Lizbeth Downtown


Part 2 in the Lizbeth series.  

Lizbeth goes downtown with Katrina after her father told her that she couldn’t.  They stay out a little too late and the cops bust them for being out past state curfew.


“But Papa!” I whined. “Why can’t I go with Katrina to that club tonight? It’s an all ages club and she really wants to go!”

“I said no, Lizbeth. Don’t ask me again. Downtown is no place for an eleven-year-old girl,” he replied, buttoning his work shirt up and tucking it in.

I folded my arms and pouted, stomping out of the room. I desperately wished for my own bedroom, so I could slam the door and express my disappointment at his answer, but I didn’t have one, so I just went to Javier’s apartment instead, slamming the door to my own. Javier just glanced at me as I plopped down next to him, lower lip still poked out. He didn’t speak, only watched the tv.

A few minutes later, I heard Papa open the door. “See you later, princess. Have a good night with Katrina, and don’t stay out too late!”

I rolled my eyes at him, but I guess he didn’t take the hint that I was pissed. “Okay, whatever. Later,” I muttered, keeping a fixed glare on the tv. He said no more and next thing I heard was Alberto’s car pulling out of the driveway.

I sighed. This wasn’t fair! How come Katrina would have to get let down because Papa was too stupid to allow me to go to the damn club with her? Kat had been wanting to hear the band that was playing at the club for ages, and I had to be the reason she couldn’t go. Unless….

“Hey, Lizbeth!” Katrina said in a chirpy happy voice as she entered the apartment. She punched me playfully on the arm. “Your dad said you could go out partying?”

I smiled. “Yeah, he did.”

“Great! Let’s go shopping, first. We can get some spiffy clothes, okay?”

I didn’t know what spiffy meant, but I assumed it was a good thing. First, though, I had to find five dollars, so I could get into the place. “Sure, just let me change clothes.” It was a lame excuse, even I admit it. But she didn’t seem to realize it was an excuse. I guess I didn’t look fit to go to the mall, or anywhere for that matter. I was wearing a pair of green soccer shorts and a white T-shirt that had a mustard stain on it, and a pair of purple flipflops. I would only match if I were going to a Mardi Gras parade, where the colors are purple, green, and gold. And that’s not where we were going.

I rushed back over to our apartment and into Papa’s room. I knew where he kept his money, and I felt bad about it, even as I reached under the mattress and grabbed the twenty-dollar bill. I swallowed down the lump in my throat. It was going to be worth it. Katrina would love me and accept me and that meant more than a lousy twenty dollars, right? I was still nervous, though, and very paranoid, so I hurried out of his room, shaking at the very thought of what would happen if Papa found out I stole some money from him. In my family, stealing is one of the worst offenses. If he knew I took some money, the last spanking I got from him would feel like nothing.

In my room, I changed into a pair of blue jean shorts and a button-up green and white striped shirt. I also put on some regular tennis shoes. *Now* I was fit for shopping with Katrina.

“That was quick,” she commented, leaning against the doorway, chewing on some gum.

I didn’t answer, just smiled.

“I’ll buy you a new pair of pants, okay? There’s this really cool store in the mall where they have baggy jeans. I bet they’ll be perfect to wear to the club tonight. What do you think?”

I nodded, noticing that she, like always, was wearing blue jeans with tons of pockets and wide legs. They were really adorable jeans, I must say. I tried to imagine myself looking as cute as she, but I couldn’t. Every time I tried to picture myself wearing baggy jeans, I ended up looking like a homeless girl.

She lead me towards her tiny blue car. It was almost a second home to me by this time. She’d been my *babysitter* for a little over a week, and we probably spent half of our time riding around. I loved riding in her car because she liked to turn the air on full blast with the windows rolled down and the music loud. I thought that maybe I could just move in with Papa and when I turned eighteen, I could be just like Katrina, baggy pants and all.

“So how was your day?” she asked. It’d been one of the afternoons that Papa didn’t have to work, so she didn’t come pick me up until 4:30.

“It was okay. Didn’t do anything, just sat around at Javier’s house, watching tv.”

“Sounds like fun. I didn’t do anything either, just slept.” She grinned, turning the music up louder. “You like this okay? I bought the cd a couple of days ago and I’ve only listened to it a couple of times. I dunno, I think it’s a little too heavy for me.”

My ears perked up like a dog so I could hear it better. A little too heavy? I wondered what a *lot* too heavy was because I couldn’t understand a word the singer was saying and the guitars were so loud and distorted I felt like I was standing next to a train. “Uhm, they’re okay..” I said.

She looked at me. “No te gusta?” she asked.

I couldn’t help but smile. It amused the hell out of me when she attempted to speak Spanish, mostly because she only knew a couple of phrases and she had such an American accent. I spoke back in Spanish… “No, I don’t really care for it that much, a little too loud and heavy for my liking, but what do I know?”

I thought she was going to run off the road because she was staring at me so hard trying to figure out what I said.

I giggled. “It’s okay,” I translated. “I just don’t really like heavy stuff, I guess.”

“Oh. Why didn’t ya just say so?” She popped the cd out and ordered me to choose another.

It was an interesting ride to the mall, but it was even more so when we got there. Katrina Ooooed and Awwed over me, shoving clothes in my arms and forcing me to try them on, then nearly crying because I looked “so cute!” in them. I kept telling her that she’d smoked too much marijuana, but she kept shoving clothes in my arms anyway. Finally, we agreed on two pairs of pants for me and a tiny T-shirt, and then she bought some makeup and stuff, and I was so giddy I could barely stand it. Here I was, shopping in America with a real American girl and I was going to go to an American club and look “spiffy.” Wait until I tell my best friend Maria about this!

We went to the bathroom and I went into a stall and changed into the baggy jeans. They literally swallowed me whole. I felt like I was wearing no pants whatsoever. They completely covered my shoes and I looked like I was floating or something. Then I pulled the T-shirt over my head and pulled my hair out. There I was… completely American.

I shuffled out of the stall and I thought Katrina was going to pass out. She was giggling so hysterically and awwwing at me like I was a little puppy. Finally, she stopped laughing so much and tugged me towards a full-length mirror and there I stood, a tiny Mexican girl in jeans that looked three sizes too big and a T-shirt that she didn’t understand. I was beautiful.

She sat me on the counter of the bathroom and applied the makeup. It was so hard to keep still because I kept wanting to know what I looked like. Eventually, she was fed up with my pestering and fixed my hair then shoved me towards the full-length mirror again. And this time, I was the one to turn hysterical. I wished so desperately that I had a camera so I’d have proof that I really don’t look so boring all the time.

When we left the mall I could see that the sun was setting. It was nearing seven and we were due at the club at eight. She took me to Burger King for a bite to eat. How could someone be so nice to me?

I’d never been downtown before. Truthfully, I had no idea what to expect. And when we crossed over a bridge and I saw tons of lights and cars, I think I almost had a heart attack. It was so beautiful and in that one instance, I think I was more ecstatic than ever that I’d gone against Papa’s wishes.

“Is this… where we’re going?” I murmured in awe.

She grinned at me. “Yup sure is.”

“Wow! This is… amazing!” I felt like I’d landed on another planet.

“It’s not *that* great, Lizbeth. It’s just downtown.” She turned right and drove a couple of blocks until we pulled into a parking spot. I sat there for a long time until she finally poked me. “Ya gotta get out now,” she reminded me. “We’re here.”

“Oh!” I said, smacking myself on the head and falling gracefully out of the vehicle.

The summer night seemed endless as I walked next to Katrina with my mouth dropped. A gentle breeze hit me on the face and the darkness engulfed my body. I had a rush like I’d never had before, just walking down the sidewalk, staring at the tall buildings. A smile spread across my face. This was truly going to be a great night.


“Katrina!” I yelled, shoving through the mass of people. We’d gotten separated hours earlier and I’d waited until 1:43 AM to attempt to find her. And that was dumb. I’d never be able to find her through that crowd of people! The final band had just finished playing. I wished desperately that we’d have thought of a place to meet if something happened. Why hadn’t one of us thought of that?

Some people shoved me out of the way, stepping on my pants in the process. Why’d I have to be so damn little? All the other people in the room were at least a foot taller than me, and that didn’t make it any easier to find Kat.

“Katrina!” I yelled again, searching frantically. I finally made it to the bar and stood on a stool, eyes scanning the room.

“There you are!” I heard someone yelp and then practically tackle me, throwing me over her shoulder. “You had me worried sick, Lizbeth. But it was my fault, I know. I was too into the music and stuff.” She placed me down on the floor and grabbed my hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

We were walking down the street, talking about the night and the dancing and the great time we had, even though there were mostly only teenagers there since it was an all-ages club and all. I think at this point in time I realized that I really had had an amazing evening, and the darkness was engulfing me further, causing me to have more of a sugar high. That’s probably why I begged and pleaded for Katrina to take me out for some ice cream, promising that I’d pay for it. I didn’t want the night to end yet.

After the fourth or fifth time of asking, she finally gave in. “Fine, we can go get ice cream… but won’t your dad be worried?”

“Nooooo,” I giggled. “He’ll be fine! Let’s get ice cream!”

She rolled her eyes and unlocked the door for me, then sped off towards Wal-mart, the only place open that late at night.

We decided to buy a pint of ice cream and take it to the park with us where we could sit on the playground equipment with our feet dangling, talking about personal stuff until the ice cream was gone. I guess I kinda made up the personal stuff part because I always wanted an older sister who could explain anything to me. I figured that Katrina was the closest thing I’d ever get to that.

So we went to the park which was near a small lake and she sat Indian style on a bench and me with one leg tucked under me and the other dangling. We talked softly to one another for a little while about different stuff. She told me about her family and her job, and I told her a little about Mexico and my Mama and little brother. I told her that I’d always wanted a big sister and she offered to be my adopted sister for the summer. I thought that was pretty nice of her.

“Yeah, you’re a spiffy kid. I’d like to have a little sister like you,” she’d said.


“Uh huh.”

“Hey, Kat.. what does spiffy mean?” I asked, wanting to get the definite meaning before I started using the word myself.

She glanced at me and smiled. “It means like something that’s really cool.”

“Oh, okay. Spiffy,” I said, seeing how the word sounded coming out of my own mouth. Not nearly as… well, spiffy, as it sounded coming out of Katrina’s.

We were quiet for a little while, letting the night sounds take over our ears… sounds of a couple of cars passing on the highway, crickets chirping… I’d almost forgotten that it was after two in the morning and I should have been at home when the figure approached us.

“Excuse me, may I ask what two young ladies like yourselves are doing at the park at two-thirty in the morning?” the voice said, shining a flashlight in my eyes and nearly blinding me.

I felt Katrina freeze next to me. That’s when I realized that it was a police officer… not nearly as scary as a child molester, but none the less, still scary.

“I… we… um… were just eating ice cream, er, officer,” she stammered.

He pointed the flashlight in her direction. I watched the light descend onto her face, showing her worried expression. I gulped. “Come with me,” he ordered, motioning for us to stand. We did as told, I walking as steadily as my shaky legs would carry me towards the parking lot of the park. “I trust you didn’t know that there’s a sign that reads the park closes at ten, eh?”

Katrina bit her lower lip. “No, er, sir.. didn’t know that…”

“I see. I also highly doubt that this young lady with you is of age to be out this late at night.”

Okay, that sentence confused me.

“Well, sir, see, we, uh, were going downtown to this, er, place and, well, we were on our way home and decided to stop and talk, cause, uh, she was feeling really down.”

He tapped his foot impatiently. “The city of Shreveport has a curfew law that states all persons under the age of seventeen must not be out between the hours of 11:00 PM and 5:00 AM unless accompanied by a parent or guardian, and clearly, you are neither.”

Uh oh.

“I, er, know, sir,” she said. I’d never seen her so uneasy before.

“By law, I could take you both to jail right now,” he continued. “But, since neither of you was doing anything to disturb the peace, I’ll let you go on home, and she can come with me.”

When did I get into this!?

“But…” I began, but my voice trailed off.

“Sir, can I just take her straight home and you follow me?” She is a very good mind reader.

He shook his head, though. “I can either take her home or take you both down to the station. Your pick.”

She gave me a sympathetic look. “Okay,” she murmured to the officer, then bent down to my level and whispered into my ear, “don’t worry, I’ll come over and explain to your dad, okay?”

I nodded, sniffling because I could feel the tears coming on. My stomach tied into knots.

“Come on, Little Lady,” the officer told me, and practically shoved me towards the car.

I guess it was a good thing he decided to take me home rather than arrest me. That wouldn’t have been fun… Kat would be in jail and I’d be in deeper shit than I already was. But as I rode in the passenger’s seat of that police car, thinking that didn’t really help me feel any better. All I could think about was what the look on my Papa’s face would be like when I arrived on the porch, tall police officer behind me. I’d have to explain to him what had happened… and then he’d want to know details, and I’d have to tell him of the whole night…

I spent the drive telling the police officer directions to my house. Turn left here, turn right there, blah blah blah. I guess it kind of helped to take my mind off of stuff… but it didn’t really help that much. The knots were still in my tummy, and my heart was racing to no end.

“This is it,” I muttered, taking a deep breath in.

He stepped out of the car and I followed him, up the steps, and finally, to my front door. I took another deep breath in and realized how much my tiny body was shaking. I tried to steady my hands and kept wiping my sweaty palms on my new jeans. The officer knocked loudly on the door.

In an instant, the door swung open and Papa stood there, angrier than I’d seen him in a long time, in a pair of khakis with his work shirt unbuttoned. He glanced at me, then the officer, then back at me, and I broke down crying.

The officer introduced himself. “I’m Officer Bailey,” he said, not realizing that Papa knew only enough English to get by. “I trust this is your daughter?”

Papa looked at me for a translation. “What’d he say?” I heard him ask through my tears.

“He’s asking if I’m your daughter,” I wailed back.

Papa answered that I was, and I held my head in my hands. The officer didn’t really say much more, just that I was out past curfew, which is a “serious offense” and that he let me off easy this time. The hard part was trying to tell Papa this through all of my sobbing. I couldn’t look at him, I was so embarrassed and ashamed because I had disobeyed him. Then the officer thanked Papa, and Papa apologized to him, and the officer turned away, and Papa grabbed my upper arm and dragged me into the house.

“Where were you, Lizbeth Marie!” he shouted, smacking my bottom as I got in front of him.

“I’m sorry, Papa!” I pleaded. My hand flew to my bottom and I rubbed where he’d slapped me. “We went to the park! I didn’t know there was a curfew!”

“I told you not to stay out too late!”

“I’m sorry! We lost track of time!”

“Where did you go?” he asked, looking deep into my eyes. I knew he’d be able to tell if I lied. But it didn’t matter because I didn’t get the chance to say anything. He already knew the answer to his question. “You went to that club, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Papa, I’m sorry,” I wailed, hand still rubbing my bottom. He sat down on the couch and pulled me over towards him. “Nooooo, Papa! Pleaseeee! I’m sorry!!” I struggled to stay back, but he had a firm grip on me and in no time, I was over his lap, face buried into the couch, choking on my sobs.

He landed the first smack on my jean-clad bottom, and I was thankful for the protection it provided. I knew on the bare bottom this would feel *much* worse than it already did, and believe me, it hurt like you wouldn’t believe! He was totally pissed, more so than when I’d smoked that cigarette.

“I specifically told you not to go to that damn club, Lizbeth Marie,” he said, landing more solid smacks on my rump. “And you deliberately disobeyed me. I cannot believe you.”

“Butttt I’mmm sssorrrrryyyyy!” I wailed, kicking and screaming. I was putting on a show, I must say that. I knew that Javier was just next door with his two roommates, and Alberto was just in the other room. They could probably all hear me wailing.

He didn’t let up, though, and I didn’t let up on the sobbing.

Finally, like a gift from heaven, there was a loud knock on the door. “Who is it?” Papa, yelled over my sobbing, stopping from the spanking briefly.

There was no answer.

I was still crying from being so humiliated and in pain, but I knew it was Katrina and I wanted the spanking to stop, so I said, “who is it?” in English.

“It’s me, Kat..” she said softly.

Papa looked at me and lifted me from his lap. “Sit,” he ordered.

I did as I was told, though my bottom was really sore and it made it hard to do so, and Papa walked angrily towards the door. He opened to reveal Katrina, hands in her pockets, head hanging.

“Don’t spank her,” she mumbled, staring at the ground. “It was my fault.”

He looked at me for a translation. I hated this stupid translating crap. I told him word for word what she’d said, and he looked at me, trying to see if I was lying or not.

He moved out of the way to let Katrina in. He pointed to the couch and Kat just followed his request and sat down next to me. He slammed the door. Alberto came in to find out what all of the commotion was about. They both sat down in chairs across from us. “I want the whole story, Lizbeth Marie. From the time she got here until the time you got home. Got it?”

I wiped the tears out of my eyes and looked at Kat. “Kat… I stole money from him… do I really have to tell him?”

She bit her lower lip and gave me that same scared pathetic look that she’d given the police officer. “Yeah, Lizbeth, you should tell him.”

I took a deep breath in and looked at Papa. It was so hard, looking him in the eyes after what I’d done. If I couldn’t even look at him, how could I tell him? What a great way to end such a perfect night, I thought bitterly.

“Well?” he said impatiently.

I wiped another tear away. “She came to pick me up and we went to the club and I took twenty dollars then we had ice cream and that’s all,” I said as quickly as I could, then looked back down at the floor.

He walked over to me and lifted my chin to meet his eyes. “Tell me, Young Lady, everything that happened, and the truth, and slow down.”

Another tear slipped down my cheek. “Kat picked me up… and I didn’t tell her that I couldn’t go…”

“Wait..” she interrupted. “Did you just say you couldn’t go?”

Papa and I looked at her. “Yeah, I couldn’t go,” I answered.

“You told me that! You told me that you couldn’t go and I took you anyway. It’s my fault!” she said.

“Katrina… are you crazy? I didn’t tell you..”

“Yes, you did. You told me. You don’t deserve to be punished.”

Papa looked from her to me. “What’d she say?” he asked.

“She told me,” Katrina said, doing hand motions, anything so that he would understand what she was saying. “She…” she pointed to me, “told,” moved her hand in a talking manner, “me that she could not go to the club…” she said, emphasizing each word.

He looked back at me.

“I’m not telling him, Kat. It wasn’t your fault… it was mine.”

I think this probably worsened the situation. Now Papa was confused as anything. Katrina just shook her head. “Fine… but I don’t mind taking the blame.”

I smiled slightly and looked back at Papa. He studied my face. “I didn’t tell Katrina that I couldn’t go… and I felt bad because I really wanted her to see that band… and I didn’t have any money..” I turned away. “And I took some of your money.” I closed my eyes tightly, waiting for a slap on my face. But it never came. Papa just gently turned my chin back and made me look into his eyes.

“You did what?” he whispered.

“I… I… took some… money… of yours.”

He let go of my chin and paced around the room. It was deathly silent. Even the clocks weren’t ticking. I waited for anything… and cricket, a cough, someone’s stomach to growl… but nothing… the silence just spread through the house like the black plague did in Europe. Everything was dead. It was so scary I couldn’t even cry.

Papa no longer looked at me, but Alberto’s and Kat’s eyes were fixated on me. It made me feel so small. Tension crept through the room. I awaited the next words… my fate. I was scared most that Papa would send me back to Mexico and never speak to me again. Scared I’d never get to see Katrina again or Alberto or Javier or any of the other friends I’d made, but mostly scared that Papa would disown me and never call or answer my calls. Thinking of this was enough to bring the tears back to my eyes and they streamed down my face.

“I’m sorry Papa!” I howled, breaking the silence and the tension. I buried my head in my hands, unable to stand the world around me. “I’m so sorry.”

“Lizbeth, finish the story,” he told me. “Stop crying and finish the story.”

“I can’t…” I wailed.

“Lizbeth Marie, I’m giving you to the count of three…”

I cried harder, knowing that once he said three, I would be over his lap with my pants and panties down. But I couldn’t bring myself to words… it was the hardest thing in the world, confessing to my father that I’d disobeyed him..

“We went shopping,” I hiccuped, “and then… w-we went downtown… and then… we went to get ice cream..”

He plopped back down in the chair.

“Look, I’m sorry for interrupting,” Katrina said, “But some of this is my fault, too.”

I had no choice… I had to translate for her.

“I knew she needed to be home before eleven, and I kept her out late. Don’t go too hard on her… I’m responsible for her and she wouldn’t have fought if I’d have told her that it was time to leave.”

“Oh, I know,” Papa replied. “You’re much to blame for her being out late, but she’s also to blame because she disobeyed me.”

I knew that Kat was biting her lip again. “Please don’t be too mad,” she pleaded.

“I’m beyond mad, I’m infuriated,” he answered.

That shut her up.

It was quiet for a moment. “The only fair way to do this is to spank them both,” Alberto finally said. We all looked at him. He’d been sitting there the whole time, quiet as could be, just watching the events.

Papa nodded. “He’s right. Katrina will get a spanking from us both, then Lizbeth, you’ll be spanked for disobeying me and stealing, and it’ll be something you won’t forget for a long time.”

Kat looked at me, wondering what the final decision was.

“Alberto says that it’ll be fair if we’re both spanked,” I told her. “And Papa says that you’ll get spanked by both of them.”

Her eyes widened. Last time, I’d known she’d never gotten a spanking before… but this time, the look on her face told me that she had, and she knew exactly what was in store. I wondered if she regretted ever coming by.

“Okay,” she whispered. I watched her stand and noticed that her legs were wobbly, just as mine had been as we had walked to the parking lot with the police officer. She took a deep breath in and took another step towards them.

“Come here,” Papa ordered, one of the things he actually knew how to say in English.

She looked down at him, eyes filled with tears. She shuffled closer to him.

“My daughter is your responsibility,” he said, studying her face. “I expect you to have her home on time and do nothing to endanger her, do you understand me?”

Three pairs of eyes stared at me. I just wished that everyone would learn one language!

“Yes, I understand,” Katrina said after hearing what Papa had said.

He grabbed her by the front of the pants and unbuttoned the jeans, then unzipped them and let them slide to the ground. She didn’t fight at all. I wondered how one could be so brave. I then watched as he positioned her over his lap, her hands placed firmly on the carpet, and toes barely scraping it. She held her eyes shut. I squirmed on the couch, knowing that I was next. I think that’s what scared me most. And I felt bad that she had to get it…

“That was no good, Katrina,” Papa scolded, tugging her panties down to her ankles. I squirmed a little more.

He lifted his hand high in the air, then brought it down heavily onto her round bottom, and then I heard the SMACK! and then she groaned. A pink handprint appeared on her pale bottom. I watched him lift his hand again and smack down again, inches away from the first smack. She groaned again and I noticed that her eyes were closed tighter and fists balled up. I imagined that she was biting her lip. He proceeded to smack again and again and again, and found a definite rhythm and stuck with it. I felt like I was listening to a techno song. You know how techno is all repetitive? That’s what it was like… a smack, a groan, a smack, a groan… over and over. Her bottom got darker and darker… from bright pink, to a darker pink, to a reddish color. And I never knew how brave one girl could be. I did, however, know that Papa wouldn’t stop spanking until he knew that he’d gotten through to her, which meant that she’d have to be totally broken, which meant she had to be bawling like a baby. And from the looks of it, it didn’t look like she’d be crying anytime soon.

I don’t know how long he spanked her, all I know is that when he stopped, her bottom was dark red and I noticed that near her sit spots and thighs there were tiny bruises. I winced thinking about how much pain she was in. Then I winced because I realized that next it’d be *me* who was going through so much pain.

Papa lifted her from his lap. She was still shaking like crazy and probably in too much pain to worry about modesty. It took me by surprise, seeing her half-naked body like that. I wondered if that’s how I’d look when I turned 18.

He lead her to Alberto. I don’t think that Alberto ever had any intentions of spanking the poor girl, but he didn’t have much of a choice by this time. She was already over his lap, her red bottom practically inviting his hand to spank it as hard as possible. And that’s exactly what he did. I winced every time I heard the noise of hand meeting bottom. Katrina was almost to the point of yelping. I desperately wished that she’d just cry so it’d be over with because her bottom was getting darker and darker and I knew she hurt so much.

Alberto finished up the spanking by whacking away at her sit spots and thighs a good twenty or thirty times and she was practically howling when that happened. She kicked and squirmed and bucked a little. I just whined. If she got that badly of a spanking, I was definitely scared to know what was in store for me.

The noises of spanking stopped. Alberto rubbed her backside gently. “No more staying out late,” he told her.

“I won’t,” she whined.

“Good,” he answered, delivering one very hard smack to her bottom then letting her up.

She stood and sniffled a bit, blushing slightly and tugging her panties and pants back up. Papa found a hard wooden chair from the kitchen and placed it near the couch and pointed to it. Katrina sat, nearly crying out when her flesh touched the hard surface.

Papa looked at me. My heart stopped… it was my turn.

“Come here, Lizbeth,” he said in a scolding voice. I gulped audibly. There was no way to get out of this… no amount of apologies would help. I tried to be brave like Katrina, but I couldn’t even bring myself to stand up. Instead, I looked at Papa pathetically. “I mean it, Lizbeth. If you make me come over there and get you, you’ll be sorrier than you ever thought you could be.”

I gulped again and attempted to stand up. As I did, I felt dizzy, having risen too quickly. I stood there for a minute, hands clutching my bottom, then blinked and steadied myself towards Papa, who sat staring disappointedly at me. I looked around the room. Kat was sniffling, and Alberto had his arms folded, shaking his head at me. How could I have gotten myself into such a mess?

I finally made it to Papa’s side. He looked up at me. “Young lady, I’m upset at you for disobeying me. You know better than to do what you did tonight. I love you, Little One, but you know as much as I do that you deserve this, right?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“And if you EVER steal from me again, Lizbeth Marie, I will not hesitate to bare your bottom and find a good switch for it, understand?”

Hearing that made me shudder. “Yes, sir.”

“First I’m going to spank you with my hand, then I’m going to give you a few lashes with my belt..” he told me.

I whined. “Nooo, Papa… please… not the belt…”

“Yes, Lizbeth, the belt.” He pulled me closer and unbuttoned my new pair of jeans, then let them slide to the floor. The tears had begun streaming down my face again. It was no use… there was no way I could be as brave as Katrina.

Next thing I knew, I was face down over his lap, and I felt my panties being lowered to my ankles. His hand rested on my rear for a split second, and then it cracked down on my backside. The spanking had hurt enough when it was over my jeans, but now, it smarted like crazy and I was howling and yelping to no end. And after only one smack! Then he kept spanking, harder and harder, and I squirmed and pleaded for him to stop, promising that I’d be good and never disobey him again, but it phased him none. I howled, holding onto the legs of the chair, so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Tears fell steadily down my cheeks. I was in so much pain that I thought I could felt my rear going numb after a while, but I still heard the smacks, and I still felt the pain. And finally, he stopped, and I was yelling too loudly to hear, and my backside hurt too much to notice, so the only reason I knew is because he lifted me, then stood up, and made me place my palms down on the chair. I was bent over slightly, legs shaking so much I could barely stand like that. In fact, my whole body was racked with sobs and I couldn’t even stand still.

He rubbed my back slightly. “Only five lashes with the belt, Lizbeth, okay? But they’re going to be hard, and if you ever do anything like this again, it’ll be a lot more, okay?”

“Y-yes-s, P-Papa,” I muttered.

I watched him unbuckle his belt, then slide it through the loops. Then he doubled it over and I held onto the chair for dear life. I couldn’t help but watch him lift it high in the air, then I saw him swing towards my bottom, then I heard the loud CRACK! and felt the pain and nearly fell over. If this hurt so badly, I could only imagine how much it’d hurt if he ever got that switch after me.

I couldn’t watch the last four smacks. Instead, I had my eyes shut as tightly as they would go, and I bit my lip, reminding myself to be as brave as Katrina. I tried not to howl too much, but I don’t know if it actually worked.

Finally, I felt Papa lift me from the chair and engulf me in a hug. It was over… finally. He rubbed my back softly and held me close.

“How can you love me after what I’ve done?” I mumbled, mostly to myself, but he heard me.

“Because you’re my babygirl, and I’ll always love you, no matter what you do,” he answered.

I pulled away from the hug. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, smiling slightly and letting me go. I rubbed my bottom and wiped my eyes, because the tears were still falling. I looked to Kat who was, by this time, crying, and then I looked at Alberto, who I guess was a little in shock, because he wasn’t expecting the punishment to be so harsh. Looking back at Kat, I decided to hug her. She looked like she needed a hug.

“Why are you crying?” I whispered.

“Because I didn’t want to see you be hurt like that.”

“It’s okay, I’m just glad that Papa still loves me,” I answered, and hugged her. He squeezed me tightly, trying to stop crying. “You’re so brave, Kat. I wish I were as brave as you.”

“I’m not as brave as you think,” she answered.

I didn’t understand what she meant, but eventually, I pulled away from her hug, and she told us that she needed to go home, then apologized again for having me out so late, and even hugged Papa and Alberto, then waved goodbye.

I wiped the final tears out of my eyes then went to the bathroom and washed my face. I put on a pair of panties and decided to skip wearing any pajama pants. I then went back to the living room where Papa sat alone, smoking a cigarette and staring into space.

“Papa? Are you okay?” I asked, sitting down on his lap and wiggling until I found a comfortable position where my tender and well-spanked flesh wasn’t touching anything.

“I’m okay. You just worried me tonight.”

“I’m sorry, Papa. I won’t do it again.”

“I know, baby.” He held onto me and put out the cigarette, rocking me back and forth. “You don’t hate me, do you?” he asked suddenly.

I looked up at him. “Why would I hate you?”

“I don’t know,” he answered and placed my head back down on his shoulder, rocking me once again.

I didn’t let the thought plague me much longer as I drifted off into dreamland where my backside wasn’t sore. It really hadn’t been such a bad day after all… I mean, the spanking wasn’t great, but I had a good time with Kat and I found out that Papa would love me no matter what. And that means a lot, even cancels out the pain of the spanking — maybe.

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