Author's Note:
Some of you know me as Alexofthegarden. While the Alex in these stories isn't a true reader insert, but an original character of her own, I wanted to keep these stories written with the help and inspiration of my betas, ToscaRosetti, Edge_of_Clairvoyance, and CrazedPanda, separate. I hope you enjoy.
"Alex? Alex!"
Sam's looming voice reached my ears and it was like the rest of the world came back into focus. "Shit!" I yelled, forgetting that Dean was right next to me.
"Better watch that mouth," he warned, but there was amusement behind his eyes. "Sounds like Sam's not too happy with you."
"No," I said nervously, dread starting to build in my stomach. "I was supposed to...I mean...I gotta go!"
I pushed Dean's toolbox over to him and ran out of the garage where I'd been helping him with Baby. I'd only meant to be there a few minutes, but now I realized exactly how much time had passed.
About two hours too many.
I ran straight to the library and nearly slammed right into Sam as he was yelling my name one last time. I'd meant to reach the books, to make it look like I'd been doing the work I was charged with, but his face said he knew I hadn't.
"Do you want to explain this to me?" Sam asked, folding his arms across his chest.
"I...uh…"
"Why don't you start with where you've been instead of where you were supposed to be."
That was easy. "I'd been researching for about an hour but my eyes started to cross, so I took a walk around the bunker. I found Dean working on Baby, and I only meant to stay a few minutes but he asked for my help and we started talking and…"
"So you chose to help him when you were supposed to be helping me. On something that was very important."
Sam's voice was rising. I knew it was because I had let him down. Betrayed him. Tears started to pool in my eyes.
"I'm sorry, Sam, I really am."
"I'm very disappointed in you, Alex. I thought I could trust you."
I hung my head, the tears starting to fall. I was disappointed in me too.
Sam placed a hand on my shoulder, gripping it lightly. "I want you to think about that while you stand in the corner."
I managed to hold back the groan in my head and walked over to the corner and turned around.
"Hands behind your back, folded above your waist, Alex. And don't forget this is corner time, not nap time. I don't want to see your forehead on the wall."
The only good thing about standing in the corner was that I could roll my eyes without him seeing. The rest was horrible. Thinking about how he was watching me. Thinking about how much I'd disappointed him. How I'd shown him I couldn't be trusted. I needed to figure out a way to earn that trust back.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it seemed like I was a terrible judge of that these days anyway. Finally, when I could barely stand still anymore, Sam called me over.
"Alex. You may turn around and come over here."
"Yes, sir," I muttered and turned. I prayed I'd find Sam leaning against the chair or the bookshelf, arms folded. But my worst fears had come true. He was sitting in the armless chair and pointing right in front of him.
The thing was, he knew how much I hated going over his knee. Either of their knees really. It just felt so humiliating. But there was nothing I could really do about that other than obey or run. And I was pretty sure there was no way I could run without Sam catching me and punishing me a hundred times worse.
So I walked over and stood in front of him, eye to eye, since he was as tall sitting down as I was standing up. I tried to look down at the floor but he lifted my chin. "What did you think about while you were in the corner?"
I quickly ran through all the thoughts that had raced through my head. "I just...I want you to be able to trust me again."
"Well, right now, I can't," he said, and as if to prove a point, he reached over to undo my pants himself. I squeezed my eyes shut as heat flushed my cheeks, but he didn't stop, just pulled them slowly down to the floor then linked his fingers in my underwear and pulled them down as well. "Over my knee now, Alex."
I did what he said, if only to hide from him the tears that were already starting to run down my face. But then I realized tears and my nose running were really not good things while I was hanging helplessly upside down and I quickly wiped them away.
"Okay, Alex. You are going to be still, and silent, and take this punishment like a good girl. Can I trust you to do that?"
Trust me. Is this how I gained it back? If it was, I would do anything he asked. "Yes, sir," I answered.
"Good."
I felt him push my shirt up onto my back and the cold air on my bare backside sent another wave of shame through my whole body. But that was quickly forgotten with the first smack of his hand.
I almost cried out, I almost flinched away, but then I remembered what he was trusting me to do and I held my breath. He spanked me again and again; on each of my cheeks, moving methodically across, then down. His hand fell like a ten pound weight and my butt was starting to burn like fire. He tilted me forward and peppered my sit spots with smacks, first one, then the other, then back again, over and over. I was so close to yelling out, begging for him to stop, when he thankfully did so on his own. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was short-lived.
"Up," he said and he guided me carefully to my feet. But I could tell just by the look in his eye that we weren't done yet. "Back to the corner."
I didn't know if I was still supposed to be silent so I said nothing, just dragged my feet to the corner and stood there, hands by my side.
"Lift that shirt up, Alex. Hands behind your back, hold it up above your backside, you know better than that."
Sadly I did, this wasn't my first rodeo, and Sam knew that of all of it, this may have been the worst part. I reached down and pulled the back of my shirt up, folding my hands at my waist like before, but this time with the shirt safely tucked behind them. I closed my eyes. Maybe if I couldn't see anyone, then no one else could see me with my bare, red bottom on full display.
"Please don't let anyone see, please don't let anyone see," I muttered to myself, hoping that Sam wouldn't notice.
He must have been too busy doing whatever he was doing because I heard some banging around and then I heard his voice. "Alright, come on back."
I turned around and this time the chair he'd used to spank me was put away and instead there was just the black leather arm chair. A small paddle of dark wood lay on the seat.
"Sam, please," I started, tears falling, but I knew it was futile.
"You know what to do," he said and unfortunately, I did. I walked over to the chair and leaned over, gripping both arms.
Looking down I saw him take the paddle and felt him lift my shirt. He let his hand linger on my back. "Young lady, you need to learn to stay focused and handle your responsibilities. So I'm not counting this paddling. It will be your responsibility to count and if you lose your focus, we start over."
I wanted to scream and cry and tell him no, but managed somehow to just sniff and say, "How...how many?"
"I think ten will get my point across."
I thought one would get his point across but I didn't tell him that. I just hoped it didn't hurt so badly that I forgot to count.
Suddenly, there was a cool wood pressed against my ass and Sam gently circled the paddle on my already heated skin. It felt good against my spanked bottom for one second, then it disappeared before it came crashing down on my right cheek.
"Ahh!" I yelled from the pain before I remembered the job I was given. "One."
Next Sam struck my left cheek and the sharp sting reignited the burn that the paddle had just cooled. I winced and sucked in a breath. "Two."
The paddle moved back to the right, lower this time, closer to my most sensitive skin and it took everything just to stay in place. "Three," I got out without crying.
Sam mirrored his last paddling on the left side and this time I was ready for it. "Four."
I wasn't ready for the next one, though. He struck low, between my sit spots, and it felt like a swarm of bees stinging. I squeezed at the leather in my hand and waited for the next blow. But it didn't come.
"It seems you've lost count, Alex." Sam's voice was thick with disappointment. "We will have to start again."
"Nooo, please!" I was already in so much pain and I just wanted this to be over. I turned to him, tears running down my face. "Five, it was five! I got it all right up 'til now!"
Sam didn't yell. He gathered me up in his arms and kissed the top of my head. "Sometimes it doesn't matter how much of the work you've already gotten done. If you lose your focus and forget to finish, it doesn't mean much, does it?"
I shook my head, defeated. Why did Sam have to be so damn smart and rational? "No, sir."
"So we start over. Try again, so you learn to focus and finish what you started. Ready?"
No, I wasn't ready at all, but I had to do this right for Sam, so I just nodded, turned back around, and bent back over the chair.
This time I counted every smack, even when Sam seemed to assault my sit spots with blistering strikes. I was determined, though. I wouldn't mess up again. I needed him to be able to trust me.
"Nine," I squeezed out between my clenched teeth when the paddle landed on my left thigh. The last one set fire to my right. "Ten," I gasped and though I knew it should be over I didn't breathe until I heard Sam put the paddle down on the table and felt his hands on my shoulders. Then, finally, I stood up and he gathered me in his arms and held me while I let out every tear I had left inside.
When I was done, he sat in the chair and pulled me between his giant legs. "You took that well, Alex. I'm proud of you. And I hope you learn from it."
"I will." I was determined. "I promise."
"Good. Now I left that book out on the table for you. You can get dressed and then I expect you to go back out there, sit down, and finish what you started. If you lose focus, you let the pain in your backside remind you of how important it is to stay on task. Got it?"
"Yes, sir, I got it." He gave me one last squeeze and a kiss on the cheek before sending me off.
I pulled my clothes back on and the fabric of my jeans trapped the heat of my spanking inside. It scraped my skin as I carefully walked back to the table and the book and the hard wooden chair. I didn't want to sit. But I wanted to let down Sam even less. So I gingerly lowered myself into the seat, my raw bottom screaming at me to get up. But I didn't. I couldn't. No matter what, I was going to show Sam that he could trust me.
