Looking For Trouble: M/F

[Bullseye]

Looking For Trouble

"Can I go to the park?"
He looked up from his paper.
She stood with arms crossed. Her asking to go out was a victory for him.
"You in a hurry, Alexis? What's up?"
Outside was a warm Saturday afternoon. She had no other obligations.
"Colin wants to meet. I'll just walk."
It had not taken long since her moving in for it to happen. The young man did some work for Jon, helping take care of the property.
"What are you two planning?"
"Nothing. Just talking and stuff."
"What stuff?"
"You know....just hanging out."
"Hanging out and doing what?"

The two locked eyes. Alex's arms remained crossed, now in a defiant stance. "I don't know what. Whatever. We're not gonna do anything wrong."
"Watch the attitude, young lady, or you'll be staying home all weekend. Is that clear?"
"There's nothing wrong with my attitude."

He let a few moments pass, punctuated by several impartial ticks of the clock over the stove.
"Do we need to have a little discussion, young lady?"
"No." She studied the tile floor at her feet.
"That area around the park is a little rough. I want to know you're going to stay where it's safe."
She sighed.
"...and not get involved with anyone you don't know or who Colin doesn't know."
"I think I'm old enough to go to the park without you getting bent."
"You're not as old as you think."
If looks could kill.
"I want to trust you, Alex. I just need to know you're going to be safe."
"I can go then?" She smiled ...an artful smile, one he found hard to resist.
"Not dressed like that."
The park was up an alley, around a corner, and down a stretch of La Cienega Boulevard.
"Why not?"
"Put on decent pants ...and you'll need shoes." He was putting up with the goth look she had on, the lip ring, and the shirt proclaiming, "I'm Trouble." The shorts about to slide off her narrow hips were asking for more trouble than she wanted.
"Can't I just go like this? What's the big ass deal?"
He gave her a look that should have softened her expression. "No, you can't. Pants and shoes, period. There's broken glass." He didn't say it, but he was thinking it would be better that she could run fast if she had to.
"Okay, whatever."
"Whatever?" She was being sassy that day, and he didn't like it one bit. Jon had established the rules on day one.
"Sorry. I'll change if you really think it's necessary."
She was adorable, and yet his patience with her was wearing thin.

*

Alexis was to be back by four. He had some business to catch up on, but was keeping an eye on the time displayed by his computer. She had called on her cell at three as arranged. Everything had sounded fine, and he needed to concentrate on the work staring back at him. He knew he was being over-protective, but she was going to have to earn his trust before he even thought about loosening the reins.

Checking the time, he looked forward to her walking through the door safe and sound within the next half-hour. After years of running wild, Alex had already, in a mere matter of weeks, become more reliable. She had learned that there are rules in the Michaels house, and that they will be enforced. When he set a time for something, it was most important for her to keep an eye on the clock. There would be no more staying out til all hours and in places she should not be. That issue had to be addressed the first week she had come to stay with him, when Alex was given special time that day to think about the importance of rules in the house she now called her home. That is not to say it had been easy. In fact, Alexis Ann Grace was the most difficult responsibility he had ever taken on in his life. They were a generation apart, and Jon often felt lost in her world, but he liked the young woman from the first time he saw her profile on a special-interest web site he had been checking. He liked that she played bass in a metal group. He liked how she wanted to grab at life for fun and adventure. He liked how she was so different than boring old Jon Michaels.

Much to his pleasure and relief, he heard the front door open. She was early, and he got up from his desk to greet the young stranger who had so rapidly become a fixture in his life. He was taking her out to dinner that evening and, having gotten to know the area a little better, she could take her turn to choose the restaurant. As he approached the entry, he quickened his step. Something was terribly wrong. His heart pumping, he tried to make sense of the sight of Alex seated with legs crossed and hunched over on the floor. She looked up with the eyes of a little girl.

"Look what I did." He saw she was holding her right foot in her hands---her bare foot. She had been trying to pick at something, probably glass, and he had called it all right. Jon Michaels, Psychic or Something. The realization was a huge relief. It certainly could have been much, much worse. He knelt down, inserted his arms under her knees and scooped her up like a toddler. Trudging through the house, carrying her to the master bath, he was headed to the first-aid kit and enough room to work.

There was a sink with a long counter top, and he set her on it so that her seat was on the counter, and her feet were in the sink. He rolled her pants legs up and out of the way and started to run the warm water. At least she had changed out of those shorts and into don't-mess-with-me black jeans held up by a wide studded belt with chain. Neither had said a word since he had picked her up.

"Let's get the glass out first."
"It stings."
"Yes, I'm sure it does. Daddy'll fix it."

With tweezers he managed to get the glass out. There wasn't much blood, but he needed to make sure it didn't get infected. With a wash rag he carefully cleaned with warm, soapy water.

"Where were you? It looks like you walked five miles in your bare feet."
"Just the park," she explained in her best deadpan voice. "We shot a basketball. The glass was in the alley."
"You left here without shoes?"
"Uh huh."

He felt the mother hen, scrubbing until her soles were pink. The cut did not look serious---far less serious than what he was thinking about her behavior.

"This is going to sting a little," he warned her before applying the antiseptic. Holding her slender ankle firmly, he quickly brushed on the liquid bandage and the day's first crisis was over. He stood over her with arms crossed, waiting to see what she had to say for herself.

"Okay, say it. I told you so." She made a face.
"I'm not getting the least bit of pleasure in that. Do I look happy to you?"
"You're mad?"
"I'm very disappointed in you right now."
"Geez. Lemme guess. I'm in trouble?" She didn't sound as worried as she might.
"What do you think?"
She shrugged narrow shoulders, perhaps believing she looked unmoved, but Jon could see her wheels spinning.
"We're going to have to have a little discussion in your room, young lady."
"Shit." Alex was still seated on the sink counter, and with eyes grown bigger. He helped her down. "Excuse me. I could not have heard you correctly."
"Shizz...," her look suggested he didn't know shizz. "It's just a way of saying something's cool."
"Do you think this is a good time to be clever?"
"NO... Gee!" she exclaimed. "I can't say anything!"
"So you're cool with going to your room to be punished?"
"No," she glared, her cheeks glowing more peaches than the cream.

Her attitude was no surprise to Jon. Alexis was a self-proclaimed brat. Her online profile had made that perfectly clear to anyone daring to think they might handle her. He knew she might just walk right over anyone who allowed it. Her irreverence was a guarantee to exceed the bounds of traditional propriety. She would resist all conventions of traditional femininity. The risks she was willing to take would be his new ulcer. So he had to wonder what would happen when she is confronted by a traditional authority figure deciding a certain young lady needs to be handled and for her own good? That young lady needs discipline, but how does one even imagine for this young woman such bygone concepts as spanking, corner time, or mouth soaping?

Taking her by the hand, they made the long sober walk from the bathroom. He ushered her along, her feet heavier as they approached her bedroom. He let go of her hand and grasped her upper arm to keep her moving forward. "Okay, okay, let go, I'm going!"

He lead Alex to sit on the edge of her bed and pulled up a chair to face her. "You know what you have coming, don't you, young lady?"
She was wearing the glum look, perhaps designed to make him feel sorry for her. "Why?"
"You have to ask?"
"I've learned my lesson. Look, my foot got punished for it."
"This is far more serious than your foot, and you know it."
"I don't want a..." She could not say the word.
"I know you don't. Believe me, you don't."
"I'd rather be grounded," she stated, as if she could choose her own punishment. He felt she was sucking him into a little game. This time he wasn't finding it adorable.
"You may be grounded, as well."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry..."
"I'm sorry, too... Daddy's going to have to get the paddle."
"NO! I don't want it. It's not FAIR!"

He did not like to frighten her. He held over Alex a genuine power, and it was a beautiful irony. Traditional punishments for little girls, the kind associated with strict domestic caretakers, were just the right dose of medicine for a tough adult brat. As difficult as it was to imagine that these two very different planets could come together, their collision was creating a better new life. The paddle, the time-out chair, the bar of soap... in Jon and Alex's house they had become powerful tools for at least temporarily managing attitude and behavior.

"I don't think you understand the gravity of what you've done."
"Gravity? Isn't that just a bit heavy?" Her anxiety had turned abruptly to a sullen disposition.
"That best not be a joke. Why am I going to have to punish you?"
"Because I didn't wear shoes like you told me?" she studied her toes. "I had to go and step on that stinking glass. It's not fair."
"I told you, young lady, this is not about your foot. What are the three watch-words we talked about?"
She looked up to give him a blank stare.
"I sincerely hope you haven't forgotten......Well?"
"I can't believe this... okay, I know, gimme a sec..." She tilted her head to appear as if thinking.
"You think this is funny."
"Respect?
"You're not sure?"
"Yeah, respect."
"And....," he waited, in a mix of notions, considering potions, for spoiled brats.
"Um... okay... responsibility... and... uh...wait, it's coming to me..."
"Yes..." he prodded. "What's the third?"
"I forget."
"Alexis!" He was really losing patience with her.
"Obedience?" She made a face he didn't care for.
"Yes...and maybe we should add reverence to the list, as well. I don't think you're taking this seriously."
"Sorry."
She was in a lot of trouble, and he was finding it difficult to understand why she didn't appear to believe it.
"Leaving here barefoot, after I explicitly told you to wear shoes? What would you call that?"
She shrugged.
"Answer me this instant." There was nothing to mistake in his tone.
"Disob-bedience." Her eyes got larger. Her mouth dropped in a frown.
"Yes, willful disobedience. Why did I ask you to wear shoes?"
"So I w-wouldn't get hurt...b-but I'm old enough... I should be able to w-wear what I want."
"I wasn't making you do something just for the fun of it. You don't know this area well enough yet. When I tell you something, it's to protect you. This time it was just a little glass in your foot. What might it be next time you disobey me, when I know you could be in danger?"
"I'll listen next time."
"I have to be able to trust you, and you weren't trustworthy today." He hated to see the look of pain on her face, but they had to face the truth. "You were irresponsible, and you were disrespectful when you made a promise and then walked right out the door without keeping it."
"I forgot."
"No, you did not forget, young lady. Don't you dare lie to me."
"I'm really sorry. I really, really mean it."
"Looking cute and saying you're sorry isn't going to cut it today. You're going to need a paddling."
"No, please!"
"Yes. Take those jeans off and go to your corner. While I'm getting the paddle, I want you to think about why I'm so disappointed in you today."

*

Jon Michaels sat brooding at his desk. Was he being unreasonable? He did not like the way the day was going so far. Alex, for her troubles, had a naturally playful spirit, but something was different. It was as if she had arisen that morning and decided she might be tired of their arrangement...like maybe she needed some space. He knew that she missed her old life, and that they needed to work quickly towards her being able to return to a safer, saner indulgence in the things she loved most. Until then he had vowed to put his foot down to make her even more certain of the boundaries. She was acting out today because structure needed to be imposed.

He opened the desk drawer where he kept the small paddle. Removing it he was immediately aware of the hard quality of its smooth surface. He could not help but think about Alexis waiting in her room, the girl who had been allowed too much freedom growing up and was now facing consequences she had always avoided. He slapped his palm feeling the sting of thin hard wood designed for little girls when they've been bad.

Alex had the good sense to be standing at attention with her nose in the corner. He entered the room with a purpose, noting her modern cut of dark hair had been pulled back out of her eyes and tied back in a short ponytail. She had exchanged her tough-girl black ensemble for simple pajamas only making him more aware of her innocent vulnerabilities. He sat at the corner of her bed, little wood paddle in hand.

"Get over here, young lady. Right now."

She turned, started to approach him slowly and with a performance of expressions on her face, then stopped. "What if I don't want to?"
"Do not test me, Alexis Ann."
"You can't make me. I'll call child services."
He managed not to laugh. "Would you like to role play? We'll just pretend that you're a rebellious, irresponsible teenager, and you can call the authorities after you've had your spanking." He patted his thigh with the paddle. "Over my knee." She remained undecided, but he was in no mood for stalling. Putting the implement down on the bed, he reached, grabbed her by her right arm with his left hand, and with his right arm as fulcrum, he had her in the air flying to land upended in position across his lap before she had a chance to complain. He pulled her far enough forward so that he was in control, and she was comfortable and secure. Comfort would be temporary.

"Did you think about why I'm so disappointed in you today?"
"No." She had put her hands behind her head, her body language a surrender.

Jon Michaels had had quite enough. Despite her body stiff across his lap, he proceeded, the hard of his right hand delivering a brisk two spanks to each round cheek ill-protected by a thin layer of cotton. Alexis gasped at each contact, the sounds forced from her throat suggesting surprise at how brightly he had made his message sting.

"Today is going to be a spanking to remember, young lady."

Using his hand as a precision instrument, he continued to punish the upturned seat of her pajama pants, his intention to build beneath the cotton a scolding flush of warmth as prelude to the paddle. He stopped when his palm and fingers felt hot.

"Isn't that enough?" She had turned her ice blue eyes to him as a challenge.
He was taken aback by her attitude. "I've only begun."
"Fuck, it really hurt!"
"You are really asking for it today, aren't you. Well, you're going to get more than you bargained for."
"NO!"
"Where do you think you're going?"
There was a struggle between two---Alex, a resilient young woman proving more formidable than the little girl getting a spanking---Jon, with the advantage of being much bigger and stronger. They almost ended up on the floor. He was surprised that she was putting up this level of resistance, but before she could dislodge herself completely, he managed to get hold of her wrists and secure her arms behind her back, apparently taking the fight right out of her. They had worked their way over towards the other side of the bed, and she was now tipped head down over the edge further restricting her leverage. Inserting his fingers into the waistband of her pajama bottoms, he yanked them right down to her knees. She cursed again and kicked as he reached for the paddle, this time welcoming the feeling of its harsh potential in his hand.

"I am going to straighten you out today, little one."

For real discipline, he always punished bare. The thin pajama pants would have offered scant protection, but he needed to see what he was doing, and if this was more embarrassing for Alex, if she was feeling more ashamed of how she had behaved that day, then all the better for the message to be conveyed.

Across the bottom of her bottom, the skin was still bright pink where he had spanked moderately with the hard palm of his hand. He was sorry that the relatively light shade was merely a prep coat, the paddle now to be applied to paint a far more striking color. He brought the flat of the wood down sharply onto the exposed right cheek, then left, crack smack, and listened to a tough girl holler. There was about to be several minutes of hollering in Alex's room that day. He spanked, smack, snap, crack, and pop, back-and-forth with a supple wrist, just a Daddy administering a lesson, building two matching blazes where they were going to do a defiant brat the most good.

It is a fact that little girls do not react with dignity to paddlings, and it was no less true for this girl who played bass in a metal band, this girl who was a fighter, this girl who was trouble. She was a singer this afternoon. Her guilty feet kicked as if pleading with vigor for mercy---they had gotten her in trouble that day, and now were protesting with an angry drumming of toes on the mattress of her bed---and yet Jon was not to be dissuaded. From over the edge, please and sorry could be discerned amidst the less intelligible outrage. Hearing her pleas went straight to his heart, a heart forcing him to continue. He steeled himself and paddled her where it was safe, lower where she was naturally cushioned for sitting. "Am I making myself clear, young lady?" The paddle spoke sharply. "That I will not tolerate the way you've behaved today?" He punctuated his query with wood. "That you should be ashamed of yourself for the way you've treated me and the trust we're supposed to have for each other?"

By the time he had finished, Alexis Ann Grace was crying -- not a few tears forced from her eyes, but a flood. From her throat, no mere moan or bashful whine, but something rough, dredged from deeper down where pain had lived long before the spanking. With his hand gentle on the back of her neck, he let her expel the bitter from her system.

Alex sobbed, and Jon sat with his own feelings about what had just happened. The evidence was right there in his lap, imprinted with a red that seemed to glow from within, shining a light of furious accusation aimed right at the one who had raised it. He pulled her bottoms back up. It did nothing to shield him. He knew only what was right.

When Alex was ready to get up, he helped and sat her on his lap where she squirmed to find comfort. Folded in his shirt pocket, he had tissue prepared, and drying her face, he looked into the resolution set in blue eyes. The calm after the squall. The flood had carried off the dross and left them clear and bright with promise. A shy smile bent her lip and he pulled her face to his chest, hugging her close. "I love you, Princess." "I love you, Daddy." They sat like that for awhile, as the day could not get much finer.

[dd4me]

I liked it..nice work.