Amber’s older brother offered to take her in rather than have her parents send her off to a boot camp. He gets more than he bargained for when one night she comes home late, driving her friend’s car, and not exactly sober. She soon learns that his way of handling things is a lot more painful than her parents’!
My brother offered to let me stay with him when my parents claimed they had enough and threatened to put me through a boot camp. Like one of those on the talk shows where these big scary guys yell at the kids and they’re all tough as nails in the beginning, but by the end they’re babies and do whatever it is anyone wants them to. So I said, fine, whatever. Send your problem-child fourteen year old daughter to boot camp. See if I care. So instead Phillip offered to let them have a break for a little while. I don’t know why.. it’s not like he could handle me any better than they.
Well, actually, I enjoyed being with Phillip because I really wasn’t that bad of a kid, just sometimes wanted to stay out a little late, and besides, my parents bugged me anyway. Who actually isn’t bothered by their parents when they’re fourteen? Living with my brother was like Heaven.
Most of the time.
The first time I screwed up was when Ashley asked me to go out to this party with her. No big deal. A few seniors from school wasnted to get wasted at this guy’s house because his parents were out of town for the weekend. I was down with that. Phillip was working til after midnight so he wouldn’t mind if I got home about the same time as he. It’d be no problem.
“So what are you doing tonight?” he asked me, buttoning up his work shirt.
I shrugged. “Meh, I don’t know. Might have a girl’s night with Ashley and friends. Who knows. Bowling, a pizza, maybe a chick-flick.”
He nodded. “Well, okay, that’s cool then. Just be home by one, okay?”
“Of course,” I answered. Okay, so maybe I told just a little white lie. The night would definitely not be a girl’s night… and no bowling or pizza or chick-flicks. But I was definitely going with Ashley. Does that count as some truth?
She picked me up that evening wearing a slutty halter top and some super-tight jeans. That’s Ashley for you. I, on the other hand, was in a baggy t-shirt and jeans. That’s me for you.
“Girl, you are so not wearing that to this party.”
“What?” I said. “It’s comfortable.”
She shook her head at me. “Whatever. You are so hott and your boobs are great. Why don’t you show them off?”
I digested that. “You know, I bet that’d piss my parents off even more…”
“We’re so going shopping!” she announced and sped towards the mall. Yes, I ended up using dear brother’s mastercard (that I’d conveniently found in the dryer when I was taking some pants out… he wouldn’t mind) to purchase a top that showed more skin than it covered and a cute blue jean skirt. It was all Ashley’s choosings, though. She wouldn’t even let me go into the stores I normall shop. Who cares? As long as I can show off my gorgeous figure and annoy the hell out of my parents (her words, of course).
We went to the party after that. I was doing okay, had vowed to myself not to drink anything that anyone gave me… unless it was a beer or something light that could help me maintain control. The music was loud and pulsating, all these guys kept commenting on my new attire. I was offered a couple of beers, which was really gross but who can turn down a free beer? And then I was dancing with some guys and just hanging out.
After an hour or two of that, I decided that I’d decline all other drinks… unless it was a margarita or some sort of frozen girly drink, which I was offered a few minutes after I’d made that pact with myself. By then the room was beginning to feel hot and I could tell Ashley was drunk. So I couldn’t get drunk, because I’d need to drive later. Unless it was a mixed drink. Those won’t get you too drunk.
In case you haven’t noticed, by the end of the night, I was taking straight shots. I kept promising myself not to do these various things, but I’m horrible at keeping promises. Besides, it’s not a big deal, so long as someone could walk straight enough to drive us home.
That someone just happened to be me, a couple of hours later when we stumbled down the front stairs.
“Ashley, how the hell are we going to get home?”
“Let’s just walk in a straight line and see whose is straighter.”
“How are we going to know whose is straighter?” I questioned but she was already walking down that straight line, that looked more curvy than anything else.
“Your turn!” she yelped.
I took a deep breath in, contained my giggles, and managed to walk a somewhat straighter path than she.
“There we go. You drive.”
I started to mention that I didn’t have a license, but at that moment, I realized that if Ashley attempted to drive, we’d end up in the ditch. “Okay, but sober up on the way to my house, because you still have to drive home.”
I grabbed the keys and braced myself for the drive. “Focus, just focus,” I muttered to myself on the way to the car. We both hopped in and I jammed the keys in the ignition. Ashley was being all crazy and ditzy and babbling about something, but I kept telling myself to focus. How the hell was she going to drive home? Maybe Phillip would be cool if she just crashed at our place for the night…
I pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex and immediately noticed that Phillip was standing outside on the phone and smoking a cigarette. When he took a glance at me, he hastily said something to the person on the other line then hung it up, rushing towards me.
“Shit,” I said, looking at the clock that read 3:51am. “I’m fucking late..”
I pushed open the door where Phillip was standing outside, arms flailing. “Where the hell have you been, Amber? It’s nearly…” he paused to sniff the air and I noticed my mouth had been hanging open trying to make my excuse, so I closed it in hopes that he hadn’t smelt anything. Too late. “Have you been drinking and why the hell are you driving Ashley’s car?”
“I haven’t been drinking,” I slurred, “but Ashley has, so I figured…”
He was shaking his head, and took this time to interrupt me. “Don’t you EVER lie to me, Young Lady. Get in that house right now,” he ordered, pointing towards the door.
If I’d had more alcohol in my system, I’d probably have been defiant. But I didn’t have it in me. It was late and my brother was truly pissed, and I could actually understand why. Fourteen years old, drinking, driving, no license. Damn. Besides, I was too tired to argue my case. It hadn’t been too long since Phillip was a teenager, so hopefully he knew better than my parents why I did what I did. It’s just a teenager thing. Right?
“But what about Ashley?” I asked.
“I’ll deal with her. You go inside and to bed.”
I didn’t like this who demanding older brother thing. He was usually super nice and funny and I dunno… everyone just adored Phillip because he’s that type of person. Seeing him pissed off was not fun.
I stumbled inside, holding onto the walls to guide me to my room. Hell… I was a lot more drunk than I’d imagined. I could barely walk straight and I was all of a sudden finding it harder to see. I kept pep-talking myself. Just a few more feet to my room, a couple of more steps to the bed… then I changed into my pjs, plopped down and closed my eyes, finding the world spinning around me. Is this really how fast the world is spinning? I was starting to feel sick. I opened my eyes, adjusting them to look at one point on the wall, then closed them slowly, finding everything spinning again. I began to whine because I hate the feeling of having everything moving and me not moving with it.
I don’t know how I finally managed to get to sleep, but the next morning I woke up with this tremendous headache and my stomach was killing me. I blinked, trying to recall the night before. The fact that I got drunk was obvious, since I was so sick. Ech, and my brother was probably going to be pissed and I’d be yelled at forever. Not with this headache, though. So I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.
My attempts to sleep were unsuccessful when Phillip came barging in. “Amber, it’s after noon, so get up. I made lunch.”
I groaned but pushed myself out of bed anyway. “I don’t think I’m hungry,” I groaned.
“I’d say not from as hungover as you probably are. But get up anyway.”
I nodded and rolled out of bed, following him to the dining area where we sat down across from each other. I noticed that he probably hadn’t expected me to eat anyway, judging from the fact that he’d only made two Hot Pockets, and that’s definitely not enough to feed us both.
“What happened with Ashley?” I asked, taking a sip of water.
“She crashed on the couch then went home this morning.”
The room was quiet for a minute.
“So yeah… I guess you’re pretty pissed at me..” I began, hating the silence that engulfed us at this moment.
“Oh, I’d say I’m a little more than pissed.”
I cringed. “Can I at least explain myself?”
“You can try,” he said, taking a bite of his food, then adding, “but I doubt it’ll help.”
“I just got a little stupid last night and Ashley wasn’t in any condition to drive.”
“And you were?”
“Well what else was I going to do? Just stay at the party all night?”
“You’d stayed there long enough… You were supposed to be home at what time? One o’clock. What time did you get here? Four. I think that one o’clock is a pretty lenient curfew for a fourteen year old, but I can guarantee it that you’ll be getting home much earlier than that from now on, if I even let you out..”
“Wait a second… that’s not fair..” I began.
He raised his hand to cut me off. “You can tell me what’s not fair when you pace around this living room for three hours waiting for your younger sister to come home, not knowing if she’s been in a wreck or what, calling everyone around that you know, and she won’t answer her damn cell phone. And then when she finally gets there, she’s driving a car, no license, and drunk off her ass. You go through that then tell me what’s fair.”
I blinked. Totally wasn’t expecting that.
“You aren’t even old enough to drive, much less drink, Amber. Are you trying to get yourself killed? Trying to get arrested? Because that’s a damn good way to accomplish it.”
He pushed his plate away from him, now too aggravated to even eat.
“And what was this outfit you were wearing last night and where’d you find the money to buy it?” he asked.
Yikes. I’d almost forgotten about that. “Uhm, well… I sorta got it for the party… and sorta borrowed the money.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Sorta borrowed money? Elaborate.”
“Erm… I found your credit card and sorta used it,” I mumbled, turning away and covering my mouth slightly like maybe that’d help me get in less trouble.
He leaned in closer to me. “Used my credit card?” he asked.
I nodded slightly.
He shook his head at me and stood up, then grabbed my upper arm, then dragged me towards the couch.
“Wait… what are you doing?”
“This conversation is over. You’re getting a spanking.”
“A what?!” That was the most surprised look I’d given all day.
“You heard me.” He sat on the couch then pulled me towards him.
“Wait wait wait… you can’t do that…”
“I can, and I am.” He gave me a rough tug and my struggles were futile. Before I knew it I was over his lap, facing the carpet.
“Wait, Phillip. Please. Let’s be rational, please? I’m fourteen. That’s too old to be spanked…”
“I’m through being rational with you, Amber. I give you some leeway, you take it for all it’s worth. How can I trust you to stay out late if you come in like you did last night? And if your parents aren’t going to put a stop to it, I am.”
“Please Phillip. Don’t spank me. I mean, you can’t..”
“Watch me, Little Sister,” he said, then tugged my pj pants and panties all the way down to my knees.
I began to squirm, blushing profusely with embarrassment. “I’ll be good, I’ll be good…” I promised.
“I’m sure you will, especially after I get finished with you.”
“No no, please don’t do this..” Wow, I felt soooo young and vulnerable in that position.
He ignored the rest of my pleas and began whacking my exposed bottom with an open palm. I yelped from the beginning, squirming more and still begging. That must have been one amusing sight. Fourteen years old and finally getting taught a lesson. I’m sure so many guys would’ve liked to see that.
And damn, Phillip spanked me hard. Looking at him, you wouldn’t think he’d have it in him. He’s not too tall, maybe about 5’9 or so, only a few inches taller than me. He’s not all big and muscular either. But he sure can spank. Before no time I was howling in pain and promising to do anything if he’d just stop. And that didn’t work.
“I’m so so so sorry!!” I bawled.
“I’m sure you are. And I’m sure you wouldn’t be if you were still in bed sleeping right now.”
“I would be, I really would!” I promised, reaching back to block the smacks.
“Move your hand, Amber Michelle.”
“But it hurts!” I wailed.
He slapped my thigh really hard. “I *said* ‘Move your hands.'”
I yelped and moved it away. “Pleaseeeee Phillip. Please please please no more.”
“I’m far from being finished,” he assured me. He didn’t care that it was the first spanking I’d gotten in the last ten years… the first bare-bottom spanking ever… he was definitely going to make sure I didn’t forget it.
He continued spanking, using his left hand to keep me from reaching back while he pounded away with his right. He sometimes even smacked my sit spots and thighs. I was so relieved when he stopped that I nearly rolled off of his lap.
“Oh, we’re not finished,” he told me.
He lifted me up and brought me to the edge of the couch. “HEY! Move your hands away..”
I noticed that I’d been rubbing my bottom to get the sting out, but I quickly stopped so I wouldn’t get spanked too much more.
“Over,” he ordered, pointing to the couch.
“OVER, and don’t make me repeat myself.”
I whined, but leaned over the edge of the couch anyway, burying my face in my hands and letting the tears collect. I listened as he unbuckled his belt and the leather slid through the loops. I cried harder. I’d never been spanked with a belt before… but living in the south, it’s not like I’d never known anyone who was. And I’d never heard anything appealing about being spanked with it… it was definitely not the position I wanted to be in at this moment, leaned over the sofa, bottom exposed, already in pain from the hangover and now in pain from the spanking. No no… I definitely didn’t want to be spanked with the belt.
But, obviously, the punishment was working because I didn’t move, didn’t object, just whined. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that I deserved this. That didn’t really help the situation… didn’t help that I was in a shitload of pain… didn’t help that I was about to receive more of my punishment. It just helped me learn how to accept it, sorta. Though I would have gladly not taken it.
“Amber, there’s a few reasons you’re getting this spanking, care to name them?” he asked, lashing me across the sitspots with the belt.
“Ooowwwwww, because I drank and drove and came home past curfew and used your credit card.”
He whapped me again. “Sounds about right,” he answered, slapping me again. “I want you to listen to me, okay?”
“Okayyyy,” I whined, crying into my hands.
He cracked the belt down again then began speaking. “I care about you and your well-being,” he told me, punctuating that statement with a hard smack from the belt. “I understand what being a teenager is about. I can deal with the drinking, okay? But if you’re going to drink, you need to be responsible, and no driving or getting in the car with a drunk driver, understand?” he asked. Cue that smack.
“Yessss, I understand.”
“I don’t appreciate you stealing money from me, nor do I like that you drove Ashley’s car, much less while you were drunk.” He delivered another blow.
“I knowwwwwww, I’m sorry.”
“And I will not tolerate you coming home so late in the night, okay?”
He stopped talking for a few minutes and held me down while delivering a final flurry of smacks to my bottom with the belt. Some of them caught me on the sit spots, only a couple on the thighs. I was howling in pain, though, and crying like you wouldn’t believe. Crying so hard that I could barely breathe, and in so much pain that I almost didn’t realize he’d finished. I only knew because he started rubbing my back and helped me up out of my position in order to hug me. I felt like I was in one of those movies, or something, where they said “this hurts me more than it hurts you” and how you never believe them. That’s how I felt. But I guess there’s always that feeling at the end where you know that they didn’t want to beat the hell out of you, they just did it for the fact that they figure if they didn’t you’d probably end up doing something stupid again. Which is probably true. Although I wasn’t an angel after Phillip spanked me, I can honestly say that I learned my lesson. And it was probably mostly because he talked to me afterwards (while I sat down on a very very hard chair), but the spanking sure did get my attention. So I realized the reason that he was so upset, which I could’ve realized anyway, but he did something my parents never did. He was rational, even though I’d first claimed he wasn’t. He gave me chances, let me make mistakes, and helped me learn from them… even if helping was through a spanking. At least I learned.