I Like Cheese


Another drinking story.  Jodi gets wasted, Derrick takes care of her.  (One of my best ‘drinking’ stories.)


I’m not a heavy drinker, I promise. In fact, I really don’t drink that much. It’s just sometimes you feel the need to party and, well, you end up getting more than you bargained for, in more ways than one.

When you’re sixteen and have a job with a bunch of guys older than you, most of then between the ages of 18 and 20, and they invite you over to their house, how can you actually turn that down? I mean, I’m a shy girl, and I thought I was doing well just talking to these guys. Then they invite me over. Who actually says no?

Um, my twenty-two year old brother. The minute I told him I was going to hang out with Danny and Steven, I thought Derrick was going to go through the roof!!

“There is no way I’m letting you go to some guy’s house who’s that much older than you!” he yelled.

I rolled my eyes. “Derrick, please,” I said, not saying please to beg him, but saying it more in a sarcastic tone. “Give me a break, I’m sixteen years old and these guys are my friends!”

“Then how come I’ve never met them?”

“Because it’s not cool for guys to meet some girl’s older brother! It’s embarrassing. Can’t you just stop treating me like I’m twelve for a couple of minutes? It’s not like I’m stupid. I’m not going to do anything I’m not supposed to.”

He sighed. “It’s against my better judgement,” he told me. “But I guess if you really want to go, it’s fine.”

I nearly yelped with joy, but he stopped me.

“Before you get your hopes up, I want to know where this guy lives, and your curfew is midnight, no exceptions, got it?”

“Got it!” I was so ecstatic that I could barely contain myself.

The weekend finally rolled around and I talked constantly with Danny about going over to his house. Apparently we were throwing a party for one of the guys at work because he was transferring to Virginia for college. It was sort of like an end of summer bash. It really sucked that I had to be home by midnight, but both Danny and I got off of work at eight, and most of the other people would be around about nine. To top it off, someone was buying alcohol. How cool is that?

At sixteen, I’d only drank maybe twice before, and neither time went over that well. The first time I was fifteen and stayed the night with a friend two years my elder who worked as a hostess with tons of guys over 21. One of them bought us a six pack of Skyy Blue and by the second one we were “drunk” (at least inside our heads!). The other time was a small party at a friend’s house where I tried whiskey for the first time and ended up spending the rest of the night watching her make out with her boyfriend.

Since this would be the third drinking experience, I was determined to make it the best. The only problem was that I had to go home that night, and no way would I be telling Derrick about the drinking involved. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

That Friday night at eight, I grabbed some clothes from my car and hurried into the bathroom to change. I’m not going to a guy’s house in my work uniform, whether he’s going to be in his or not!! I put on the cutest clothes that I had found in my closet, which was a spaghetti strap shirt and a tight pair of jeans, something that I wouldn’t be caught dead in with Derrick around. Luckily, I’d have time to change before having to drive home.

The apartment complex that Danny lived in wasn’t far from my house. In fact, it was only a couple of blocks away. Maybe that’s why I decided that drinking would be fine — because it was close to my house. If it’s so close to my house, there’s no way that a little alcohol could really hinder me from getting home effectively. Yeah, like I said, I’d never been drunk before! I didn’t know any better.

The party was going great! I tried some beer (it was gross) and then had a couple of screwdrivers, ignoring the fact that my face was flushed and the room was getting very hot. We then took straight shots of vodka, turning the music up louder because, um, I guess it wasn’t loud enough? By my fourth shot of vodka, the room was spinning, I’d lost all of my inhibitions, and I was half naked. I wasn’t the only one — the other two girls who were around were side-by-side with me compairing boobs. I have no idea why. I didn’t have a clue as to what time it was, I was giggling profusely, and roaring that I liked cheese (until I got tired of hearing myself repeat that, so I changed it to “cake” that I liked).

I was definitely gone when the door swung open and the girls and I were dancing in the middle of the floor. I don’t remember what exactly happened, because everything’s somewhat of a blur. The room was still spinning and I did, by this time, have my shirt on (thank God!). I was totally confused when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I screamed as loud as I could.

“Jodi, Jesus Christ, calm down,” I heard the voice say. I recognized the voice, and the face, and even though I knew it was Derrick, I calmed down. Which was a mistake.

“Ohhhh, heyyy Derrick!!! Wanna drink?” I murmured, shoving the screwdriver in his hand.

“Jodi, do you know what time it is?” he asked, getting angrier by the moment.

“No idea,” I admitted, poking him in the chest. “I bet you do, though!” I giggled.

He sat the drink down on the coffee table and sort of stooped down to my level, lifting my chin so I’d look at him in the eyes. “You are seriously drunk, aren’t you?”

“Just a little,” I giggled, lifting my hands about an inch apart to show him how drunk I was. Yeah, I should have stretched my arms out and showed him.

“It’s after two in the morning, kiddo, and you haven’t been answering your cell.”

I gasped. “MY CELL!” I yelped. “Where is it?!” I instantly dropped to the floor and began searching for it.

I blacked out after that, and when I came back, my phone was in my hand, I was backed up against the wall, the two girls were passed out on the couch, shirtless, and Derrick was yelling at the top of his lungs to a drunken Steven. I couldn’t make out much of what was being said, but my brother was pretty pissed.

“… underage kids. You’re fucking lucky that I don’t call the cops on you guys for this shit,” I heard.

“Derrick,” I slurred, “take it easy,” I tried to touch his arm to calm him down but he moved away from me.

“Don’t tell me to take it easy, Jodi Marie, you are in enough trouble as it is!” he bellowed.

I, being new to this drunk thing and not realizing that I was being really obnoxious, replied back, “Derrick, you’re being unreasonable,” I muttered, unable to really hold my head up.

“I’m being unreasonable? You’re not home at two in the morning and I come here to find you drunk as fuck and I’m the one being unreasonable?”

“Yes,” I answered, plain and simple, then giggled.

He said a few final words to Steven, words that I wasn’t concerned enough about to actually listen to, and then grabbed me and hauled me off, scolding me the whole way to the car.

My mood had taken a turn for the worse and now I was crying.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I don’t know!” I cried, being shoved into the car, still bawling.

The next thing I knew I was sitting on the bathroom floor on my knees, head in the toilet, someone behind me holding my hair back. I felt as if someone had beaten my head into a brick wall then kicked me in the stomach a few times.

“Derrick,” I whined.

“Yes?” he answered.

“I’m so drunk,” I admitted.

“I couldn’t tell.”

“Why am I so drunk?”

“Because you drank a lot?”

“Oh.” It’s such a simple answer to someone who’s in their right mind, but I wasn’t even close. I was so messed up that it wasn’t obvious I was drunk because I’d been drinking. Wow.

“You okay?”

“No, it hurts.”

“I’d imagine so. You’re pretty trashed.”

“I don’t like being trashed.”


When I woke up the next time I was lying on the couch, the sun was rising, a trashcan sat next to me, and Derrick was on the recliner watching Brady Bunch reruns. I had the grossest taste in my mouth and my stomach was still making weird noises and threatening to release what little of my insides were left.

I studied my older brother for a moment, not having the strength to move, but noting that the alcohol was definitely wearing off because I could actually feel that guilt. And, um, I knew that Derrick was probably going to be super pissed at me. Not a good sign. He was sitting there, a white undershirt and pair of jeans on, blue eyes staring at the tv. I was trying to make out what the look on his face was. He was definitely concentrating too hard for it to be just the episode of the Brady Bunch. I mean, give me a break, that show isn’t *that* deep! And as hard as he was concentrating it was either on a) what had happened, or b) what he was going to do to me. Eep!!

I groaned and rolled over a bit, catching his attention. “Hey, Jodi… you okay?” he asked, moving towards me and squatting down beside me.

“I guess,” I mumbled. “My stomach hurts, and my head, too.”

“That’s what usually happens when you get a hangover.”

I nodded.

“What possessed you to drink that much?” he asked.

I shrugged.

He shook his head and patted me on the shoulder. “Get some rest. We’re going to have a long talk about this later.”

I gulped. A long talk wasn’t a good sign. I had the feeling that the talking wouldn’t be with his mouth.

Though I feared for my life, I still managed to doze off into a somewhat sleep. It was hardly peaceful. My mind was racing and everytime I fell asleep, I managed to wake up wheezing. Derrick was there for me each time, keeping my hair held back, assuring me that I wasn’t dying (though I kept swearing that I was!). Finally, I got about three hours of straight sleeping and woke up without wheezing. This time, my older brother wasn’t in sight and my mouth was so dry and I ached in so many different places.

I stood up dizzily and stumbled towards the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge.

“Hey,” Derrick said from behind me, causing me to jump a little.

“Hi,” I murmured back, taking a sip of the water and keeping my eyes averted to the ground.

“How are you feeling?”


He moved towards the counter and leaned against it, folding him arms. Yikes. “I’d like to know something, Jodi,” he told me.

I bit my lower lip. “What?”

“Look at me,” he ordered.

From across the kitchen I lifted my head, my eyes lost deep in his gaze.

“What the hell were you thinking last night, pulling such a stunt?”

My lip quivered as the seriousness of what I’d done finally kicked in. “I- I don’t know,” I stammered like an idiot.

“I understand you’re curious. We’ve all had the desires to do something unknown just to see what it’s like. You’re a teenager and I know you’re going to drink. The point is that you have to do it responsibly. You are NOT to drive after you’ve been drinking, which I know you were planning on doing…”

“No I wasn’t,” I cut in, trying to save myself.

“Yes you were… you told me.”

“I did?” Good job saving myself..

“Yes, you did. You don’t remember?”

I shook my head. “What’d I say?”

“You told me that you were fine, just a little dizzy, and you’d be okay to drive home. That all the stuff people talk about is just bullshit.. it couldn’t happen to you.”

Eck! “Oh,” I looked down at the floor again.

“Look at me, Jodi,” he ordered, coming towards me from leaning against the counter and lifted my chin up, looking down at me. “They don’t make up those stories about drinking and driving. Those actually happen. You could end up in jail, or worse, dead.”

“I know,” I muttered.

“If you *ever* go to a party and get wasted, I want you to call me. I don’t care what the circumstances are. I guarantee you that you’ll be much better off calling me from a party you weren’t supposed to go to than driving home drunk from that party. Because if I ever find out that you’ve been drinking and driving, your car is mine for a very, very, long time, understand?”

I nodded.

“Secondly, if you’re going to drink, use it in moderation. There were tons of guys around there last night and any of them could have raped you. ANY of them… and now you could be pregnant. And there is such a thing as alcohol poisioning… kids dying from binge drinking. Ever heard of that?”


“I’m very disappointed that you acted so irresponsibily last night,” he concluded, sighing and moving his hand away from my chin so I could stare at my toes some more. “And I know you knew there was going to be drinking there.”

“It’s not that easy to tell you stuff like that sometimes,” I admitted. “I really wanted to go and hang out with friends. I enjoy being part of their group. It’s cool to fit in for once.”

“And who will you be fitting in with if you’re in jail?”

I shrugged. “All I was thinking about was that if I told you about the drinking that you wouldn’t let me go… and at the time, that wasn’t an option. I didn’t think that I’d get that drunk.. I’ve never been drunk before.”

“And now that you have, was it that great?”

I shook my head. “The drunk part was okay, but I did some really stupid stuff, and I feel really crappy about right now.”

“Jodi, just promise me that you won’t drink and drive?”

I nodded. “I promise.”

He hugged me tightly, rubbing my back a little. As he released, I took another sip of my water. “I’d suggest lying down for the rest of the evening and taking it easy. You have to work tomorrow evening and I want to discuss this situation with you further before you go.”

Gulping, I said, “okay.” We didn’t speak for a moment, just stood there, I still staring at my toes, he probably staring at me. Finally I had to know something. “Derrick… what all happened last night? At least while you were there?”

I looked up in time to catch him running his fingers through his hair. “Well, I got there and you were pretty messed up, and I wanted to know why you hadn’t been answering your phone, then you freaked out because you didn’t know where it was, and the whole time it was in your pocket. Then those girls that were there had the bright idea to show everyone their boobs and you wanted to join in on that fun, but I wouldn’t let you.”

Phew… that’d have been embarrassing if I’d shown my brother my boobs!

“And then that guy, the shaggy one with the blond hair, started talking shit and really pissed me off. Saying something about how the only thing you had to do to get bitches to show you their boobs was get them drunk, so I went off on him. Started yelling about how everyone in the house was underaged and if I called the cops, everyone there would be spending a night in jail. Then you butted in, but I was so livid I don’t even remember what you said, just remember dragging you out of there, hauling you down the steps, rambling on about how dangerous what you did was, like you’d actually remember it. Then we got to the car and you started crying and wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, and the whole ride home you kept repeating yourself. Then we came home and had the hardest time getting inside, you puked in the bushes, then I helped you to the bathroom, then carried you to bed.”

“Wow… crazy night,” I admitted.

He nodded. “For you and me, both,” he said. “And I am not even the least bit happy about it.”

I bit my lip and nodded. “Okay, I’m off to bed,” I told him, giving my brother a final hug before shuffling off to my room. My stomach was churning inside of me, and this time it wasn’t because I was about to vomit. It was guilt and nervousness. Guilt about what I’d done, and I was nervous about my impending punishment. I might have been curious about alcohol, but not even slightly curious about what was going to happen to me when Derrick found out. I guess I had known that he’d find out, but decided to ignore that. I wanted so much to fit in, to be part of the gang. Guess that all fell through. If they hadn’t already thought I was a loser, they *really* thought it now, what with my older brother coming to pick me up and all.

About 7:30 that evening I was lying on my bed, sleeping off and on, when my phone rang. I was sort of scared to answer it, especially since it was the guy we had been throwing the party for, Mike. I didn’t even want to hear what this twenty year old hottie had to say about me.

But I answered it anyway. “Hello?”

“Hey, Jodi?” he asked. “It’s Mike.”

“Hey,” I groaned, rolling over onto my back. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, was just calling to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little hungover. Everyone must think I’m an idiot.”

“Nah, I don’t think that at all,” he told me, causing a slight grin to form. “I mean, not because of your brother or anything. It definitely wasn’t smart that you drank so much, and even more so that you were planning on driving home… but I’m glad your brother came to pick you up. Nearly everyone else passed out shortly after you left. No one remembers much of anything. Steven remembers some guy yelling at him, but has no idea it was your brother. Just wanted to let you know, so you wouldn’t worry.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“Your bro wasn’t too hard on you, was he?”

“Not yet,” I admitted, having no idea why I was actually telling him the truth.

“I’ve always liked him. We went to school together, were on the same baseball team his senior year. Doubt he remembers me. Would probably kill me if he knew that I had been some of the reason you were drinking. He’s always been really overprotective of you.”

“Tell me about it,” I mumbled.

Mike just chuckled. “You should be thankful. There’s plenty of girls just like you who would kill to have someone care about them half as much as Derrick does about you.”

“I know.”

“Anyway, was just calling to make sure everything was okay,” he finally said. “Guess I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yeah, give me a call from Virginia. Would love to see how college is going.”

“Definitely,” he promised and shortly after, hung up the phone.

I spent the next few minutes thinking about Mike and all of the guys at the party, as well as the two girls that I’d barely known. I wondered what the purpose of drinking was, especially if it caused so much trouble. I feared that I’d become a sorry alcoholic like my dad and end up leaving my family instead of kicking the habit. Why did it seem to matter so much that I impressed other people? Or why did I let my curiousity get the best of me? Would anyone have really thought of me differently had I not drank? Would they have said, “oh, yeah, I forgot you’re only sixteen.”

The truth is, if these guys were really my friends, they wouldn’t have cared if I drank. They’d have been like Mike and said something along the lines of “Sixteen is too young to be drinking anyway.” Something brotherly… something Derrick would say. That’s when I realized that I was lucky to have him as an older bro, and that I really wouldn’t give him up for the world. Nobody else had ever given two shits about me. It was nice to have someone like Derrick around.

The next morning I woke up fairly early, well rested on my thirteen hours of sleep. It was about ten in the morning (yes, that’s early for me!) and Derrick was in the living room watching tv.

“There you are, sleepy head. Haven’t seen you in a while. How’s the stomach?”

I rubbed my growling tummy. “It’s hungry.”

He smiled. “I’ll bet. You haven’t eaten in a while. You’re fine, otherwise?”

I shrugged. “Feel bad about letting you down,” I told him, plopping down beside him and lying my head on his shoulder.

He put an arm around me. “I take it you learned your lesson then?”

I nodded like crazy. “I definitely learned my lesson.”

“And what lesson is that?”

“That drinking is stupid, but if I decide to do it, don’t go crazy with it and don’t drink and drive.”

“Glad that this has been a learning experience for you, though I really wish it could have gone differently.”

“Me too.”

“So I guess you know that you’ve gotta be punished, huh?”

I cringed. “Do I really hafta?”

“Yes you really hafta,” he teased.

“But I thought the point of a punishment was to teach a lesson?”

“Well, it is, sort of. But it’s also something that’ll help you make a better decision in the future.”

“But I don’t think I’m going to need any help with that.”

“Next time you think about drinking, you’ll probably not say, ‘Oh, I disappointed Derrick so I won’t do it.’ But, if you’ve been appropriately punished, you’ll say ‘Last time I did this, Derrick tore my ass up and I definitely don’t want that to happen again!'”

I winced at the way he described the spanking. Tearing up an ass does not sound delightful! He couldn’t have put it in better terms?

“Aren’t I correct, Jodi?”

“I guess,” I mumbled truthfully. Any normal person would have argued their point further, but I didn’t really feel like it. I knew when Derrick set is mind to something, he was determined to go through with it. I wasn’t going to waste my breath when it was worthless.

“Do you wanna go ahead and get it over with or wait til after we eat a bit?”

Sorry guys, I’m a “play-now-work-later” type of girl. Procrastination is my middle name. If it was something I didn’t like, I’d put it off as long as I could! “We can wait til after we eat.”

Derrick is the total opposite. I could tell by the look on his face that he would have rather me said to go ahead and get it over with, but he didn’t push it. After all, he gave me the choice.

Unfortuantely, eating first didn’t buy me much time. We were finished eating within an hour and I hoped that our stomachs could settle first. Fortuantely, he didn’t bring the punishment up and we sat down in front of the tv to watch some cartoons for a little while.

About an hour and a half after the announcing of my punishment, my brother spoke. “Okay, Jodi, let’s get this over with,” he said. Those simple words that I’d been dreading to hear.

“Awww, can’t we just watch one more show?”

He flipped the tv off and raised his eyebrows, looking at me. “No, we can’t. Come on, pants and panties down and over my knee,” he ordered, patting his lap.

I pouted, poking my lower lip out and giving him an adorable puppy face to try to get myself out of this one.

“Not happening, Jodi. Not getting out of this one. I’m really disappointed in you and you’re going to get spanked and the longer you stall, the longer it’s going to last.”

I sighed, pushing myself off the couch and unbuttoning and unzipping my pants, putting my thumb inbetween the wastebands of both them and my panties, then tugging them down to mid-thigh. I hoisted myself over Derrick’s lap, nervous anticipating creeping through my body. Burying my face in the couch, I felt him tug my pants and panties farther down so he’d be able to cover every inch of my bottom without any interference from clothing. My teeth were clenched tightly together, and my eyes stayed shut. I wasn’t looking forward to this one bit.

“Okay, Jodi. Fill me in on why I’m punishing you.”

He rested one hand on my bum and the other on my lower back. “Because I drank a lot last night and was planning on driving home.”

“And what else?”

I racked my brain to figure out why else I was being punished. Let’s see… I was going to drive home after drinking, but I drank, and I was underage, but I figured those two went together. Maybe it was because I sort of lied about this party when I knew there was going to be drinking? Giving that a shot wouldn’t hurt. “I didn’t tell you that there was going to be drinking there when I knew there was.”

“And that’s dishonest, Jodi. If there’s one thing I don’t like, it’s dishonesty, got it?”

“Yes,” I answered, realizing that this time, I wasn’t much for the play-now-work-later. I was desperately wishing he’d hurry up and spank me and get it over with. The way his hand rested so softly on my bottom made me quiver in fear because I knew how rough those hands could be. He’d played some form of baseball for at least 14 years, and played in the schools’ varsity teams for six. That could tell you right there that he’s a strong guy. And from my previous experiences, I knew that once he got started, he wouldn’t stop no matter how much you were screaming bloody murder (which would happen shortly after the first few smacks). But I was sick of the quivering, and the anticipation. I was ready to go ahead and get it over with because if he didn’t hurry up, the anticipation would eat me alive.

“What’s so wrong with you doing all this stuff anyway?” he asked.

I wanted to tell him to shut up and spank me already! But I figured his response wouldn’t be quite the one that I’d be looking for. “I could end up in jail for underage drinking or for driving, or I could have gotten raped, or killed. And when I’m dishonest it really hurts you and you lose your trust in me.”

“Right. I care about you too much to let any of those things happen to you. Don’t you know that?”

“Yes, I know.”

He took me by surprise when he lifted his hand and smacked it down on my rump. It happened so quickly I almost didn’t know what was going on. Then I remember that I was being punished.

Derrick didn’t stop there. He pounded down on my bottom more times than I could count! I did really well at the beginning, after the first dozen smacks or so. I just said “ow!” hoping that it was the hardest he would get because otherwise, I’d be in for a treat!

Oh, was I in for a treat! He didn’t increase his speed so much as the intensity of the smacks. They started out a little more than mild, and within no time, they turned into really really hard smacks. “I’m not going to tolerate this out of you, Jodi,” he told me, not pausing from the spanking to talk to me.

“Owww!! AHhh!!! Derrick!! Ow!! I know!” I yelped, squirming and trying to dodge his smacks.

He just tightened his grip around my waiste and spanked harder.

“Oohhhh that hurrtsss!!! Ooowwwww!” I howled

“This will be a lesson that you don’t soon forget,” he said, right before delivering some very sharp painful smacks to my sitspots that sent my hands flying back to cover my rear.

He ignored my hands and kept on spanking, finding a spot to spank that my hand wasn’t big enough to cover. He also didn’t stop the spanking to restrain my hands behind my back. I began bucking up and down and kicking like a baby. “OOOWWWW!!! Pllleasseeeeeee, Derrick!!” I begged, still kicking. “Owwwwwww!!!”

“Am I making an impression?” he asked.

Duh!! “Y-yessss!!” I stammered, kicking. “Ooowwww,” I whined, still bucking and kicking.


I felt the blows to my thighs and shrieked in pain. “Pleaseee noo morreeee!! I’ll be gooooddd!!” I promised.

“I know you will, but I’m not finished yet,” he answered, keeping up with the steady spanking. I couldn’t help but think that if it got any worse I really was going to die! “You might think this hurts right now, but not nearly as much as it would hurt if you were in jail or dead right now.”

Easy for you to say! You’re not the one getting the hell wallopped out of you by your older baseball player brother! “Oooowwwww, I knowwww!!” No way was I telling him what was really on my mind.

He must have spanked me for a solid five minutes with his hand before he stopped and lifted me up. I hadn’t broken into tears yet, which was surprising because my ass was smarting like crazy. I mean, believe me, I was crying, just tears hadn’t started streaming down my face yet. If he had kept on going for a couple of more smacks, those tears would have really been pouring out!

I stood there, still whining and slightly touching my warm bottom as I watched Derrick unbuckle his belt. He slid it through the loops which caused me to break down into sobs, my face buried into my hands. I had expected more than a hand spanking the entire time, but now that I was faced with the belt, it scared me more than ever.

“Come on, Jodi, back over my knee,” he ordered.

I whined but obeyed like a good girl and gently placed myself back over his lap.

“Don’t reach back,” he told me in a soft voice.

“Okay,” I replied, knowing that the minute the spanking started, I’d be reaching back. It’s a bad habit I have.

He reached his arm around my waist and held me tightly, then sent the first lash across my bottom, causing a loud shrill to erupt from my mouth..

“Oooowwwwww!!!!” I squalled, moving my hands back, but Derrick kept up his rhythm, not worrying about whether or not he hit my hand.

It seems that when I reached back and it didn’t help any, I would have moved my hand away, but I didn’t. I just kept moving it to spots, trying to get him to stop spanking me. I knew any efforts were futile.

“Jodi!” he hollered, giving me a sharp smack to the sitspots. “I told you not to reach back!”

“I knowwww,” I bawled, kicking my legs furiously. “But it hurts!!!”

He kept the licks coming, swatting my hand with the belt every so often and finally, realizing that I wasn’t moving it anytime soon, he decided to grab my wrist and pin it to my lower back.

The pain crept through my body as the never-ending spanking continued, Derrick giving me his all with that dreadful leather belt of his. “Plllleasseeeee!!” I begged, greeting the tears that fell from my face. “Pleaseee stoppppppp. I won’t do it againnnnn,” I pleaded.

“I know you won’t, Jodi,” he answered, but still gave a couple of blows to my sitspots and thighs.

I stopped resisting and gave all of my energy to crying helplessly instead of struggling. My body went limp and my legs stopped kicking. I stopped trying to cover where he was spanking. The only movement I was making was my shoulders moving up and down with each sob that escaped from me. I don’t know how much longer he spanked me after that, but eventually (thank God!) he stopped.

He let me lie there and gain my composure for a few minutes. Inside my head I was dizzy, guilty, and thinking about the pain I was enduring. I have no idea how long I lay there and cried… it felt like hours. He eventually lifted me up and hugged me tightly, kissing my forehead and buring my face into his chest. He spoke softly to me, stroking my hair gently.

“I won’t do it again!” I promised.

“I know you won’t, baby,” he answered, rocking me back and forth.

And I kept my promise. The thought of drinking and driving never crossed my mind and anytime there was a party with drinking involved, I let Derrick know. No way was I going to risk all of those bad things (like rape, jail, another spanking…). It just wasn’t worth it.

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