My hands covered my face as tears spilled from my eyes, relieved that he stopped spanking but ashamed at the confession I'd made. He asked more questions, but I was sobbing too hard to hear him properly. Emotions overwhelmed me.
He let me lie there for a few seconds, waiting for my tears to subside a bit before continuing. "You're going to get ready for bed while I make dinner, then we'll take care of your punishment."
"But..."
"No buts, kiddo. You've earned this one and you know it." He paused to see if I'd argue, and I wanted to, wondering how Violet would respond. But before I could come up with anything, Izaak continued. "You put yourself in multiple dangerous situations — that guy had a gun, Chloe. A gun. The area you were in is known for its gang presence."
"How was I supposed to know that? Why are you acting so much like a dad right now? I'm not a kid."
He started raining down a few more swats to my bare bottom and I squealed, regretting my words. "Again you need me to remind you of our arrangement? I've taken over the role of care giver since you've not been doing a great job at it yourself. We still have nearly three weeks left of this."
My legs kicked as I tried to squirm so that he'd stop hitting so hard, but it was useless, so I just resigned to crying again. Nothing was working!
"You are a smart young lady, I'm sure you could have figured out that the neighborhood wasn't safe. You also had the choice of using drugs and illegally gambling, and didn't make the wisest decision there either."
"Izaak, stoppppp," I begged, reaching a hand back to block.
He quit spanking me for a moment. "As I said this morning, you're going to get the spanking of your life tonight, kiddo. Now, get ready for bed." He patted my throbbing backside and I rolled off his lap.
I dried my eyes as I walked to my half of the living room, pushing the privacy screens away to squeeze inside. Sounds of dishes clanging in the kitchen distracted me as I searched for pajamas, opting for blue cookie monster and a matching tank top in hopes that it'd help him feel a little sorry for me. Though I knew it wouldn't.
I took a peek in the mirror at my butt — it was glowing crimson, very well-spanked. All the way from the tops of my cheeks to the bottom of my sit spots. Ouch. And it'd been only the beginning!
As Izaak busied himself in the kitchen, I stayed hidden in my room, trying not to think about my upcoming punishment. **some foreshadowing here, checking email or something**
"Are you ready?" Izaak called from the kitchen.
His booming voice startled me, snapping me back to reality. "Yeah, coming!"
It was an awkward meal, neither of us talking much. I tried to keep a conversation going, but his answered were short, perturbed. His brows stayed furrowed as he jammed salad into his mouth, focused more on eating than me. It hurt. But I pushed away those feelings as I tried to remember the fun from the night before. How great of a rush I'd gotten from stealing. How much I missed my old life. With Izaak's current disappointment, going back to Michigan seemed like a great idea.
After dinner I cleaned up the kitchen, taking as much time as possible cleaning off the marble counters, washing the glasses and plates with care. Izaak cleared his throat at some point, reminding me to hurry.
When I came back to the living room, he was seated on the couch, wooden hairbrush resting on the arm of the sofa. Next to it was a wooden paddle with holes. I stopped when I saw it, hand over my mouth. "Don't do this please..." I begged. "I learned my lesson earlier." I reached back to rub my still sore bottom.
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