Keila fit into the equation as the ultimate in cover stories for Brianna's family. They would've known she couldn't afford the place she was moving into alone, so the girls came up with the great roommate scam, and it worked on both families. The problem came when Bri was set to graduate a year before Keila and planned her wedding for a few weeks later. Keila couldn't keep up their lifestyle on her own, and it was either go back to the norm or jump into the sugar bowl.

  The sugar bowl, sure it sounded sweet and full of possibilities but there was always a little corner of Keila's brain that thought there had to be something broken in the people who participated, even though she knew first hand that there was nothing wrong with Brianna or Michael. But, for her, she knew she was broken. Her daddy issues were very real. She didn't know him. Had never even seen a picture of him. For most of her life, it was a two to three times a year pity party she allowed herself to have. Things were different the moment she met Jack. The sweet widower never had kids of his own, but he somehow had the daddy thing down. No matter how overbearing Keila would've found the same actions coming from her mother or grandmother, when they came from Jack, it just made her feel special and loved and cared for in a way she'd been missing more than she even understood. Whenever Brianna wanted to talk to her about it, her growing feelings for Jack, Keila would put her off with flip comments and snide comebacks. Bri didn't buy it for a second. She knew something was there between them, but Michael made her promise to butt out. At least that's what Bri would say to her as she threw her hands up in surrender to Keila's denial.

  Brianna may have been a musical theatre major, but the girl could've minored in psych. Instead of pushing Keila toward Jack, her bestie pushed her into the sugar bowl. Brianna was the queen of pushing. Her tenacity toward things concerning Keila's life was only rivaled by her mother and grams. Keila's mistake, or fortune, was in sharing her plans for the future with Jack. He was far less enthusiastic than Brianna or Michael. Actually, he'd downright forbade her from jumping into the proverbial sugar bowl. In one twenty minute conversation, he went from being just Jack to being Papa Jack, Keila's very own sugar daddy. It was all so fast, but it felt right. It was Jack, and everything with Jack felt right. Initially, because things did move so quickly, they both agreed that it would
be a real platonic sugar daddy relationship. Keila liked to tease him by calling him Papa Jack at home and on the phone when he was around people and couldn't retaliate, but in public, he was just Jack. Jack who took care of her, Jack, who paid all her bills, Jack, who set up her internship, Jack, who fussed when she was late, absent minded, or a flaky twenty-one year old. Jack, who had become everything to her and, during the last nine months, Keila realized she wanted more. She wanted things to shift. What she was feeling every time she was around him was anything but platonic. If Jack so much as placed his arm around her shoulder, Keila's nipples would react. The first few times, she chalked it up to general horniness. She wasn't a virgin, and it had been a long time since she had even kissed anyone. Hormones could make you crazy and have you reacting to a swift breeze. That was how she presented it to Brianna when she just couldn't keep it to herself anymore. To say Brianna wasn't buying it would be putting it mildly. It was why she loved her like a sister. Your sister could call you on your bullshit better than anyone and she had an unfettered license to do so.

  Even the upperclassmen at school didn't do it for her anymore. Her final proof that she was a goner for Jack was being in Professor Boudreaux's class. That man was a sexual fantasy waiting to happen. All that tan skin and those hazel eyes looking at you from behind his perfectly round rimless glasses had most girls in his class squirming in their seats for all the wrong reasons. It was a miracle anyone ever passed. Hell, even some of the guys were taken with him. Everyone recommended the class with comments like, "You have to take it. He's just the best. He really makes you understand." His French accent didn't hurt things, either. The man could spend ninety minutes reciting the alphabet, and there would still be a waiting list to get into his class.

  This was where Keila was stuck. She knew how she felt about Jack, but she couldn't get a read on him. Sure, he still had the sugar daddy role down pat. What she didn't understand was how her feelings were changing for him, but his needle didn't seem to move at all. Either he was better at compartmentalizing, or there really wasn't anything there. That would be seriously hard to accept, but she might not have a choice. This dinner, she hoped, would move them a little closer to her desired outcome. After her romantic notions had cold water thrown on them when she tried to turn a post spanking cuddle into their first sexual encounter, Keila was feeling stuck in a loop of uncertainty. The letdown may have been gentle, but it was still a letdown. Keila could still remember crying herself to sleep after he closed her bedroom door that night.

  Standing in her bedroom, Keila was starting to rethink her choice to tough out her money issues until Jack got home. In the moment, it seemed easier to wait until he got back, instead of disturbing him with her inability to handle money. Sure, she needed the cash for real necessities, but still, it felt a little frivolous considering what he'd left her should have been enough.

  Contemplating previous bad acts wasn't going to stall her current situation. And, it was a situation. They'd had the consequence discussion on more than one occasion. Most of them stemming from Keila having taking some poor advice from Brianna. It was becoming increasingly clear the bratting that Michael found so endearing wasn't something that Jack was a fan of, on any level. Go to your room meant get ready for bed and sit and think about your poor life choices until told to do otherwise.

  As she moved around her bedroom, Keila could hear Jack in the living room. He was probably checking and double checking that everything was turned off and locked. Like she hadn't been doing it every night the whole time he was gone. Well, there were the few nights she hadn't used the deadbolt and chain on the front door, but it did not feel like a good time to mention that to Jack.

  Keila sent a quick text to Brianna with the opener, 'Do not call me back!!' She had to say that, because if Bri thought she was in any type of distress, she would ring the phone down and not even bother with reading the messages sent.

  Brianna: Why can't I call?

  Keila: Because I doubt Jack would appreciate me chatting it up with you when I'm supposed to be getting ready for bed.

  Brianna: Ready for bed? What did you do? Didn't he just get home?

  Keila: We had a disagreement about money.

  Brianna: Good Lord, not that again. Just take what he gives you.

  Keila: Not why I texted you. I think this might be a real deal, full on spanking. Like over his knee. You know, the kind that takes a while and involves my naked butt.

  Brianna: Yes! You're gonna get some of that make-up sex. Michael calls it reconnecting, but I just call it mind blowing.

  Keila: Focus! And, gross, you know I don't want to hear about you and Michael…

  Brianna: You texted me, remember? What's the problem? I know you want to get horizontal with Jack. Trust me, you get real apologetic and real sweet and those hands will go from spanking to caressing real quick.

  Keila: Why do I bother with you?

  Brianna: You love me and I give great advice. Good luck.

  Keila: Brianna!

  Keila: Ugh! I'm gonna murder you when I see you.

  Keila put her phone back on her dresser and sat with her back against her headboard. Maybe she should have gone with a shorts set or pants pajamas. A night shirt was way too much easy access. Great, her mind was wandering. She couldn't hear him moving around the kitchen and living room anymore, which had to mean he was in the bathroom or headed her way. Her answer came when she heard the doorknob to her bedroom click with his turn.

  Scrambling to move to a less reclined position, Keila was scooting to the edge as his body came into view. This reminded her of the first time he walked into her bedroom in the old apartment. She knew she looked guilty of something, even though she'd been doing exactly as he asked.

  "Nothing." It sounded ridiculous and incomplete to her ears as soon as she got it out.

  "Nothing, what?"

  "Never mind," she added as she got to her feet. "Jack, please don't be cross with me."

  Jack took her hand and led her back to the bed, only this time, he sat and purposefully kept her standing a bit off to his side. Keila knew this didn't bode well for her slim chance plan of talking him out of this whole punishment thing.

  "Keila, focus on me, please. I am not simply cross with you because you left dishes in the sink overnight. I am seriously exasperated at the fact that the cornerstone of our relationship, this entire daddy arrangement, was about me taking care of your needs. The biggest one…"

  "It's not the biggest one," Keila practically whispered.

  "I apologize." Jack kissed the hand he held in his, "You're right. It isn't the biggest one, but it is important. It's also important that you do not keep things from me, not the big things or the small ones. When it comes to taking care of you, Keila, they're all big things to me. Knowing you were running out of money and that you would rather have something get turned off instead of just calling me is woefully unacceptable, and it had better never happen again. Do you understand me?"

  Not thinking it possible, Keila was feeling worse than she did when he first sent her in her room. All she could manage was a head nod as tears silently slid down her face. She never, ever wanted to hurt Jack, and it was becoming painfully clear, from his actions and his words, that that was what she'd done. Sure, he was upset, but most of all, he was hurt. There was only one way to fix things now. She had to cooperate.

  "Keila, what have I told you? I expect to hear your answer."

  She cleared her throat. "Yes, Jack. I understand. I know I already said this, but this won't happen again. I promise."

  "I would save some of those tears. Over you go." Jack's voice had gone from semi soothing to a deeper, scolding bass.

  Well, that switch flipped quickly. Jack took one decisive tug on her wrist and brought her over his firm thighs. As she landed and felt him situate her for his comfort and not her own, Keila couldn't think of any way Brianna found this sexy. Keila felt ashamed and thoroughly dressed down.

  He didn't utter anothe
r word as he folded her nightshirt up above her backside. He didn't make a move toward her granny panties; she preferred that old time name versus the reference to her monthly that Brianna used. Whatever, a thong didn't seem like the right garment for the occasion. She was sure her sister would disagree. It didn't matter as long as, by some grace, she was allowed to keep them up.

  When the first smack landed, Keila wasn't sure which registered first to meet up with her anticipation, the sound or the fury. These weren't the fun smacks of joking around or even the warning swats of going too far. This was something altogether different. There was a focused intensity in each pop that landed that confirmed his frustration and resolve. There had been no discussion of how long this might continue or a specific number of spanks, but Keila started to hone in on the pain and less of everything else when the thunderous smacks reached number fifteen.

  Jack's hand was covering a lot of area and, still, he made it his business to alternate from cheek to cheek. His hand had never seemed so big before, but it was doing a great job of imitating a paddle. Stubborn or stoic, Jack would have to tell her what he thought when he wasn't concentrating on searing her hind parts; whichever it was, Keila was done with it and started crying for real. There was no holding it in. Between the pain in her butt and the pain in her heart, she had to let it out. Her sobs got bigger, until she could do nothing but collapse in release. She didn't even realize when the smacks stopped and the rubbing began. That wasn't so bad. Her mind wasn't able to bring the connection between the pain and pleasure brought on by a single appendage.

  "Keila, Kid, come on now. Let's get you up."

  Jack felt the vibrations coming from her and figured she was saying something,

  "I didn't really catch that, Kid."

  "I said I don't want to get up."

  "Well, there's one thing I can promise you, if you keep hanging upside down like that, there'll be a pain in your head to match the one in your bottom. Now, up."