Previous: Chapter 12 – Violet’s Job Offer
Updated 11.1.2020. If you would like a soundtrack to go along with this, check out my playlist on Spotify or YouTube. This chapter’s songs: “Demons and Angels.” “Forget Me Not,” “Swimming Pools,” “Fly on the Wall,” and “Lion.”
~Two Months Ago~
“What happened at court? Are you okay?” My voice faltered despite best efforts to remain calm, the palpitations in my chest making it hard to breathe. I’d avoided thoughts about my online friend’s sentencing trial all morning, but now that we were on the phone, my anxiety refused to contain itself.
“Everything’s fine. They gave me house arrest, but no technology… would you believe I’m on an actual landline?? So hipster.” Sage’s laugh gifted me the comfort I needed to breathe a sigh of relief. “But anyway, my autism and gender fluidity did me good for once… they were afraid of mixing me with ‘normal’ criminals. So here I am. Dunno how I’ll deal without internet, though… arts and crafts?”
“You being crafty… that’s hilarious.” I had to smile, noticing the first ounce of optimism since my granny died and Sage was arrested. Two unrelated situations that occurred simultaneously. Probably both also could’ve been avoided if I was a better person. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
I lit a cigarette and my body softened as smoke blew from my lips. Sage described the trial and my eyes drifted around the living room of Granny’s dilapidated home. Photos of her estranged children and grandkids adorned the walls. Underneath was a puke green sofa that’d been there since my dad and I moved in at the turn of the millennium, a few months after my mom left. Next to it sat an ancient wooden coffee table, countless rings blended together from the cups of visitors throughout the years. On the other side stood an out-of-tune piano I’d cherished in childhood, and above was the beady-eyed rodent who’d commandeered the attic, head sticking out of the hole-y ceiling. Taking another drag off my cigarette, I kept focused on the creature and tried not to panic as I forced my attention back to my friend.
“Okay, Chloe… my turn to be the older sibling you never had. Get the fuck out of Michigan. Start over, make a new life. You don’t need anything bad to happen… you know?”
“Yeah, I understand. It’s just so much work and money, and we spent everything on your legal counsel and Granny’s memorial…” A knot formed in the back of my throat and my lip quivered at the memories of the last few weeks.
“Call Izaak, he’ll help.”
The thought of my best friend’s bearded, grinning face gave me a teary-eyed smile. We hadn’t talked in years, since our college graduation when the FBI recruited him to work in New York City. Izaak was the sole trustworthy figure remaining in my life, and I was confident he’d care for me, even after not communicating in so long. But I was nervous. One reason we hadn’t spoken was the shame of my recent behavior. I’d adopted most of my bad habits for survival, but still. Izaak’s strong moral code and career in law enforcement had the potential to get us both in serious trouble. “I dunno… I’m not sure that’s a good idea…”
“You’ve been thinking about it for months. It’s the right thing.” My hesitation in responding prompted Sage to continue efforts to sway me. “Don’t dig yourself any deeper… it won’t be as easy for you with your dad’s history…”
“It’ll be fine. I can be convincingly innocent when I want.” I didn’t admit that her words were also thoughts that’d been pestering me.
A second mouse head poked through the ceiling hole, staring at me in doubt. My stomach rolled, and I felt dizzy all of a sudden, heart racing in near-panic. The walls pulsated as if they were closing in. I couldn’t spend another minute in that house.
“Sleep on it. The solution will appear in your dreams, like always.”
“Thanks, friend. For everything…”
“You’re welcome.” Before she could say more, I heard yelling in the background and Sage shouted back, groaning to me that she needed to go. “We’ll chat soon. Call Izaak.”
Guilt rippled through my body as I snapped the phone shut and tossed it to the coffee table. It’s my fault she was arrested.
Glancing at the mouse, I asked aloud, “Should I live with Izaak?” The pink nose twitched at me as she stared, judging me for my fuck-up. “He said I could stay whenever and even offered for me to join him after he moved. But maybe he was just saying it to be nice.”
The yucky feeling lingered with me for a minute, but then I knocked myself back to reality. Izaak wasn’t the type to offer if he didn’t mean it. Besides Sage, he was the most genuine person I’d ever met, which is refreshing in this world of imposters.
Not having my best friend to talk to anymore would be lonely. Daily video calls had become routine over the last few years, until the arrest, and since then emptiness spread through me. I realized it most while I sat staring at the abandoned hole in the ceiling, listening to the mice patter back and forth before they came to stare at me again.
“The problem is that Izaak’s a hardass, and I’m not used to that. Other guys are so easy to manipulate. They spank and I cry and it’s over.” I took a puff of my cigarette and squirmed in my seat. “But not him. That sonofabitch knows if I’m faking.”
Then, for some reason, an urge to meet with a strict spanker brushed over me. It can cleanse my guilt before calling Izaak.
Finishing my smoke, I snatched up my laptop, logging into my favorite fetish site. Luckily, a favor I’d provided to an amateur photographer had given lots of sexy images to share, which attracted plenty of followers. I scrolled through my friends list to figure out who’d be appropriate for the task, but it was hard to decipher.
So I posted a ‘status’: I got my friend in trouble and need a discrete, onetime punishment to help me feel better. Msg me if interested.
Waiting for responses was too nerve racking, so I opted to distract myself with getting ready, starting with a shower. I squeezed a grape-sized amount of pink bodywash onto the loofah, smearing it over my torso. Then I lathered peach-scented shampoo into my hair, topping it off with a smooth conditioner and rinsing again with cold water. After shaving from head to toe, I stepped out, dried off, and began my skincare routine. Before picking a clothing style, though, I needed to decide who I was up against.
Logging back into my page, I noticed that my inbox was littered with messages from disgusting men who’d clearly not read my ad. Only a handful seemed legit. Normally, Sage’s hacking skills would give me additional info about a guy before we met, just to make sure he’s not a serial killer or anything (though can you really ever know?). But with the house arrest and technology ban, it wouldn’t happen this time. My only option was to guess.
After searching through a few different profiles, I voted for someone called LieutenantPayne: Hello little one, I’m in town overnight for business and am willing to provide you with punishment for your misdeeds. If you are serious about meeting and would like to receive a proper spanking, message me with your phone number. I will be at the Hillcrest Hotel tonight.
His avatar was a dark silhouette of a man in a suit and tie, holding a paddle. There weren’t many other images, only a few animations depicting daddy/daughter scenes. He claimed to be a married 43-year-old professional, not into pursuing an actual relationship, only seeking one-night stands. Very much into realistic domestic punishments. Besides the age difference, he had an eerie resemblance to Izaak.
This could be the perfect finale to my crime life: Meet with a stranger, let him spank the guilt out of me, take advantage of his hospitality, sleep in a fancy hotel, dream about my decision, and just do it.
It was late in the afternoon when I arrived at the modern black and gold lobby. The cool air conditioning helped ease my nerves a bit as I watched for Lt. Payne. I was grossly underdressed in my ripped jeans and childish Cookie Monster T-shirt (with matching panties) but my intuition figured he’d enjoy my childish attire.
As I waited, my eyes peered around the room, checking out the emergency exits. It’s become habit to map out potential escape routes when my mind drifts into the dark abyss of worst-case scenarios. At least if I’m prepared, whatever happens, I’ll be able to handle it. One of Izaak’s teachings.
“Pattie?” came the gruff voice from behind.
I spun around to see an enormous, well-built gentleman standing in a black suit with a royal blue tie. His presence radiated authority, so much that his freshly shaven face and sharp cheekbones seemed familiar. It was easy to slip into a state of submissiveness, as I suspected he’d provide a thorough scolding. “Hello, Sir.” My voice came out meek and I blushed slightly as I gave a shy smile.
“You and I need to have a long talk, Young Lady.” His brows furrowed, and he reached for my upper arm, nudging me forward to walk with him. It seemed natural, as if I was his actual daughter about to be in big trouble.
“Please let go… you’re embarrassing me,” I whined in my best preteen voice. Glancing around, I noticed that nobody was actually watching us, though the vibe felt off, almost like they avoided staring.
“Not as embarrassed as you’ll be when I put you over my knee.”
Gasping, I playfully pulled away, but he tugged me back towards him. We’d reached the elevator by this time and he pushed me inside, never breaking the strict-dad character. My eyes rolled in classic pre-teen fashion and I glanced at my reflection, noticing the resemblance between Lt. Payne and me: same facial structure, nose, and forehead lines. He was naturally domineering, which was impossible for me to pull off, but my ‘little’ side thought it’d be entertaining to attempt imitating his stern expression.
He realized what I was doing before I could straighten my face and landed a mild swat on my bottom. “Do you think this is funny?”
I bit my lower lip and shook my head, feigning innocence.
“You have a lot of explaining to do, Young Lady, and I expect a full confession.” My stomach started twisting into knots and I realized an abnormal tension in my shoulders. Was it the mice from earlier, pre-punishment jitters, or my gut trying to tell me something?
To distract myself, I tried lightening the mood with humor. “You look like you spank super hard.” I reached up to poke his biceps and yup, solid as a rock. What am I getting myself into?
He smiled. “I do.” The elevator made a DING, and the doors slid open. The hand on my shoulder pushed me forward.
My eyes darted around the hallway of the 15th floor as I followed Lt. Payne. The building was shaped like an H, with the elevators in the middle line. The two hallways on either side had three sets of stairs each, one adjacent to Lt. Payne’s room.
“After you,” he said with a smile, ushering me inside.
A leather scent filled the air as we entered the lounge area of his luxurious suite. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed off the Detroit skyline. Black modern furniture was scattered around, and a big screen tv hung on the wall. A sliding door blocked the bedroom and bathroom, so I couldn’t scope out potential plunder.
Lt. Payne put the key in his suit pocket, taking the jacket off to hang it in the closet. “Have a seat, Young Lady, and start explaining yourself.” I watched as he unbuttoned the right sleeve of his white shirt, rolling it up to his elbow and showing off a well-toned forearm. His eyebrows raised when he started on the left side, prompting me to get talking.
“What’s there to explain? My friend was punished, and it’s all my fault.” I poked out my lower lip in a pout and plopped down on the leather sofa, big blue eyes gazing up at him, tearing up. The usual way to gain pity.
“How did you get her in trouble?” His fingers moved to loosen his tie, and I couldn’t avert my gaze from his enormous hands. An image crossed my mind of how heavy they’d fall against my unprotected backside. Maybe I should run while I still can…
“Some internet stuff… Nothing major.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing major,” he said, stepping forward and folding his arms. His broad, muscular stature made me cower in intimidation, looking away. “Did you do something illegal?”
The uneasy sensation in my stomach became stronger. Izaak’s face flashed into my mind and the disappointment he’d express if he learned what I’d done. “We played a prank on people and they didn’t appreciate it.”
“Mmm… I sense that you’re not entirely remorseful yet. But I know a simple fix. Stand up.”
“Up!” he thundered.
I jumped out of my seat without another protest and followed him to the armless slipper chair stowed away in the corner. He sat at the very edge and helped me over his lap, starting over my jeans. “Ohhhh, please don’t, Sir! It hurts!” The spanking stung more than I’d imagined, and he wasn’t even using full force.
“Good. It’s supposed to hurt, Young Lady. This is what happens to naughty little girls who break the law.”
More swats rained down on my backside and I clenched onto his calf to prevent myself from reaching back. “Please nooooo, I’ll be a good girl…”
“I know you will, especially after I get through with you today.” The stingy smacks came down even harder, and I yelped after each one, unashamed at my low pain tolerance.
He kept spanking me for another couple of minutes, ignoring my pathetic whimpers, then lifted me to my feet. I reached to rub the sting out of my bottom, but he had other ideas and grasped the button of my jeans. “Oh noooo, don’t take those down!” I moved to stop him and he smacked me on the thigh.
“Hands out of the way, Young Lady.” Without waiting for my argument, he took my wrists in his left hand while he eased the button loose and yanked my pants to my knees. He tossed me back over his lap.
“You should’ve thought about this before getting your friend in trouble.”
“But…” before I got my words out, he greeted me with a flurry of hearty swats to my panty-clad bottom. “Oowwww, it hurtsssss…”
“You will not break laws, and I need more information about your crime because it’s hard to scold about something unknown.”
In between my shrieks of pain, I had to laugh because he had a point. And while it wasn’t advisable to give Lt. Payne many details, psychological punishment tactics would help with self-forgiveness. To truly be absolved of the guilt, I’d need to disclose more specifics of my misconduct.
“So? What is it? Tell me the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” He alternated between each cheek, following a definite rhythm which made it easy to predict and prepare for the swats. But then he started spanking harder and on my sit spots, where my panties didn’t quite cover.
“I tricked this guy into giving us money, and my friend took the blame for it,” I blurted out.
“Conned someone and let your buddy take the fall? That’s not very nice!” He tugged my panties up so they wedged between my cheeks, then slapped my butt in the center, hard and fast, where I’d notice the pain while sitting the next couple of hours.
“Owwwwww!! I knowwwwww it’s notttt but… I’m sorry!”
“Not as sorry as you’re going to be, Young Lady.” He increased the speed and intensity, forcing my panties higher so the discomfort wasn’t just from the spanking. “And what punishment did your friend receive?”
The fierce swats mixed with the nagging pinch in my gut made tears spew out. “I’m sorryyyyy… I c-can’t take anymoreeeee!” I covered my face with my free hand, sobbing hard. “Please stopppp…!”
He paused to ask again: “What happened to your friend?”
Catching my breath, I babbled the first answer that came to mind. “She…. Got spanked and a mouth soaping.”
“Is that all?” Lt. Payne asked as he went back to smacking my reddened bum, now focused only on my sit spots. “A mouth soaping, huh? You will receive the same, followed by a dose of the belt, and ending with you writing a detailed apology to the victim.”
“Noooo, none of that!” I pleaded.
A call prompted him to finish up the hand spanking, and he lifted me. “Remove your pants and panties, and stick your nose in the corner while I get the soap ready.” Then he swiped at his phone, answering with a simple, “Yeah?”
I rubbed my warm bum, then kicked my jeans off while he listened to whoever was on the other line.
“Well, if that’s the way you think it happened, investigate it.” He covered the mouthpiece and mouthed “it’s my wife” and held up a finger asking me to wait a minute. Then he walked towards the bedroom, opening the door and revealing his private domain long enough to pique my curiosity again. What does he have in there??
Instead of taking my blue Cookie Monster panties off, I un-wedged them from between my butt cheeks and listened to Lt. Payne’s deep voice booming through the walls, seemingly walking to the bathroom as I’d hoped. Looking around the room, I glimpsed at his jacket. I imagined Lt. Payne as the type to carry cash and a handful of credit cards in his wallet. His wife would be pissed if I spent money in the right places using his card.
I hesitated to ensure he was still on the phone, then approached the jacket. Digging through the outer pockets yielded nothing valuable, so I reached for the inner slot and there it was — rectangular and flawless brown leather.
But when I opened it, my heart stopped. It wasn’t a wallet… it was an FBI badge. Lt. Payne is a fed!? What the hell have I gotten myself into?!
“I hope you’re ready for a good mouth soaping,” Lt. Payne’s voice echoed through the hallway, signaling that he was on his way back to the lounge area.
I dropped the badge and bolted out the front door, forgetting momentarily about pants and my red ass. After running down a flight of stairs, I swiped a key card from the housekeeping cart, then broke into an empty room with guest belongings. I snagged a fresh pair of jeans almost exactly my size, a cap, and sunglasses (couldn’t risk being seen!).
In my disguise, I took the elevator and was all the way outside when I realized that I’d left my phone with Lt. Payne. And shit, no Sage to help me make it self-destruct. My passcode and extra security would prevent the average person from learning any info about me, but if he was FBI, did that mean they were looking for me? Or was it a coincidence? Regardless, I didn’t like leaving evidence anywhere.
Instead of returning home, I used a credit card I “found” to book my own hotel — a penthouse suite a few blocks away. If I aimed to quit the crime life, I should leave with a bang. So I charged room service with various treats before cutting up the card and flushing the pieces. I had to stop this. Sage was right that if I kept it up, I’d find myself in heaps of trouble. And not the butt-warming kind that Lt. Payne had provided. But legit trouble.
I stretched out for the hotel phone. Who remembers numbers anymore? I certainly didn’t. But Izaak’s hadn’t changed since we’d met, so the digits came out as if my fingers had them programmed. It only rang once before he answered. Tears brimmed my eyes at the sound of his kind, slightly accented voice. It took all of my energy to croak, “please come.”
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