The Guardianship
Part Five
by Jack Lennox* * * * * * *
5
"I want to say how sorry I am. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. It wasn't your fault ...it was totally my fault."
She stood sheepishly in the doorway to his office, eyes downcast, hugging herself to keep from shaking. She had rehearsed the words but wasn't sure they had come out exactly as planned. Her insides were churning ...a spin cycle at the laundromat.
Dan was at his desk, turned left to face her. There was a new sadness in his eyes; she thought she would have rather it been anger.
"Under the circumstances, I think the reaction was understandable. I'm just glad you are back and that you're okay."
"I'm not sure I'm so okay," she confided in a voice that was barely audible. He didn't comment, leaving a few moments of awkward silence.
"You didn't even go into work today, did you?"
Nina answered with the single word of truth, a reluctant admission. Her tone, however, indicated that she was prepared to profess all sins.
"I am disappointed in you, Nina. I imagine you are disappointed in yourself."
She managed to lift her gaze to meet his, bit her lip, and nodded in the affirmative. She felt a tingling that ran through her entire body. As a teenager, she had entertained a schoolgirl fantasy that involved her being sent to the principal's office. The imagined scenario seemed particularly perverse at the time -- the very last thing she would have wanted was such a reckoning. It occurred to her that it might have felt something like this.
"I'm sorry to have barged in like that, but I can assure you it was a shock to find you home today. They were able to get to the car sooner than expected." In spite of her high anxiety, she wanted to know how her scheme had backfired. "I called you at work around one, figured you were out to lunch. Henry gave me a lift to the shop around three; I thought I'd come straight home and call you at work." So simple.
"I'm sorry." It was all she had to offer, and it came delivered with her very smallest voice.
"I couldn't understand why your car was here...considering you were going to pick me up on your way home."
Nina's face felt warm. She hadn't acted like a responsible adult that day.
"I've tried to give you the opportunity to make some adult decisions this week, and all you have managed to do is defy my efforts." Nina detected a new tone of seriousness in his voice; its timbre quickened a pulse that was already too fast. She held her breath. "We have an agreement and both have responsibilities to it. You understand that I am going to have to discipline you?"
It felt as if her knees would buckle, and she reached for the doorframe to steady herself.
"I'm not going to let you down," he assured her. "I'm certainly not going to give up on you."
"I know...I'm sorry," her voice cracked with emotion as she let out the air she had been holding. "I've learned my lesson."
Her last words hung in the air as if posing for their consideration. Nina wondered if he believed her, then wondered if she believed herself. She realized the words sounded hollow, but under the circumstances, worth the try.
"I think that lesson still needs to be taught ...and in a way so that it won't be forgotten."
She was frozen. She was dizzy. She had known, yet had not known.
"Did you get something to eat while you were out?"
What? The question momentarily confused her. "Uh, yes... just a muffin." She thought she could taste it.
"I don't expect you have much of an appetite, so we'll eat late tonight. I want you to get cleaned up, change your clothes. You know the room next to mine?"
"Yes." She was floating.
"When you're done, go to that room and wait for me."
She couldn't move. Her eyes watered. She tried to fill her lungs with air but it wouldn't go down. She gasped. Only after several moments was she able to emit the two small words of acquiescence. "Yes, Sir."
She turned on liquid legs and went to prepare for her nightmare.
* * * * * * *
When she got to her room she took off her jeans and realized that she was wet. She felt as if her body must be acting independent of her mind. Stripping everything off quickly, she sat on the edge of her bed to get her thoughts together. She felt she needed to confront what was ahead of her, try to somehow ease the way, but it seemed there was a door between her and her future. It was closed; behind it was something to be feared. Eventually, it occurred to her that she had better get ready.
She stood under the shower, scrubbing at herself haphazardly. She was on auto-pilot, disconnected, a character in her own dream in a room she had never seen. Fantasies converged ...conspired ...aroused; the past, present, and future swirled around her, hit her in warm waves, ran down her body leaving shivers in their wake. A spanking of a little girl over her daddy's knee ...a rebellious teenager confronted by unbending authority ...a starving soul with a desperate hunger. The breathtaking realization was that it was no longer a dream. She was on a string, floating, about to be reeled in. Feeling light-headed, Nina stood in front of her dresser and tried to organize her thoughts so that she could decide what to wear. She trembled, felt a tingling that seemed to travel to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her body, a delicate web of raw nerve endings, seemed to demand a sensual expression. She went with a pair of scanty white cotton shorts and a tiny pink tube top. It was a spare covering, though in her breathless state no amount of exposure to her Guardian seemed too excessive. She stood examining herself in the mirror, her knees weak, wondering if he would approve. The suspense was killing her. As she left her room to meet her fate, she did not think to hesitate.
* * * * * * *
She was shocked by the austere simplicity. She had walked on air down the long hallway to stand in front of a closed door. She had turned the knob, wondering what to expect on the other side. She had peaked into the mystery room as if she were in a gothic novel, only to find the anti-climax that, nevertheless, gave her a fright. The room was bare ...well, almost. In the center of a smooth polished wooden floor sat a straight-backed armless chair. As she entered a shadowy space illuminated with but evening sunlight through a large shaded window, she saw that, on the seat of the chair rested the paddle. It seemed everything she needed to know about her universe at that moment had been placed before her, and if she had entertained any doubts about her impending punishment, she could now lay them to rest with complete assurance.
The starkness of the room only heightened her feeling of vulnerability. Nina felt as if her insides were being pulled in two directions by massive tides. She needed what was about to happen, but she did not want it to happen; she did not want it to happen, but neither did she want to wait. She wished to crawl inside of herself and make it all just a dream again. Alone with only her thoughts, she felt a little dizzy, but could do nothing but stand, bare soles on the cool hard floor and, without distraction, imagine the predicament that confronted her. Periodically shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she was moved by restlessness borne of both jangled nerves and the distracting tickle between her legs. She could have been standing there for five minutes, or thirty, she wasn't sure, but all of a sudden he was there and closing the door behind him. The indifferent room then enclosed their private drama - only Nina, her Guardian, and what he was about to do to her.
He was seated; she was standing before him unconsciously wringing her hands. She was vaguely relieved that she had remembered to go to the bathroom.
"Over my knee, young lady."
Just like that... they were words she had waited to hear, in a tone of voice that elicited from her a deep breath caught ragged in her throat. Acting impulsively, she untied the drawstring on her thin little shorts and looked at him expectantly. It needed to be like her daddy did it ...bad girls get it bare.
"Do you have anything on under there?"
She nodded. Only a thong.
He reached out with both hands and pulled the tight pants down quickly, her narrow hips offering little resistance. They fell to the floor; she stepped out them and pushed them away with the side of her foot. It was as close to naked as she had ever been in his presence, and his face was passive ...exposed for her punishment, not for his pleasure. She felt the sharp pang of embarrassment, and thought that if he were to take her panties down, as well, her humiliation would be just that much more acute. He would see that she was shaved; then she would soon feel her nakedness against the coarse material of his slacks. It would remain a silent wish as he reached out with his left hand, took hold of her left arm and with his right arm as pivot, pulled and flipped her effortlessly across his lap.
"Please, I'm sorry!" As she lay suspended, her bottom upended, she was frightened. She knew this was going to be the real deal, but did not know precisely how badly he was going to hurt her. It brought back the vivid memory of fear and helplessness but still, in her heart, she trusted. "I'm sorry, too, Princess." She did hear sorrow in his voice. "I don't want to have to do this, but you've been a bad girl, haven't you?"
She thought that she had been for too many years now and that a real spanking was long overdue. "I'll be good," Nina choked. She was already crying.
And then there was the fire...
* * * * * * *
Nina Andersson was preoccupied. A very sorry young lady stood before her strict disciplinarian with but a single concern. Unable to stand still, her knees flexed, and she walked in place as if the soles of her feet were being scorched by the cool hardwood floor beneath them. However, it was not her feet that were on fire. Despite her efforts, she could not walk away from the furious sting that seemed to adhere to the surface of her sitting area. The palms of her hands wished desperately to smother the flame, but held no secret balm that might slake the inferno that her Guardian had set to blazing on her tender bottom.
She continued to sob uncontrollably. Several moments passed before her world cooled to a point that Nina was not consumed by it. She realized that his fingers were around her slender upper arm, gently pulling her towards him. As she regained her focus, she saw a look of pain in his eyes that reflected her own. Emotionally, she had been taken to the brink and beyond. She allowed him to seat her on his lap, his legs spread so that her weight was not directly on the two small areas of her anatomy where the punishment had been focused. He had little to say - only how sorry he was. There seemed little he could do - just hold her, rock her, stroke her hair, kiss her forehead as she cried.
She was not comfortable. Her body seemed like a system on standby, a vessel that had been attacked. Where she had been hit, all hands had gathered to assess and repair the damage leaving the rest of the ship operational but with nobody at the controls. She knew the damage was significant, but she did not want to see it, did not want the information that would confirm there was a good reason why underneath her she was throbbing and burning. She was finally able to look at him, tell him that she was hurting. Her face was still wet, nose running, but her crying had quieted. He talked to her, made her cry some more with his gentle words. He comforted with his hands and with his eyes. She knew he cared about her, and that is what she clung to in his arms.
* * * * * * *
It was well after midnight. She lay face down on her bed wishing that she could fall asleep, but her mind refused to shut down for the night. The day had put her on a roller coaster of emotions like she had never been on in her life. In spite of the buzz of activity in her head, she felt an internal quiet. Some secret, restless entity trapped in the web of her psyche had been freed, at least momentarily. She did not completely understand the deeper longer term effect, but she did know that things were squared with Dan. All the recent issues -- the work performance, the failure to take account of his guidance, the lack of respect for his privacy, the willful disobedience -- all had been resolved in that short agonizing trip over his knee. In his arms, sensing his shared pain, knowing forgiveness, she had found some peace. They were back to their comfortable and respectful co-existence, and that was a relief to her, in and of itself.
For what seemed like the twentieth time that night, she reached back to touch her bottom to feel the discipline he had imprinted on her. She was tender but not overly uncomfortable. After the spanking, Dan had carried her to her room, put her in bed, and then went to prepare for them a late supper. She had stripped off her top and panties and lay back on her stomach with her mind occupied by two small torments exposed and demanding her attention. By then the burning had become what she thought of as a tingle. In the back of her mind, she was aware that she had experienced the cutaneous sensation before. She would describe the "tingle" as a very persistent-but-tolerable stinging on the surface of her skin surrounded by a very warm glow. It had prickled, giving her a humorous mental image of a Geiger counter and the avalanche of clicks produced by high radioactivity. It had not amused her, but rather had driven her crazy with desire. She was sure she would never be able to explain it, but it felt as if her sit-spots were wired to her core, and it was her clit that began to burn with the greater intensity. With a hand beneath her she had masturbated with an abandon like never before in her life, writhing on her bed as if she were still over her Guardian's knee but rather in ecstasy. It would be a maddening exercise she would perform several times that night. The memory of the spanking itself seemed to be slightly beyond her grasp, like a light too bright at which to stare. Once underway, she had forgotten about her desires--it did not matter that she was infatuated with her Guardian or that he was administering her long sought after disciplinary spanking. All the eroticism inherent in her fantasies evaporated and she no longer cared about her preference to have been totally naked and exposed over his knee. There were only those moments of pain where her sole wish was for it to be over. Like a trip to the doctor's office, the treatment had been provided, and she had left sore and numb where the doctor had performed his procedure. She did have a sense that, in some important way, she had been healed.
Still unable to sleep, she was warm, and her throat felt parched. Although the air conditioner had kept the temperature down, the humidity still held in some of the day's heat. Thinking about getting up for something to drink, she turned on her side, could make out her nightgown folded on the chair sitting in front of her computer. The moon was full that night and its ghostly light made its way into her room through a skylight, was reflected in the monitor's screen, and bounced off walls to roughly illuminate familiar shapes. She still found it strange and wonderful to be living in the house on Clairmont Avenue.
The house was really too big for one person, and he had offered her a room for free. Uncomfortable with the idea of that kind of an arrangement, she had insisted that she pay her way. They had agreed to a monthly payment that matched her then current apartment rent. She knew she could not otherwise afford anything that would be offered in The Highlands. She thought it the nicest place she had lived and felt more at home than she could remember. She finally decided to get out of bed. Slipping her gown over her head, she went to tend to her thirst.
The lights were on in the kitchen. She stood in the doorway transfixed, the soft electric hum of the refrigerator the only sound to muffle her beating heart. Dan was near the sink, his back to her. She admired his powerful tanned shoulders and the contours of his muscular back revealed under his tank top. He was wearing knit boxer briefs; she had always liked a guy with a great butt, and Dan never disappointed. She watched as he rose on toes to reach for something in the overhead cabinet and enjoyed the play of muscles in his thighs and calves.
He took a glass down from the shelf and without turning said, "Hello, Nina. It's a bit late for you to be up."
"Yes, Sir," she was both surprised and relieved that he was aware of her presence. She did not normally address him with the formal title, but she was feeling very submissive. She wished he would pick up on that. "I was a bit thirsty...I just wanted to get something to drink."
Dan filled his glass from a bottle on the counter and then turned. "There's lemonade in the fridge." He took a sip from his glass and then looked her in the eye from across the room. "Are you having trouble sleeping?"
"Yes, Sir ...I'm still pretty sore," she grimaced and rubbed that soreness through her silky nightgown, then blushed and averted her gaze. She found it momentarily difficult to maintain eye contact with the beautiful man who owned a most private chunk of her soul.
"You know I don't look for excuses to punish you. You really earned that sore bottom."
"Yes, Sir. I am so sorry for everything ...but I guess I wouldn't be living here if I wasn't such a total screw-up."
Dan put his glass down and came to her, put his hands on her shoulders. "Do you really believe that?"
She just looked at him with wide eyes - would not, perhaps could not, answer.
"The only problem you really need to overcome is your lack of confidence. That is the reason you are here. I'm not blinded by your past. I can see both your wonderful qualities and your potential, and I have confidence in you. I'm proud of what you've accomplished. The fact that you ask for a little help is not a weakness but a part of your strength. I want you to know how fortunate I feel to have this opportunity to help you, to in some small way take care of you."
She didn't know what to say, just nodded. He usually wasn't one for long speeches, but she appreciated his words. He certainly meant well. He gave her a smile, though, that made her believe things were okay. He kissed her on the forehead and bid her good night. She turned and watched as he headed down the hall to bed. She wanted to follow him, turn him around, bury her face in his chest. She would stand on her toes, kiss his mouth, whisper to him that he was all the man a woman could ever want. Instead, she poured herself some lemonade.
As she drank, her thoughts in a whirl, she realized that there was really so much about him she didn't know. For that matter, there was so much about herself that she didn't know. She was still floating, had not found solid ground. He was right that she needed to find fulfillment; she just wasn't sure it was a discovery she was meant to make.