Molly – Chapter 4
by Breanna Carter
My day was hectic from the time I woke up and start fixing Molly’s breakfast. After I took her to school, I went by the office and had a chat with the secretary, giving the poor old lady my cell and house numbers and explaining to her at least five times that Molly was staying with me for a while before she realized what I was talking about. She handed me a form and I filled it out, giving my name and all the other emergency information and finally handing it back to the lady. Thanking her, I left the school and headed to my own to work a little in the library before my first class.
Even my class was hectic. It was an elective class, of course, and filled with mostly freshmen and sophomores who loved to bug me. We were talking about the project that we were going to start soon and by listening to the dumb questions everyone asked you’d have thought those kids had never done a project before. I was lucky to have a sophomore as my partner who was intelligent. If I’d have been stuck with an ignorant freshman, I might not have made it through the project.
I got out of class at 10:50 and met a friend of mine for lunch. We were actually in the middle of lunch when I got the phone call.
“Hello?” I said, not recognizing the phone number on my caller ID.
“May I speak to Brian Graham?” the man on the other line said. He had a very professional voice and I didn’t know if it was a someone wanting money from me or not. I almost said no..
“Mr. Graham, this is Keith Bradsbury, the assistant principal from Pine Grove Junior High. I received a notice that you are responsible for Molly Collins while her mother is out of town?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, my fear of principals apparent in my voice.
“Well, we’re experiencing some problems with Molly this morning. I need you to come in for a conference right now if that’s possible.”
I raised my eyebrows, ignoring the confused look of my friend. “Right now?”
I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. “Sure,” I said, my voice not the least bit enthused. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Thank you, Mr. Graham.”
I hung up the phone, growling under my breath because I wouldn’t be able to finish lunch. “Hey, I have to go,” I told my friend, standing from my chair. “Some problems with stuff and I’ll explain later. You can get a go box for my food and have a snack later.”
My friend just nodded, asking no questions. That’s why I hung out with him so much. He wasn’t an engineering major, like me, but instead a business major, and even though we were totally different, we were a lot alike, too.
I hurried out to my car and sped out of the restuarant parking lot towards Molly’s school. I wasn’t sure what the deal was with Molly, but something told me that she’d worn that damn skirt to school anyway. But I couldn’t imagine being called into a school for just a dress code violation, unless it’d happened many times before…
I think I made it to the school in record time. I rushed inside the office, greeting the old secretary and instantly seeing Molly sitting outside the assistant principal’s office, feet dangling from the chair and wearing that tiny skirt. She looked up and saw me, then burst into tears. That was the Molly I knew — the one who could cry her way out of any kind of trouble. I had to pep talk myself not to let it happen this time.
“I’m here to see the assistant principal,” I said, not remembering the man’s name because I was so worried.
“Certainly,” the old lady said, pressing a button on a telephone and saying that someone was there to see him. Within seconds the office door swung open and there stood a tall man, his hair graying and wearing a nice suit and tie, the typical assistant principal look. It almost made me cringe because it reminded me so much of being a young boy in trouble all the time.
“You must be Mr. Graham,” he said, a little surprised to see that I was so young.
“Yes, sir,” I said, shaking his hand.
“I’m Keith Bradsbury. Come on in,” he ordered, motioning for Molly to follow, who was by this time, still crying, only silently, with her hands over her eyes.
The two of us took a seat while Mr. Bradsbury shut the door and sat behind the desk.
“Molly,” he began, “care to explain what happened?”
She shook her head, face still buried in her hands. “I’m sorryy!” she cried. It wasn’t genuine crying, though. I could tell — I’d seen her genuine crying enough to know the difference between trying to get out of trouble and actually being sorry.
The assistant principal looked from Molly to me. “Seems like we’ve been having problems with Molly all day, haven’t we young lady?” he asked.
I looked at the tiny girl who had moved her hands away from her eyes by that time, but still letting tears stream down her face. “Yes, sir,” she muttered.
“I got a call first thing this morning about her homework not being turned in for the fifth time in the last two weeks. Thus, Molly will have a note to give you concerning that.”
I groaned. I had suspected that she had homework, but let it go, trusting that she wouldn’t lie to me, and she had.
“And last class period she was referred to me for disrupting the class. There was a substitute teacher and she finally had enough of Molly’s pranks and talking, and sent her to me.” He looked back at Molly.
I looked at her, too. “Elaborate, Molly,” I ordered.
She began crying again. “I didn’t mean to! Honestly! I was just having fun!”
“I don’t think throwing paper balls at the teacher and pens at other students and talking while she is trying to explain something to the class is ‘having fun’,” Mr. Bradsbury said.
She cried harder. “I wasn’t aiming for her!” she said, a pitiful attempt to make things better.
“It doesn’t matter if you were aiming for her or not,” I scolded. “You shouldn’t be throwing stuff in the classroom.” I paused for a moment, letting her cry more, still peptalking myself not to be the softie that I was.
“The substitute repeatively told her to sit in her seat, but she kept walking around. She asked her to do her work, but Molly refused. And when she turned her back to the students, Molly started throwing stuff and then pretending like it wasn’t her. The poor lady finally got sick of all the pranks and wrote a referral in which Molly tore up and told her that she wasn’t going to do anything the substitute said.”
I didn’t have to peptalk myself anymore. Blatant disrespect is something I don’t tolerate and it was just now clicking what all my babygirl had done.
“She finally had to buzz the office and I myself had to get her and bring her to my office. I also see that she is wearing a skirt that is against dresscode regulation.. Come here, Molly.” She stood and walked over to him as he grabbed a ruler out of his desk. This made me more uncomfortable as when I was in junior high, it was typical to see an assistant principal pull a paddle out of his desk… But he was only measuring her skirt. “The rule here is no more than four inches above the knee, and this is clearly over that.”
I nodded. “And I specifically told her not to wear that skirt to school today.”
She turned on the tears again. “Oh, I know,” he said, replacing the ruler and pointing for Molly to sit back down. “That was the first thing she asked when I called you, if she could change clothes. I told her she couldn’t, that you needed to see what kind of outfit she was wearing to school.”
I sighed loudly.
“I’ve assigned her with three days of In School Suspension as well as suspended for the rest of the day. The ISS is, of course, for disrupting the classroom numerous times and a dresscode violation.”
“Molly, I will see you tomorrow. Hopefully you will be a little settled down by then,” he said, then looked at me. “I’m sorry we had to meet on such conditions.”
“Me too, but I can assure you this won’t happen again, right Molly?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, sniffling and wiping her eyes.
We all stood and I shook the assistant principal’s hand a final time, then grabbed Molly’s upper arm and hauled her out of the office quickly.
“Molly Riana Collins!” I yelled when we made it outside the building. “You better have a good explaination for this!”
She said nothing, just began wailing, not the same silent crying she had been doing, but loud cries, interrupted by hiccups. She knew she was in a lot of trouble, and she was scared for it.
I, on the other hand, tried to calm myself so I could act rationally and not yell so much. I had a tendency to blow up on people when angered, and at this point in time, I was beyond anger. I was furious. I didn’t have a rational thought in my mind.
We made it to my car and both of us sat down inside, she still crying, I not speaking a word. I wasn’t aware of what was happening, only thoughts filled my mind. I was thinking about how my sweet Molly deliberately disobeyed me, wearing that skirt after I told her not to and made her change. And to top it off, she had lied to me the night before about homework, and disrupted a class so much that caused her to nearly get suspended. I wasn’t a happy camper, let me tell you.
“I’m sorry,” she wailed after a few minutes of sitting in the car with the only noise being the sound of her muffled cries.
I could feel myself wanting to feel sorry for her and take her in my arms, forgiving her for what she did and letting her only have punishment at school. But then I reminded myself of what she’d done. “I’d imagine so, Molly, because you’re in a lot of trouble. If I were in as much trouble as you, I’d be sorry for getting caught, too.”
She cried harder. “B-but n-not for gettin’ caught.”
I shook my head at her. “You’re not getting yourself out of trouble, Molly Riana.”
She bowed her head and cried more, hands in her lap and tears falling into them. Such a sweet precious thing with those braided pigtails and that cute schoolgirl outfit… I didn’t want to punish her, I wanted to cuddle her instead. But I knew that if I didn’t punish her, it would only hurt in the long run. Perhaps she wouldn’t realize the seriousness of her actions and maybe even do it again sometime. I couldn’t take the risk of that happening.
We made it to the house in no time. I guess because my mind was filled with all these thoughts of what to do that it distracted me. Molly’s tears had somewhat subsided by the time we pulled into a parking spot, but the second I opened the door, she began crying again. Her face was as red as a tomato from crying so much and her eyes matched. I sighed and got out of the car, slamming the door shut and leaning against the car, my body still full of anger. Molly didn’t move a muscle. I could hear her hiccuping and crying still. Why couldn’t I just hold her in my arms and forget about the whole thing?
I walked over to her door and opened it. “Come on, Molly,” I commanded.
She shook her head gently and cried more.
I took her chin in my hand and turned her to face me. “Molly Riana, I told you to come on and you will listen to me, do you understand?”
She sniffled, letting more tears escape from her eyes. “I’m sorry, Brian,” she wailed, throwing her legs out of the car and placing them on the concrete. “P-please don’t spank me again.”
“It’s too late for that, kiddo. You should have thought about that while you were disrupting class.”
“B-but… I didn’t know they’d call you!”
Bad answer. “It doesn’t matter if they call me or not! It is still not the right thing to do, Young Lady!”
“I know,” she answered then standing up. I noticed how much I towered over her, how intimidating I must have seemed to the twelve year old. She closed the cardoor, not looking me in the eyes, but walking past me towards the apartment. I sighed, my head throbbing. This was not at the top of my list on things to do for the day.
We got inside the apartment and I ordered her to sit while I paced through the living room. “First things first, I have to call my professor and let him know I won’t be able to make it to class today,” I told her.
“You can still go to class..” she told me, a false hope dwelling inside of her that if I did, I’d come back home having forgotten about the situation at hand.
“Nice try,” I answered, then found the syllabus from my class and dialed his number. I explained to him that I had a family matter to attend to and that I would be in class on Wednesday and apologized a thousand times. He said I wasn’t missing too much, just a little review over what we’d been doing the past couple of weeks and told me that he hoped everything got situated with my family. I thanked him and hung up the phone. Molly was looking at me, fear in her eyes.
“Is he mad?”
“Not as mad as I am.”
I paced around the room again, Molly sitting silently on the couch. “I cannot believe you, Molly,” I lectured. “I can’t believe you wore that after I specifically told you not to, when you knew it was against dress code and that you shouldn’t be wearing it. And you lied to me last night when I asked about your homework, even after I gave you the chance to come clean and tell the truth. Not doing your homework is bad enough, but lying to me about it is even worse.” I paused for a moment. “And I’m not happy about you disrupting class, Young Lady. You need to give the substitutes a break. Sounds like this lady had a lot of patience because after the first time you talked back to me, you’d have gone STRAIGHT to the office, Molly Riana, do you hear me?”
“What you did is totally unacceptable and you know it. I’m not going to tolerate you acting like this, do you understand?” I asked, realzing that I was pointing my finger at her as I scolded.
“I understand,” she answered.
I nodded, hands on hips. “You’re getting a spanking,” I finally told her and she hung her head again, defeated.
“Brian… please,” she begged, looking back up at me with her lower lip poked out. “I don’t want a spanking.”
“I know you don’t, but it’s necessary.”
“Why is it necessary?” she asked, letting the tears fall again.
“Because you did something today that you knew was wrong and you’re going to have to bear the consequences. I don’t like having to punish you, Molly, but if I don’t, you’ll never learn.”
“But I’ve learned,” she whined.
“Not fully,” I answered, sitting down on the couch next to her and pulling her over my lap. “This is going to be something you won’t foget for a very long time,” I told her.
“Pleaseeee, Brian. Pleaseee don’t,” she pleaded, kicking her legs a little.
“Be still,” I commanded and lifted her skirt, resting it on her back. She shivered as the cool air hit her thighs, and shivered even more when I tugged her panties down to her knees. I held her tightly in place. “You will not disrespect an adult again, got it?” I asked, landing one smack to her upturned bottom. “You will not blatently disobey my orders,” I said, then landed another hard smack, “and you will not lie to me,” I said, and added another smack, then another and another.
“Owwww, I won’t!” she promised.
“I will not tolerate this,” I told her, spanking harder, but not too fast as I hadn’t gotten into the real spanking yet, just a warm up.
“I knowwww,” she wailed.
I spanked in rhythm, hitting one cheek, then the other, holding Molly tightly to control her squirms.
“Ahhh, owwwww, that hurrttsss!” she wailed, bucking up.
“I’ve barely started,” I told her, causing more cries and a thunder of spanks on her upturned bottom. She wiggled and squirmed, trying to dodge my spanks, but failing. She kicked her legs furiously and tried to block them with her hands, but I pinned her wrists against her back and her panties slipped down enough to lessen the kicking. “I’m very disappointed in you,” I lectured, beginning to spank a little harder, only to cause more commotion from her end.
“I knowwwww,” she cried, big crocadile tears falling down her reddened face.
“Blatent defiance is something I do not approve of, and you know that. Apparently I didn’t teach you that last time you did something after I told you not to.”
“But I diiiid!” she promised, squirming more with each hard smack that was applied.
“Be still,” I ordered, pausing long enough to position her again. “And if you had learned your lesson, then you wouldn’t have worn that skirt after I told you not to.”
“I’m sorryyy!” she howled as my spanks increased.
“Good. And I’m also very disappointed that you would show such disrespect towards an authority figure. That will NOT be tolerated, Molly Riana. If I EVER hear of you pulling a stunt like that again, I will not hesitate to take my belt off and spank you right there in the principal’s office, do you understand me?”
I felt her shudder in terror of my threat of spanking her in a public place. I couldn’t say I blamed her — that would indeed be very embarrassing. I didn’t think I could do such a thing, but I guess if faced with that situation, which I doubted would happen anytime soon, I might just be obliged to. “Yesssss, Briannn, I understand,” she said.
I then began a rapid volly of hard spanks on her sitspots, at least fifteen or twenty, and she howled in pain, kicking as hysterically as her panties would allow. I heard her try to speak, try to apologize, but everything was broken off in sobs and she never fully completed any sentences.
“Stand up, Molly,” I ordered. “Do not rub, I’m not finished.”
She wailed even more, but pushed herself up from the couch and stood in front of me, skirt not falling back into place. Her face was as red as her hair and tear-streaked. Her blue eyes danced in glistening tears. Her body was racked with sobs and she was shaking. I took pity on her and wanted to end the spanking right then, but I knew that it was a bad idea, especially since I’d already promised her more.
I stood up and lead her to the end of the couch where I gently helped her over. Her body was still shaking, at this time from nervousness because she had no idea what was about to happen. I think her nervousness made her cry even more.
“I’m going to give you a taste of what will happen next time if something like this happens,” I told her, noting how red and swollen her bottom was.
I took a deep breath in, steadying myself because I didn’t want to spank her anymore than she wanted to be spanked. I began unhooking my belt and finally sliding it through the loops, that terrifying sound ringing through the house with Molly’s cries. I folded it over once and stood to the side of Molly, then raised the belt high in the air and sent it down to her bottom, a loud CRACK!! echoing through the apartment, followed by a loud yelp. Molly bucked up, hands flying to her unprotected backside. I just pushed her back down and held her hands, then sent another smack, directly below the red line that was forming. She yelped again, but I didn’t give her enough time to buck before I landed another one on her sit spot.
I let go of her hands and noticed her head sunk into the couch. She didn’t bother rubbing anymore, whether it be because she knew it wouldn’t help or because she was scared I wouldn’t approve, I did not know. I slipped my belt back through the loops and hooked it, then lifted my babygirl from the couch. I didn’t want to be mean anymore, I didn’t want to punish her. I was ready to hold her in my arms.
But there was another matter of business before the cuddling.
I marched the little girl to the dining room table and sat her down on one of the hard wooden chairs.
“Ooooowwwwww!” she yelped, trying to stand back up.
“Sit!” I ordered, pushing her back down.
She did as told, bawling like a baby.
“I want you to write a letter of apology to the substitute teacher for causing her such trouble and I want you to do all the homework you didn’t do last night, then write a letter to that teacher apologizing for not having homework and asking if you can turn this in late, and I want you to do all of your homework for tonight. If I find out that you are slacking in the homework area, I won’t hesitate to take you over my knee again. Got it, Molly?”
I handed her the green backpack and she began taking paper out and started on writing the letters. I slumped down on the couch and watched her, she still crying, but writing genuine letters of apology. And then she started working on her homework, and finally, after about an hour and a half, she was finished with everything and looked at me.
“Finished?” I asked.
She nodded softly.
“Bring it here.”
I read over the letters and my heart shattered as it had plenty of times before for the same sweet girl. The letters were so heartfelt and adorable, my Mollycakes apologizing for each and everything she did wrong and assuring the people that she’d learned her lesson the hard way from a really good friend who actually cared, unlike her mom who never even read the notes that the teachers sent home. I realized that Molly wanted and needed something more than she’d already had… she needed the punishment, needed someone to tell her no and give her consequences. She was indeed a good girl, but needed guidance, even wanted it. And although her face was tear-streaked and backside throbbing, I knew that she appreciated it.
“Come here, babygirl,” I said, voice now soft. She fell into my arms and I snuggled with her for what seemed like hours. I rocked her back and forth like I had when her mom left. I rubbed her back gently telling her that I loved her.
“I love you, too,” she replied.
And that’s when I knew she was going to be staying with me for a loooong time. And I was glad of that.