Emma drinks too much, and her guardian punishes her.
The phone rang loudly, echoing through the empty hallway. Trey groaned and looked at the clock that read 2:04 am. He answered the phone with a tired scratchy voice. “Hello?”
“Hey, Trey?” the man on the other line said.
“Yeah,” Trey said irritably.
“This is Josh, Jaina’s brother.” Ahh, Trey thought. The girl that Emma was staying the night with. “Look, Emma is completely trashed… she can barely walk, and Jaina isn’t much better. She’s trying to talk us into letting her drive home, but we won’t let her. She’s just whining that she wants to go home…”
Trey sighed. He knew that Emma would get in a mess like this. After all, it was the last day of school and Jaina was known for her parties. He felt the anger and disappointment rise through his body. She had lied to him… said that it was just a sleepover and they wouldn’t do anything wrong. True, he wasn’t her father, or even her brother really, just a friend who took her in whenever her father was hauled off to jail. But he couldn’t let something like this slide. Emma was only 16… drinking was still illegal. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
The ride over there he listened to soft music in the background, classical to calm him. He finally arrived at the two-story house to see three boys sitting on the front porch.
“Hey,” one of them said.
Trey recognized him from school a couple of years back. These guys are at least 22, Trey thought, wondering why the hell they would buy alcohol for kids, but not wanting to ask because he was suppressing his anger. “Where’s Emma?”
“She’s in here,” the taller one answered, motioning for Trey to follow him inside. He entered the lovely house, already seeing Jaina half asleep on the couch, moaning. He had the feeling that this would be a long night.
He was led up the stairs to where Emma sat on the bathroom floor, head in the toilet. She wasn’t speaking, just sitting there. A boy was behind her, patting her on the back, trying to make sure she was okay. Trey moved in. “Hey, Em?” he asked. She looked towards him, mouth dropped open. She was stone drunk. “Come on, let’s go home.” Emma nodded and tried to stand up, only to fall back over.
“Trey,” she asked, words slurred. “Am I drunk? Why are you here? I’m really drunk, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you’re drunk, and I’m here to take you home. Come on,” he said, reaching out for her lifeless hand. Attempting to pull her up was almost futile, so he just picked her up, cradling her small body against his, and carried her outside to the car. After gently setting her down, he rushed to the driver’s seat where he drove, the classical music still playing.
“Trey,” she asked again. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, I’m not mad, but I’m a little upset.”
“I’m really drunk, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are.”
“Have I already asked you that?”
“Yes, you have.”
“How much did you drink?” Trey asked, figuring that she wouldn’t know, but it was worth a try.
“Ummmm, some vodka and some whiskey, and some other stuff… lots of stuff. I drank too much didn’t I?”
“That is a lot.”
“What time is it?”
“Were you asleep?”
“No,” he lied.
“I could’ve drove home.”
“No, you couldn’t have. You’re drunk off your ass..”
“Yeah, I could’ve. I’m okay, I really am.”
He pulled into the driveway and helped her out of the car.
“Trey,” she said, “I feel sick.”
He carried her to the bathroom where she sat with her head in the toilet for a good 30 minutes, finally throwing up twice. She whined, feeling like shit. He put her hair back in a ponytail and wiped her face and neck off with a wet washcloth.
“It’s going to be okay,” Trey said in his soothing voice. “Shhh, don’t cry,” he rubbed her back, beginning to worry. He desperately hoped that she hadn’t drunk too much. After all, she was only 16.
“I wanna go home, and go to sleep,” she muttered.
“We are home. Come on, we can go to sleep. Can you walk?”
“No walk,” she moaned, beginning to crawl through the house.
“Well then, come on, let’s go to the den,” Trey said, crawling next to her. He felt like he was babysitting a 5-year-old instead of looking after a teenager. He led her to the den where he had already laid towels on the floor by a trashcan that sat next to the couch. He helped her up to the couch and said, “if you feel bad again, just throw up into the trashcan, okay?”
She made a noise but her eyes were shut and she was nearly asleep.
Trey sat at his desk in the den, writing. That’s what he did best. He listened to country music now, instead of classical. Yes, good old Trey listened to country music, although he didn’t look like it.
They sat like that for a few hours, Emma trying to throw up every so often, but to no avail.
Finally, around 6, Emma woke up. She looked around the room with a confused expression on her face. “Did you pick me up last night?” she asked.
“Did I throw up?”
“I’m sorry.” He walked towards her.
“Because I threw up, and they called you. But thanks for picking me up.” Her body felt weak and she was dizzy, hardly able to see anything.
“Do you remember last night?”
“How much did you drink?”
“I split a bottle of vodka with Jaina and Marie, and we drank some watermelon pucker, and then we had some whiskey and coke… but by the second glass, I don’t remember anything afterward.”
Trey nodded. “Did anything bad happen with Jaina’s older brother?”
She shook her head. “No,” she said, not looking into Trey’s eyes. “Are you really mad at me?” she asked.
“I’m upset. Go back to sleep, hun. Do you feel better?”
“Do you want to go to your bed?”
He nodded as she dozed back to sleep.
Finally around 4 that evening, she woke up almost refreshed but regretting last night more than ever. Her stomach not only suffered from distress because of alcohol, but also that guilty feeling. She couldn’t believe that she had let Trey down like that.
He left her a note saying that he was gone to run errands and would be back around 6. Eat lightly, if you need me, call the cell.
Her stomach rumbled now from hunger at his mention of the word food. She hadn’t in fact eaten since dinner last night. She pulled out crackers from the cabinet, remembering how she was always told that saltine crackers are good whenever you have to vomit.
She ate a little bit then sat down to watch tv. The events of last night passed through her mind. Taking shots of alcohol, saying she didn’t want anymore but drinking it anyway, the dizziness that she felt, how Trey came to pick her up because he cared about her, he didn’t want her driving herself. It felt horrible, her father never cared. But Trey did. Trey cared enough to make sure she didn’t drive home in that condition.
At six, as promised, Trey walked into the door. “Well hello there, sleepyhead.”
Emma smiled weakly. “Hey,” she said.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, bringing some Walmart sacks into the kitchen and setting them on the table.
“I’m okay,” she said, not moving from her position on the couch. Trey sat next to her and felt her forehead.
“You scared me last night, kid.”
“You were completely shitfaced.”
She nodded. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“I know you are. Do you have a headache?”
“Are you dizzy?”
“A little bit.”
“Maybe lying down is a good idea. But tomorrow whenever you get up I want to talk to you about this, okay?”
Emma gulped, that was the part she was dreading. But she nodded.
Trey left her alone for the rest of the evening, writing a bit, reading some, listening to music, and talking on the phone. Emma just sat plopped in front of the tv, feeling too bad to even get on the computer. She went to bed that night at 9:30, feeling like shit, only to be followed by Trey who felt the same way because he hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before.
They sat on the couch next to one another, the tv off, no music playing. “I’m sorry. I really am. I know you’re really disappointed in me, and I feel really bad about letting you down like that. So I’m ready for whatever punishment you have to give me.”
He listened to her speak softly, even accepting the punishment that he had for her, but he wasn’t sure that she’d like what he was about to do. “Emma, you’re like a sister to me, and I love you. I don’t want you to hurt yourself like that, and when you lie to me, it hurts me. You knew what you were going to do before you did it, but you didn’t tell me. And I know why, because you were so stuck on doing it… But I am really let down and disappointed that you would do something like this. I don’t want this to ever happen again, am I clear?”
Emma nodded, feeling a tighter pit of guilt in her stomach.
“I’ve thought this through, Em. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I decided that the best way to deal with this would be to spank you.”
She almost choked hearing this. Sure, she’d been spanked before… even by Trey once. But it always made her feel so young and immature. She did deserve it, though, even if she was a 16 year old. She wanted to plead and beg for him to rethink his decision, surely grounding her for a month would have a greater effect, but it was too late. He already had her standing up, telling her to take down her pants.
“Trey,” she begged. “I’m sorry… please don’t do this…”
“Emma, I’m not playing games. Pull down your jeans.”
She kept a hold on the button of her jeans. “Please, don’t. I’m sorry.”
“If you don’t do it, then I will,” his voice threatened.
Emma blushed, but would not let go. “Trey… can’t we reason with one another.” After hearing her argue too much, Trey got tired of it and unbuttoned her pants himself, letting them fall to the ground. After they fell, all Emma could do was stand there in her shirt and panties and cry.
“Now, if you’d just do what I tell you then we wouldn’t have this problem,” he said, sternly, placing her across his lap. “The way you have acted is unacceptable, and by doing this, you can be guiltless and you will have learned your lesson.” Emma wiped her eyes, waiting for his first smack to land across her bottom. Instead, she felt her panties being pulled down to her knees and her ass being exposed. This made her squirm.
“Nooo, please don’t do that..” she whined, trying to pull her panties back up. The only reply she got was a sharp smack on her butt, causing her to blush furiously and stop squirming.
“Put your hands down, Emma.”
She did as told, placing her hands down on the floor in front of her. She lay there for a moment, thoughts rushing over her head. She had so many feelings for Trey, he cared about her like no one else had. But she still had a crush on him like she used to because he was so darn cute. Quickly her thoughts faded as she felt him smack her bottom hard. He laid a good ten smacks on her and she tried not to fight and squirm, but they were so hard she had to. She had thought the last time she received a spanking that it was bad, but this was horrible!
“Emma SMACK, I’m very disappointed in you SMACK. You know SMACK that what you did was wrong SMACK and you did it anyway SMACK SMACK. And SMACK you LIED SMACK to me. SMACK.” He stopped lecturing and just spanked her for a little while, probably not spanking as hard as he could, but still pretty hard. She deserved this, she had done something wrong, and he was determined to show her that she would not do it again.
Meanwhile, Emma felt small across Trey’s lap. Felt small and weak, as if she was nothing. She did not cry, but instead whined and exclaimed ow every time he spanked her. That is, until he began spanking quickly and firm, one sharp smack after another, landing on each cheek, and not giving her enough time to regain her composure after each time. Then she let a few tears fall from her eyes, squirming and trying not to fight too much, especially after she heard Trey’s warning voice. Finally, she gave up… she stopped fighting and just cried over his lap, lying limply there. He saw that she had had enough and landed the last few smacks across his friend’s backside, and then pulled her up. He held his arms around her tightly and soothed her, rubbing her bottom some to take out the sting.
“Shhh,” he said. “It’s okay, Em. I love you.” He held her there as she cried into his chest muttering apologies. “Everything’s going to be all right.”