Mia is grumpy that she has to spend so much time at the casino hotel while her mom gambles. At least they have Dance Dance Revolution in the arcade. With the video game and the presence of her two new acquaintances, it turns out not to be so bad. (Playful spankings and a serious one. This story is different from a lot of my other ones.)
The oddest place to meet someone is in the arcade of a casino hotel. My mom had a complimentary room at a riverboat casino a couple of hours away from our house and claimed that I must go with her — nevermind I was almost seventeen and should be able to stay home alone. She didn’t care about that. Of course, looking back, I have no regrets. I wouldn’t have changed that night to save my life.
We arrived to the hotel sometime late in the evening on Friday, the middle of April. We had enough time to walk the bellhop to our 14th floor room before our seven o’clock dinner reservations at the steakhouse. This hotel was becoming my second home — the hotel closer to my house was a first home. You know how casinos work: you go there, spend your money, win every so often, and they send you coupons in the mail that lure you there. “Free hotel room” or “Free dinner for two” or “free gift” in bold red letters with the false hope that you’re receiving more than you’re giving. But I couldn’t stop my mom from going because I loved the free chocolate ice cream as much as she loved playing the penny slots. I just hated spending the weekend alone in a hotel room hours away from home. I couldn’t even call my friends because it was long distance — and the hotel didn’t have MTV. So I was setting myself up for a miserable night.
“Oh, look! I never noticed the arcade before!” my mom said, pointing to a sign that identified the arcade as being in the basement.
“Oh joy,” I mumbled, mainly to myself. Not that I didn’t like arcades, I just knew it would be full of twelve year olds and I would be forced to stay there all night if I wanted any sort of entertainment.
We made our way to the end of the hallway where there was a cluster of restaurants. The steakhouse was secluded: it was a place dedicated to the elite or heavy gamblers (we, of course, fell into the latter category). Conversation was a dull murmur and the piano played a Beethoven tune that I couldn’t place a name to. Our host was a gorgeous Latino who had an adorable accent and pulled my chair out for me. Our waiter was the exact opposite — an old white man with gray hair who couldn’t hear us and never refilled my drink.
“Mia,” my mom began.
Oh great… she was giving me that look. The same one she’d given me for months, at least since she found out about my self-injury problem.
“Truthfully… Are you okay? You seem so down lately.”
“Sure I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”
She sighed, shaking her head at me, probably thinking about how she couldn’t understand teen angst. “I don’t know. You seem so unhappy.”
I shrugged my shoulders and crammed the steak in my mouth to avoid further conversation.
But she persisted, “maybe they have that game you like… the dancing game, you know? I’ll play with you if you’d like.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mom,” I said. “They probably won’t have it anyway.” With my negative attitude, I managed to either aggravate or depress my mom enough to shut her up. I just politely finished my meal and watched her sign off for the comp meal. She then handed me the doggie bag.
“I’m going to play for a while. Here’s some money for the arcade. I’ll see you later.” She planted a kiss on my forehead and slipped me a twenty dollar bill.
I ambled down the hallway looking on the bright side of things. At least if I got too bored I could call room service for ice cream and rent a pay-per-view movie. Besides, if the arcade had the dancing game, which was called DDR, I could play at least twenty times. That could easily kill a couple of hours.
I decided to stop by the room first to drop off the doggie bag and settle my stomach. I pressed the up arrow and waited for the elevator. I was getting anxious and feeling oddly out of place when there was a ding and one of the doors opened. I stepped inside next to a man with emo glasses who was smoking a cigarette.
“In for the night already? You must’ve hit a big jackpot,” he said as the elevator ascended.
I looked at him.
He smiled. “I’m Jamie,” and extended his hand.
“Mia,” I muttered, shaking his hand, “and I’m not even old enough to get in the casino.”
He didn’t seem surprised. “They’re no fun anyway.”
“So why are you here?” I asked in an angry tone. Part of that teen angst, I guesss.
“Doctor said I needed a vacation. Almost time for finals and just got over my cat’s death and a horrible breakup with my boyfriend. The jerk.”
I still stared at him.
“And when my doctor found out I sliced my wrists he put me on meds and demanded a vacation.”
Who tells this to people in an elevator? I wondered. But I had to look at his wrists anyway. He was wearing long sleeves.
“Not really, baby. There was a breakup and cat death, but no meds and no sliced wrists. Am I making you uncomfortable?”
I raised my eyebrows. “No, not at all.” Truth was, I actually kind of liked him. He was open, nice, and fairly attractive, even if he was a gay man. Not saying gay men aren’t attractive, just that they’re totally off limits. A friend of mine once had a crush on a gay man… the only problem was that, well, he was gay and she was a woman.
The elevator dinged on the twelfth floor and the doors parted. “Well, nice to meet you, Mia,” he said. “You seem pretty cool.”
As he turned to walk away I wanted to invite him to play DDR with me and maybe even to the room for some ice cream and PPV. But I didn’t — I just let him walk off, and the doors closed and the elevator continued on its way to my floor.
I could only stand being alone in the room for about thirty minutes. I kept thinking about Jamie and wondered if it’d be weird to walk around on the twelfth floor for a little while to see if he came out… maybe to the coke machine. But that would be too stalker-ish, so I changed into my pja pants, put on some flipflops and went down to the basement.
I wouldn’t have found the arcade if it hadn’t been for the random signs. It was in a corner of its own, no windows, no loud noises. I almost decided to not go inside, but there was a sign on the door that said “24-hour Arcade” and I couldn’t resist. I pushed it open.
It wasn’t the best arcade I’d ever been in. Some of the games were old and outdated, others didn’t work. I ambled through the mass of games, deciding which ones I would play and losing hope of them having a DDR machine. I was about to turn around and go back to my room when I recognized Jamie at the token machine.
“Was this part of the therapy?” I teased.
He turned around and smiled. “It sure was. I’m totally addicted to Dance Dance Revolution.”
“No shit!” I squealed, taking a step back. “Me too! I love that game!”
Jamie inserted a five dollar bill into the token machine and twenty tokens spilled out. “You’re on, then. There’s another kid over there who’s pretty awesome, too. He’s probably around your age. How old are you anyway?”
“Seventeen…. almost. How old are you?”
“Holyshit, I’m old! I’m 23.”
“That’s not old.”
“Too old to be playing DDR with a couple of sixteen year olds.”
“True, but I won’t hold it against you.” I then put the twenty dollar bill in the machine to exchange for tokens and loaded them into my pockets. “Especially after I kick your ass.”
He smirked and showed me towards the DDR machine. A boy was playing and Jamie had been right, he did look about my age. He was sort of cute, in more of a boyish way. He had dark skin, like he was mixed African American and Caucasian. His hair was short and black. He was wearing baggy jeans and a T-shirt. He wasn’t chubby but not scrawny either, the perfect size. And damn, he was good. He was playing on heavy mode which is like the fourth level.
“He’s being a showoff,” Jamie whispered, then said, “but isn’t he adorable?”
I blushed and nodded. While this kid was about my height and average build, Jamie was tall and thin with the build of someone in the military.
The song was over and the boy turned around. “That was horrible!” he said then caught my eye and grinned. “I’m Zach.”
I introduced myself and nodded.
“So let’s see how good you are,” Jamie demanded, playfully shoving me to the dance pad. I wanted to showoff with someone difficult but not so difficult that I screwed up a lot. I decided to go with standard mode — the third level — and pick my favorite song. I breezed through it with all perfects and greats. Then I chose another song I was really good at called Cow Girl. For the last one I picked yet another familiar song and when it started the boys were giggling behind me. I didn’t realize what they were snickering at until the steps came up and it was something totally different than what I was used to.
“What the hell…” I swore aloud.
They giggled louder and I noticed they had changed my level without my knowledge. I cussed them as I attempted to play, then the game stopped and the screen was black for a split second until it said FAILED in big blue letters. I stomped on the pad in frustration and glared at the boys. No hard feelings, though. The three of us took turns playing together and picking hard songs we knew the other person would do badly on. Jamie and I were about the same level and it was obvious that Zach was better than us both. After about an hour playing, Jamie wanted a cigarette, and I wanted some water, and Zach wanted to rest. So we went back outside, found a coke machine and plopped down against the wall, talking. I learned that Zach and I had met before because his father worked at the hotel and he was there all the time. He was fifteen years old and had an older half-sister from his mother’s previous marriage, but she was in college in Boston. Jamie was adopted, had a younger sister and older brother in his adopted family. Most of his family was okay with his homosexuality. He loved acting and writing and was majoring in English to be a high school teacher.
“So what’s your story?” Jamie asked taking a long drag off his cigarette.
I took a deep breath in, wondering where to start and how much to say. “My mom has a gambling problem so she has loads of complimentary shit. I’m uber cynical. And I’ll be glad when high school is over so I can go far away for college.”
“What are you going to be when you grow up?” Zach asked.
I shrugged. “I dunno. I know I want a lot of money, that’s for sure.”
Jamie finished smoking and the mood got lighter when we pushed the door to the arcade back open.
“I have an idea,” Zach said when we once again arrived by the game.
“Do share,” I replied and Jamie nodded encouragingly.
“We could make it a competition,” he said, then glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly one so no one will be coming in probably. We can play on our comfortable mode and choose random songs.”
“What’s in it for the winner?” Jamie asked.
“After every game, winner spanks the loser.”
My heart skipped a beat and weird things happened inside my body. I began to feel nervously excited. The thought of either of them spanking me brought about some weird emotions. I wasn’t sure if I wanted it or feared it.
“Sounds like a deal to me,” Jamie said, and I seconded it. I volunteered for Jamie and Zach to go first. Zach was a math whiz and had the determining factors all figured out. I just wanted to see one of them spank the other.
I sat back, watching them compete. They were really getting into it. Truthfully, neither did that well on the first two songs, but the last one, Zach kicked ass and later calculated his win. Jamie didn’t seem too worried.
My heart began racing as Zach smirked at Jamie then sat down patting his lap. “Come over my lap,” he said and winked.
You’ve got to be kidding me! I thought. Jamie was eight years older than Zach, not to mention waay taller! But he smiled back and made a suggestive “ooo!” noise, then leaned over his lap. My throat was so dry, I couldn’t speak. Even after Zach said “tell me when two minutes is up” all I could do was nod. He lifted his hand and slapped Jamie’s bottom mildly a couple of times and they were both laughing a little until Zach began to hit harder and Jamie said, “damn! that kinda hurts!” And that did it. I think after that we were not only competing to win DDR, but also to see who could spank the hardest.
“Okay,” I said, though I hadn’t wanted the spanking to end. Or maybe I did — it was getting me a little too excited.
Jamie pushed off of Zach’s lap and rubbed his bottom. “That so didn’t hurt,” he said and pulled me up to compete. I was so nervous that my heart was racing and I was shaking a little. I took a deep breath and pretended to be cool. I definitely wasn’t going to lose on purpose, but it sure was on my mind.
I lucked out on the first song — the game just happened to pick a song that I was familiar with and Zach was terrible at. Of course, the second song made me so nervous that I did horribly, and the final song was one that I’d never been able to play.
“I win again,” Zach teased, and took a seat on the dance pad.
“Hey, that’s twice in a row… I think he’s cheating!” I protested to Jamie.
“Oh stop your whining. He doesn’t spank *that* hard.”
Zach gave Jamie an evil look and pulled me over his lap. I wanted to make more protests, but curiousity kept my mouth shut. My heart raced more than it ever had before and my throat was dry with nervousness. All of these thoughts kept running through my head: what if someone sees? What if it hurts? What if I like it? Am I supposed to like it? Will he like it, too?
I felt his warm hand rest on my pajama-clad bum. He was breathing heavily from having played so much. I felt his other arm wrap around my stomach and he shifted a little when he asked Jamie about timing it. Then he said, “Jamie thinks I don’t spank hard, but we’ll see about that.”
I opened my mouth to assure him we didn’t have to prove anyone wrong, but I was unable to speak. And then, without warning, he delivered the first blow. It caught me by surprise and I think I yelped a little. I thought about backing out and claiming I didn’t want to participate, but my pride wouldn’t allow it. Not to mention that even through the sting, I was enjoying myself. He smacked me good a few more times and before I knew it I was squirming like crazy. Jamie was liar! Zach did spank hard, especially for a fifteen year old! Not to mention I was in a thin pair of pjs and he showed me absolutely no mercy.
I was a little relieved, a little sad, when Jamie announced it’d been two minutes. I sprang up and rubbed my bum. It smarted like crazy! Jamie stood and inserted his tokens and then dragged me over to put in my own tokens. I gave a pathetic look, still rubbing my bottom.
“Awww, you’re too adorable. We’ll go easy on you,” Jamie said.
Yeah right, I thought and began the next game. Needless to say, Jamie kicked my ass and then spanked me — which on top of my previous spanking, hurt so good. By the time he finished with me, I was thankful to have a break and winced when I sat back down on the floor.
We continued like that until we all ran out of money. Of course, technically that couldn’t happen since Zach’s dad could find some tokens for us… but we really didn’t want to stay there all night and we were getting tired and sore (in more than one place..).
“You guys want to come by my room and watch a movie or just hang out?” Jamie asked. “It’s only 2:30 and I’d love the company.”
“That’d be awesome, as soon as I leave my mom a note and get something from my room.”
“Yeah and I should talk to my dad.”
We walked with Zach to speak with his father and introduced ourselves. His dad was pretty cool… a lot like Zach in different ways. I idly wondered if he spanked like Zach… or spanked Zach, for that matter.
Then we took the elevator to my floor and they chatted while I wrote my mom a note (as if she’d be back before me anyway). Before I left, however, I dug through my duffle bag and stuffed my pipe and some weed in the pocket of my pj pants. I somehow managed to do that without them seeing.
We arrived to Jamie’s room and joked around for a while until I said, “we should go outside and smoke.”
At the same time Jamie said, “this is a smoking room” and Zach said “but you don’t smoke.”
I blinked. “Then, um, I’m going out on the balcony.”
I watched them exchange glances before I turned around and took the pipe out of my pocket.
“What the hell…” Jamie said.
“Mia… you smoke weed?”
“Like hell she does!” Jamie exclaimed then ran towards me, blocking my way outside.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“You’re not smoking that shit,” he told me.
I blinked. “Excuse me?” I said and folded my arms. He didn’t budge. “Fine, I can just light it up in here…”
Without warning, Zach snatched it from me.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I growled, but I really wasn’t that angry. Actually, I thought it was kind of cool they were being so protective. As an only child, I wasn’t offered that much of the time.
“Flushing this shit down the toilet,” Zach said. His face was all serious now — no jokes.
“Don’t do that..”
“Mia, you don’t need marijuana. It’s more trouble than it’s worth… trust me, I know,” Jamie said.
I turned to him and back to Zach who still had my weed. “I won’t smoke it now,” I pleaded.
“Maybe a spanking will change her mind,” Zach said over my shoulder to Jamie.
“Now wait a sec…” I began, feeling that nervousness again inside of me.
“Maybe it will,” Jamie observed and walked past me, grabbing my wrist in the process and leading me over to the bed.
“No no no…” I begged. “It’s okay… really, I won’t smoke it now.”
“You’re right you won’t. Not now, or ever, when I get finished with you.”
I gulped audibly.
He tossed me over his knee. “Jamie… please… I’m not going to do it!” I begged.
He ignored me and slapped my backside rhythmetically, starting out mild but getting firmer by the second.
“Jamie!” I howled. This hurt so much more than the playful “loser” spankings we’d given each other earlier. Of course, my ass still hurt from those anyway, so that probably contributed to the pain. “Please stop.”
I’d begun kicking by this time and holding my face in my hands bceause I didn’t want to cry out too loudly. Jamie sure knew how to spank! I wondered if he’d had tons of practice or what. It was killing me.
After spanking for what felt like hours, he finally stopped. “Looks like a pants-down spanking is what you’re in for,” Jamie told me.
I squealed and squirmed when he grabbed the waistband of my pj pants. “Nooooo… you can’t do that!” I objected.
He slapped a sitspot forcefully. “Stop squirming!” he ordered, then slipped my pants down to my knees, taking my panties with them. I shivered and squirmed some more, reaching my hands back to protect my backside from assault.
“Move your hands,” he said, and when I shook my head, he moved them for me and delivered a sharp smack. I squealed like never before and continued to wiggle, trying to free my hands from his tight grip. In fact, I wiggled so much he actually stopped for a moment to reposition me. “Zach, you can have your turn,” he said.
“No no no!” I begged. “No more! I’ve had enough! You can throw it away!”
Like always, they ignored me. Jamie helped me over Zach’s lap. The only problem was that Zach was probably less experienced so when I began squirming, I was all ove rthe place. Jamie warned me to be still… more than once. Finally fed up, Zach stopped. “I have a better idea,” he said. I felt myself being lifted and practically thrown on the bed (on my stomach of course). Zach proceeded to sit on my lower back, legs on either side of me like I was a horse or something. The sad thing is, I was actually really enjoying this. I can’t help that I reached back after that… and then wouldn’t move my hands. “Will you hold those for me?” Zach asked Jamie, referring to my hands.
Jamie grabbed both of my wrists and held them tightly in front of me. Zach spanked as hard as he could and I was so restrained I couldn’t move. The control was out of my hands — I couldn’t get out of it. These boys meant business. And that’s when I began to cry. I cried because I couldn’t make them stop. I cried because I barely knew them and they still cared enough about me to try and prevent me from doing something illegal and unsafe. I cried and cried and cried until Zach was next to me instead of on top and Jamie’s arm was thrown around me. Someone was rubbing my backside and it was so soothing. We lay there forever, my pants on the floor but my panties up. I was startled when there was an angry knock on the door. I rushed to claim my pants and Jamie opened the door. My mom was standing there, hands on hips.
“Let’s go,” she said angrily.
I didn’t have the chance to try and get their numbers because she was dragging me away, muttering obscenities. “The nerve!” she was saying. “How dare you spend the night with two boys you don’t even know!” and went on to accuse me of everything from sex to drugs. I just ignored her, remembering the night. She made me pack up my stuff when we got back to the room and we left right away.
Needless to say, I didn’t see the casino much after that. I usually found her complimentary hotel rooms in the trashcan. We never spoke of it after that morning — she’d asked and I’d told the truth: no sex, no drugs, only watching tv. I doubt she believed me, but it didn’t matter.
I thought about that night almost everyday. Of course I never saw Jamie or Zach again, even though I tried a couple of times. I always wondered how it would have turned out if we’d exchanged numbers. Would I have adopted an older and younger brother? Would we go to the arcade every weekend and play? Would I eventually beat both of them? Would I be spanked all the time?
The cool thing is, I never smoked again.