About a week had passed, and it was Friday again, so I was feeling a bit better. My ribs still ached something awful and my face was all yellow and purple, but I felt better. I could walk on my own, although I had a pretty major limp. I was just glad Darry didn't have to carry me everywhere anymore.

Darry was still pretty worried about me, though, because I found myself bawling at least three times a day. And my nightmares were back heavy. I don't really know what was wrong with me; I was just upset at all times.

It's not like I didn't have reasons to be. I'd just been through a pretty traumatic experience, and I was in pain, and my big brother still wasn't talking to me. Worst of all, I was about to get my ass whipped by my other, stronger, big brother, which had me scared half to death. Life really sucked.

Darry was doing good with dealing with my moods, until I actually started being a dick to him. I didn't really mean to be, it was just frustrating when he didn't let me sleep all day and he made me eat when I just wanted to lay in bed.

I accidentally got a little too snippy with him when he was trying to make me eat, and he swatted me and sent me to my room.

Which is how I found myself sniffling and staring at my ceiling, bored as ever. I probably should have just ate, but he didn't have to pop me. It wasn't that big of a deal, and he definitely didn't have to send me to my room. He popped me in front of Soda and Dally, too! The bastard.

Dally didn't even react, he gets popped himself, so it's not like it was something new for him, but he was two! I was fifteen, for fuck's sake. Soda just gave me a look that obviously said he thought I deserved it, too. It sucked, because that's usually when he would defend me.

I scrubbed at my eyes with a sigh. I'd stopped crying, but I was still upset. The swat didn't hurt all that much, I was just upset that he smacked me in the first place. I was also hungry, which is another reason I probably should have just listened in the first place.

It wasn't my fault my appetite was pretty much nonexistent now. Darry didn't have to force feed me every day, anyway. I know he was just taking care of me, but I didn't always need taking care of.

My stomach growled. I hoped Darry would come get me soon. I knew better than to leave my room without permission after being sent there, but I was actually ready to just apologize and eat now, and I'd been in there for like half an hour.

"Darry!" I called, figuring I'd just take my chances. He usually didn't get mad at me for calling his name if I was in trouble, because it usually meant I was ready to apologize and behave, which I was.

Silence. Bastard.

"Daaaaaaar," I drug it out this time. If I was annoying enough he'd come. That's usually how it works.

I waited a couple of minutes. I was just about to yell again when Darry opened the door. Finally.

"Yes, Ponyboy?" He still didn't sound very happy with me. Great.

"I'm hungry."

He glared at me. "You're hungry." He repeated, clearly not amused.

"Yes, and I'm sorry, I guess." I replied. It took me a second to realize what I said. It was too late.

He came in and closed the door behind him, walking up to the bed with a pretty pissed off expression. "You guess?"

"No! I mean, I am! I'm sorry!" I said sitting up and back against the headboard so I was out of his reach. He was not swatting me again.

He stopped and closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was right when he said I made him do that a lot.

"I'm done with the attitude, Pony," He said in his fed-up voice. I didn't think I was being that bad, but apparently I was wrong.

I felt bad; I didn't like stressing Darry out. I've been trying to listen more after the accident and not make him do this, and I actually think I've been doing good. Until today, at least.

I nodded. "I'm sorry, Dar. Really."

He sighed. "Yeah, I know."

I frowned. He didn't believe me.

"You've been a brat today, Ponyboy." He said, sitting down on the bed. "If you're hungry then why did you just throw that fit instead of just eating?"

"It wasn't a fit!" I practically cried. It wasn't a fit! I got a little back talky and I swore a little but it wasn't a fit. As embarrassing as it is, both me and Darry know I've thrown actual 'fits' before. That was not a fit. "And I wasn't hungry then!"

"You better watch it, kid," He said, pointing at me. "You're already on very thin ice."

"Sorry," I muttered, looking down, "But I wasn't hungry earlier, and I'm sorry I was bein' disrespectful earlier. I was in a bad mood and I took it out on you. Sorry."

That was a full sincere apology. I didn't give a lot of those. Both of my brothers point out how often I say sorry. If I say sorry, I'm almost always sorry for something. It may not always be what I'm in trouble for, but I'm always sorry I get caught or that I stress my brothers out. I was actually sorry this time, though. Darry had been real patient with me and he didn't deserve for me to be a dick to him, which is exactly what I did.

Darry smiled a little. He could tell it was a sincere apology. "I forgive you, but it stops here, or else. You got that?"

I knew what or else meant. I wasn't going there with him. "Yes, Dar."

"Alright," he said, grabbing me by elbow to help me stand up. "I'll reheat your plate. And you ain't gettin' up until I think you've ate enough."

I sighed. "Yes, Darry."

He helped me hobble back into the kitchen and sat me down at the kitchen table. Sodapop and baby Dallas were coloring at the table, and by the looks of Dally's shirt he'd already ate.

Soda still wasn't talking to me a lot, but I could tell that he wasn't as pissed as he was. We could communicate when necessary, and he doesn't yell at me every time we speak. I think it's just more disappointment right now, and he's slowly getting over it. I was ecstatic. I was sure my big brother was gonna hate me forever.

The only bad thing about having to wait for my punishment was knowing that both of my brothers were mad at me. I hated the unresolved tension.

"You don't work today, Sodapop?" I asked him, reaching for my drink that I'd left there before I'd got into trouble.

He shook his head, not looking up from the house he was coloring in yellow. "Nah. Steve did, though. He's off in about a half hour, then we're meetin' up with Two Bit at the drive-in."

I nodded. It was a Friday night, so I figured that none of the gang would be in sight. Hell, if it was a regular week I definitely wouldn't be.

"Is Dal staying here?" I asked, watching the little boy scribble all over a piece of paper. Darry kept him on Friday's a lot. It's not like he had plans.

Soda shook his head. "Nah, Steve's mom's."

I nodded in response. That was about the same length all of our conversations had been.

I was a little concerned about having to be at home alone with Darry all night, especially since I was starting to feel better. He was gonna whip me soon, I already knew that much, and I also knew when he does it was going to be when we had the house to ourselves.

Part of me hoped he just did it while everybody was out. I was kind of ready to just get it over with, but I still wasn't 100%, so I doubt Darry would be willing. Unless I asked, at least, which I was strongly considering doing. I was sick of prolonging the inevitable.

Darry pulled me out of my head when he sat my plate in front of me. I muttered a thank you and picked up my fork. I'd thought myself out of being all that hungry, but I needed Darry back on my good side since I'd been a brat all day, especially if I was gonna get strapped when everybody left. So, as much as I didn't want to, I finished almost all of my plate. It was the most I'd eaten since I got jumped and I felt a little too full.

I was the only one in the kitchen by the time I finished eating. Dally and Darry had migrated to the living room, and Sodapop was getting ready to go out.

I called for Darry so he could see how much I ate. If I I got up without him doing so he was just gonna call me back in there anyway, it's easier to just save myself the time.

He walked in with Dally's empty sippy cup and tossed it in the sink. "Yes?"

I gestured at my plate, "I'm done."

I could tell by his face he didn't think I'd eat as much as I did, but like I said, I really needed him on my good side.

"Alright," He smiled at me and ruffled my hair. "You're free."

I didn't move, though. I watched his back for a moment as he scraped what was left on my plate into the trash.

I looked down and started picking at my shirt sleeve, deciding I might as well ask. "Are you gonna strap me tonight?" I asked quietly.

Darry turned around from the sink with furrowed eyebrows, "What?"

I sighed. Louder, I said, "Are you gonna strap me tonight?"

He stared at me for a second, frowning. I couldn't really look him in the eye for some reason. After a moment, he walked over to the kitchen table and pulled the chair across from mine out. "I wasn't really planning on it," Darry said, sitting down. He put his elbows up on table and leaned forward. "You're still pretty bruised up, especially your ribs. I figured it could wait another week."

I grimaced. Another week would be torture. The past week had been a hot enough hell; I didn't feel like going through a hotter one.

It's not that Darry was acting mad at me, but I still knew he was, and so was Soda. Although you couldn't tell by how often I misbehave, I hate it when my brothers are mad at me. It's probably why I'd been such a grump since I got jumped anyway.

Darry must have been able to tell by my face I didn't like that idea. "You don't wanna wait?"

I most definitely did not want to go over Darry's knee and get strapped again. The first time was hell. I don't think I've ever cried so hard. I didn't let Darry comfort me the first time, either. I definitely wasn't making that mistake again.

Although I hadn't been strapped since the first time, I'd gotten my fair share of swats and half-spankings, but nothing serious enough to warrant Darry whipping me. I really hoped I never did something that bad again, and yet there I was.

I shrugged, "Don't like knowing you're mad at me," I said quietly, still not looking at him. It was like he was staring into my head, and I felt really vulnerable. "Waiting just makes me feel worse."

Darry sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Is that why you've been actin' up these past couple of days?" He asked, resting his hands on his thighs.

I shrugged again, sighing. "Probably, I don't know," I answered quietly.

"I think you do," Darry said in his 'Dad' voice. Dad said that a lot when we said 'I don't know' to a question we definitely knew the answer to. I wonder if Darry even noticed he did it. "You talk to me about this next time, you got me?"

"You couldn't of whipped me when I was that hurt, Dar," I said, rolling my eyes. "You couldn't have really helped."

"We could have talked, at least," He stated, "That's much better than you bottlin' stuff up until you turn into a brat. That just makes me more upset with you, you know?"

My face fell even more. I'm infamously good at getting myself into more trouble when I'm already in trouble, also known as making my brother more even madder at me when he's already pissed off. "I know. I don't mean to."

Darry hated when I said that, but it was true. "I usually don't even realize I'm being a dick to you until you get mad at me for it, then it's too late."

Superman sighed, "I know, Ponyboy. 'Cause you're always quick to apologize when you get in trouble, and most of the time I know you're sorry. Just try heeding the many warnings I give you, which is way too many, by the way."

He wasn't wrong. When I'm being a brat, Darry does give me a lot of chances to stop before he finally reacts. He always says he wonders why isn't more strict with me. I do, too, because as much as I hate to say it, maybe if I'd gotten my ass beaten before now we wouldn't have to have the conversation. I had a strong feeling he was gonna start being a lot stricter after the incident, though. I'd already prepared myself to lose a whole lot of privileges.

I heard Steve's car pull up, pulling me out of my thoughts. I wasn't having any conversations involving my punishment with Steve in the immediate vicinity. No way.

"Why don't you go grab your shower?" Darry asked me, standing up. He worded it as a question but I could tell it was more of an order. I didn't really mind. I'd rather do it before I got my ass whooped.

I sighed and nodded, blinking hard a couple times. "Okay."

Darry pulled me up by my elbow and then I was on my feet. I walked past Soda to get to my room for a towel, and I could tell he knew something was wrong.

He was coming out of the bathroom and stopped in his tracks, furrowing his eyebrows. I probably looked like a wounded puppy or something, as upset and scared as I was. I couldn't stop wishing I'd never left the house that night. It never would have happened, and I wouldn't be all purple and yellow and asking to get my butt blistered.

I averted my gaze and kept my eyes down, not wanting to see the worry in his eyes. I knew he still wouldn't talk to me, so I could avoid it until he was.

I ducked into the room and grabbed my towel, a pair of boxers, some sweats, and a t-shirt so I could take the longest shower of my life. I kind of needed a good cry.

Soda stood in the doorway and watched me get my stuff together for a minute before he shook his head and walked into the living room to greet Steve. They were probably going to the Shepherds. It's where they usually went on Friday's.

It kind of got on my nerves, because Soda got so pissed off about me breaking a rule and putting myself in danger and yet he still goes to the one place Darry tells us not to go because it's dangerous. I get that he's eighteen and I'm fifteen, but it's still the same thing for the most part.

If I wasn't so desperate to have Soda back on my good side I probably would have snitched, but I told Soda I wouldn't tell Darry unless he asked. If Darry asked, I was gonna have to spill my guts, because if I lied to his face and got caught I'd be dead. Until then, I guess Soda would be free to do whatever. I just felt sorry for him when he got caught. When Darry caught him there on his 17th birthday, Superman was pissed. It's one of the few times I've seen him that mad at someone who wasn't me.

I did everything in slow motion once I'd made it the bathroom. Darry was gonna want to talk, and I really did not want to. So I stood under the water for a good ten minutes before I even made a move to do anything productive, and even when I did start washing my hair it was extremely slowly, and it wasn't until the water was getting cold that I actually washed myself.

I didn't cry like I thought I would. I just kind of let my brain rest while I stared at the shower wall. It was relaxing, and by the time I wrapped myself in my towel I somehow felt…better, calmer. Like somehow things were gonna be okay, even though I was probably about to get my butt blistered.

I finished drying off and threw on my clothes. My after shower routine just consisted of combing my hair and brushing my teeth, so I made quick work of it. I'd been in the bathroom for at least half an hour, so I was surprised Darry wasn't already banging on the door.

He was waiting in my room when I finally got in there, though. I gulped when I seen the strap was on the dresser. I tried not to look at it.

He was going through the homework he'd picked up for me when he went up to my school. It took some explaining as to why I was gonna be out for a while but the teachers didn't have a problem getting some of the work I was gonna miss together.

That being said, it was the end of the school year so we were mostly just revising for finals. I already knew everything on the homework, I just hadn't actually gotten around to doing it yet, which isn't exactly what I'd told Darry.

"Thought you said most of this was done?" He said, dropping the papers he was holding back onto my desk, "You lying to me now?"

I sighed. I knew I should have just done the work. "I'm gonna finish it all, Dar," I said, dropping my dirty clothes and towel off into the hamper, "I swear. I just haven't got around to it, yet."

He didn't like my answer. He arched his eyebrow at me and I averted my gaze. "Then why did you lie and tell me you'd done most of it?"

I shrugged. I knew he was gonna be more upset about the lying. "Because I'm not very smart?" I offered, peaking up at him over my eyelashes. I figured I could at least try to puppy-dog-eye my way out of the situation. I was already in trouble, I really didn't need anymore.

"Yeah, okay," Darry snorted, amused. "We'll talk about this later," He said, gesturing towards the pile of homework.

I just nodded. I knew I wasn't getting away with it.

He grabbed the chair from the desk and dragged it over so he was sitting directly in front of where I'd sat down on the bed. He took a seat in the hard wood chair and leaned back, crossing his arms. He seemed to be examining me for a moment, just staring at me with slightly squinted eyes. I hated when he did that. It was like he was trying to see into my brain, and a lot of the time it seemed to work.

Like always, I didn't look back while he was analyzing me. I played with my long sleeves and worried on my bottom lip, wondering how long he'd just stare at me until he found what he was looking for.

"What's goin' on in that head, kid?" He finally asked after what felt like years.

There were so many different answers I could have given him and they would all be true, but a lot of it I really needed to keep to myself. My head had been a mess since I got jumped, but Darry was already worried enough about me. I could handle my thoughts on my own.

Darry rolled his eyes when I just shrugged. "I don't speak shrug," he said, and that one he'd pulled right out of Mom's dictionary. I was quite the talker when I was little, so she never really said it to me, but she sure said it to him a lot. I wondered if he seen the irony in that.

"Seriously, Ponyboy, I know something's off," He said, leaning up so his elbows were resting on his knees. "Even if you've known I was mad at you before, you've never asked me for a punishment."

"I didn't ask this time!" I countered quickly, because I didn't need him thinking I wanted him to strap me.

"No," Darry sighed, and I could see him trying to figure out how to word what he wanted to say. I hated when him and Soda did that. It made me feel fragile. "You had the option of waiting at least another week, though, Ponyboy, and you still pressed for your punishment today. I know you, Pony. Just you knowing I'm still mad wouldn't of made you do that. It's gotta be more than that."

God, why couldn't he just whip me and get it over with? He always wants answers.

"I deserve it," was all I said back, and it was real quiet. I was surprised he heard me. If he hadn't of been a couple feet away from me he probably wouldn't have.

Darry gave me the analyzing look again. It wasn't like me to say I deserve a punishment instead of fighting tooth and nail against it. He knew that.

"Yeah," he started slowly, "You do, but you don't deserve it when you're still hurtin'. Is that what this is? You trying to make it worse for yourself 'cause you feel like you deserve it?"

"No," I replied, beginning to pick with the comforter so I had another reason to not look at Darry. If I looked at him, I knew I'd cry. I really didn't want to. "I just want y'all to forgive me," I said softly, "Tired of always messin' stuff up."

Darry sighed, "You're not always messing stuff up, Pony."

I shook my head, "Yes, I am. I'm always making you yell at me or ground me or something. I'm always lettin' you and Soda down, Dar. I make everything really hard and I stress you out and I'm sorry. Everything's all my fault, Dar."

"Ponyboy, no," He started, but I cut him off.

"Yes!" I almost yelled back. Tears were streaming down my face. Apparently I'd had a lot bottled up and that's why I'd been so off. "It is! All the stuff with the Soc's getting worse is my fault and you bein' so stressed out all the time is my fault 'cause I'm always doin' something bad whether it's failing a test or walking by myself I'm messin' something up and I'm the reason you had to grow up so fast, and I'm just so sorry, Dar! I'm sorry! You don't deserve to have to deal with me and-"

"Hey!" Darry pretty much yelled, cutting me off, "You do not mess everything up. You don't always listen when you should and you make mistakes, because you're fifteen. You didn't have control over mom and dad dying, and you didn't have control over me deciding to take custody of you and Soda, okay? I chose to grow up and handle the stress because y'all are my little brothers and I love you and I didn't want to see you in some boy's home. I can handle everything you and Soda throw at me. Stop thinkin' you ruined my life, Ponyboy, because you didn't. I like my life. You don't gotta worry about me. You definitely don't have to apologize. And what those Soc's did to you wasn't your fault, Pony. You shouldn't have been out by yourself, no, but I tell you not to walk alone as a precaution, it doesn't make getting jumped while you were out walking alone your fault. Those Soc's did that to you, okay? You didn't do nothing wrong to deserve that. You didn't make nothing worse than it already was. Now, you stop talking like that, you hear me? I don't wanna hear nothing like that again."

He had moved so he was sitting next to me on the bed, but I'd turned so I was facing him. I was crying and I really didn't feel like talking once he'd got done, so I just nodded and let him hug me. I buried my head into his shoulder to cry and let him rub my back.

I didn't think he was gonna say anything else, but he did, "You're still a kid, buddy. I know I'm hard on you, but I just want you safe. I definitely don't yell at you and punish you because I want you to feel like you're messin' everything up. You know that, right?"

I sniffled and nodded against his shoulder. His scolding and swatting didn't always make me feel the best, no, but it isn't where everything jumbled in my brain was coming from.

"And you don't let me and Soda down, Pony," he said after a moment of silence, addressing something else I'd said on my little rant, "You make us mad or disappointed sometimes, yes, but we're real proud of you, Ponybaby. Always."

That declaration kind of made me cry harder. My brothers were never quiet when I brought home a straight 'A' report card. I know Darry boasted about me all day at work, and so did Soda. Darry always kept my most recent report cards on the fridge, too, and even after he took them down he kept them in a drawer in his room. I knew my brothers were proud of me. It just always felt good to actually hear it.

It took me a while to calm down again, but Darry was as patient as ever. I don't know how he'd dealt with me for the past week, as whiny as I was, but he did with little to no complaint.

"Sorry I've been such a brat, Superman," I apologized quietly, turning my head some so he'd be able to hear me. "I've had a lot on my mind, I guess."

"Yeah, I see that," Darry replied, playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. "That's why I try to get you to talk, kid. It's not good to keep everything bottled up like that. You'll drive yourself crazy."

I definitely felt better after I'd said everything that had been swimming in my head for like a week, so I figured he wasn't wrong. "I'll try not to from now on, Dar. Sorry."

He kissed the top of my head, "Don't apologize. Just don't throw a fit when I make you talk next time, got it?"

I smiled a little and nodded. "Got it."

We stayed quiet for a bit after that. My head was on his chest and his head was rested on mine and it was the calmest I'd felt all week.

That was until I remembered the strap was sitting on my dresser, ready to be used at any time. My head was clearer since I'd got everything out of it, but I still kind of just wanted to get it over with. I wanted a clean slate so I could actually start behaving, or at least try to. I still really didn't want him to whoop me, but it was going to happen either way. It really didn't matter when.

"Dar?" I said his name quietly, looking over at the strap. "Can we just get it over with?"

He followed my gaze and sighed, "I think we should wait, Pony."

I shook my head and leaned back so my head wasn't on his chest, "I don't want to wait. It's gonna hurt either way. I just wanna be done with it, Dar."

He sighed again and pulled me back to his chest. That was when I realized he didn't want to put it off because he thought I wasn't ready; he wanted to put it off because he wasn't ready.

That wasn't surprising. Darry didn't like hurting me, whether I deserved it or not. He really didn't like it when I was bawling. Strapping me consisted of both of those things. I know he was about as miserable as me by the time we were finished the first time he whipped me, and I knew I was gonna get it worse this time. At the time I was just too mad to realize that he probably needed the hug he tried to give me as much as I did.

"I'm gonna be good now," I stated quietly into his chest, "You won't have to do it again. Promise."

I felt him chuckle. He kissed the top of my head. "I'm sure you're gonna try, but don't make promises you can't keep, kid."

"Well, I'm gonna try real hard," I said quietly, and I was. I knew I was probably gonna end up getting spanked again no matter how hard I tried not to, but I was gonna behave more. Darry really didn't need the stress of me in trouble everyday anymore. Even though he told me not to worry about that, he was my big brother and I wanted to help make his life easier.

"I believe you, Pony."

That was always nice to hear. I guess I say 'Sorry' and 'I didn't mean to' a lot, so Darry and Soda don't always believe me. They should, though, but that's a different story.

Part of me started to panic when Darry finally let go of me and stood up. I had to keep reminding myself I'd be fine and I could start redeeming myself, finally. I just had to make it through the brick wall I'm oh-so-lucky to call my brother.

I shuddered when he picked the strap up. It was so big. I was never sitting down again.

"You know I'm really sorry," I said slowly, leaning back on my hands so I was farther away from him, "Right, Dar? Like really, really, sorry."

"I know," he said simply. He believed me, he just didn't seem to care very much.

I sighed. It didn't matter how much talking I did, I wasn't gonna make the punishment any easier.

"Lose the sweats." He said, stopping in front of me. The strap in his hand quickly became my very least favorite sight.

"Daaar," I whined, hands going to the waistband of my sweats. "Let me keep 'em up this time."

"Absolutely not," he glared at me, taking a step closer. "Get 'em off, now. I'm not repeating myself."

I frowned. He was in his punishment mode and I knew that he most definitely was not repeating himself. His next step probably would have been hitting me with that damn strap. So, sniffling, I stood up and untied the drawstrings. I hated that I was already crying, but I couldn't really help it.

I took my time taking them off, and I only sped up when I saw him cross his arms. He was so impatient when I was in trouble.

Once I'd finally stepped out of them and tossed them back on the bed, Darry put his leg up on the bed and reached for me. I really couldn't help taking a few steps back.

"Daaaarrrr," I whined again, a few tears spilling out of my eyes. I was being a huge baby about it, I knew that much, but I was scared. I honestly didn't know what I was whining about. I think I was just looking for some comfort. Darry was being harsher with me than he'd been all week. I guess I just got used to being babied.

"Come here, Ponyboy, now." he ordered. His voice was softer, but he was still clearly not playing any games with me. He pointed at the spot beside him, "You're gonna make it worse for yourself. Come here."

I refrained from whining again. I really didn't want to get into more trouble, so I slowly walked to the spot he pointed at with my head down. Darry grabbed me under my arms and lifted me up and over his knee with ease. I hated how strong he was. I also hated the position he strapped me in. He had his knee propped up on the bed and had me dangling over his leg. It sucked.

There was nothing under my legs or arms so I didn't having thing to hold on to besides Darry's thigh while I prayed he didn't drop me. I felt four years old and three feet tall and it was one of the worst parts of the whole thing.

"Try and sit still," He said quietly, wrapping his left arm around my waist and pulling me into him. That made me feel a lot better since I wasn't just dangling anymore.

We both knew I wasn't going to be sitting still. I planned on trying, yes, but I didn't have the willpower to stay still the whole time. Darry was a strong guy. He could hold me.

He tapped the strap on my ass and I tensed up, "You ready?"

I shuddered. I definitely wasn't. "No," I mumbled tearfully into his thigh, gripping it for dear life.

Darry pulled me a little closer to him and readjusted his leg again, "You keep your hands in front of you so I don't hit them, okay?"

Whimpering, I nodded into his leg. I tried to relax some; Darry said tensing up made it hurt more, and Darry didn't have a reason to lie. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, waiting.

I heard the sound the strap made when it me before I felt the pain, but when I did I screamed bloody murder into Darry's leg. It was so big it covered my whole ass and then some and it hurt. My scream didn't seem to bother Darry, because he began a pretty steady rhythm of swats that had me bawling within seconds. It was three times as bad as I'd remembered it to be. It had been less than a minute and I was already beyond ready to be finished.

"Ow!" I shouted after a specifically hard hit to my thighs, "Darry! That hurts."

"It's supposed to," he replied, not missing a beat or lightening up at all.

That was when the whole 'Sit Still' thing went right out of the window. I wanted off of his knee and as far away from him as I could get. I tried to use his leg to push myself backwards, but he was holding my waist way too tight for that to even kind of work. I resorted to just kicking my feet and tossing my hips from side to side after that.

I kept it up for a minute or so before Darry got sick of it. He tilted me forward some and really went to work on my upper thighs, and I hollered like I got shot. "Darry! Stop, please! Please, stop!"

"Sit. Still." He said, punctuating both words with harsh swats and then stopping. "Stop it, or I'll add more. You understand me?"

My entire ass was on fire, and I was crying embarrassingly hard. "Yes! I'm sorry!" I cried, stilling my feet.

He put me back in my original position, readjusted his arm around my waist and went right back to whipping me. I couldn't really tell for sure if he was hitting me as hard, but it definitely felt like it. He went on for another minute or so before he stopped again.

"We've had this conversation a thousand times," Darry spoke over my cries, "This seems like the only thing that actually gets what I'm sayin' through that thick skull of yours."

I really hoped he didn't except any kind of coherent response, because I was crying was too hard to try and give one. I still blubbered out another apology.

"We're gonna be doing this a lot more often," He said, tapping the strap against my butt, "Spanking you is the only way I can get you to listen to me so when you repeatedly misbehave you'll get spanked. Maybe I won't be repeating myself as much, huh?"

I cried harder. I figured he'd be spanking me more now, since if anything was going to get me to listen it was getting my butt blistered by my big brother, but that definitely didn't mean I had to be happy about it.

He started whipping me again and I hollered, "Okay, Dar! I'm gonna be good! Please, stop, Darry! Please!"

I was crying so hard he probably couldn't actually understand what I was saying to him, but my tone made it clear that I was desperate.

He brought the strap down a couple more times and then stopped again. I had to keep reminding myself how to breathe. I really, really hoped we were done.

"We gonna need to have this conversation anytime soon?" Darry asked, and I felt his eyes trained on the back of my head.

It took me a second to calm down enough to talk and finally pull my head out of his thigh. I rested my cheek on the spot where I'd been crying into his jeans so I could talk. "No, Dar," I stuttered out, hiccupping, "I'm really sorry. No more? Please?"

He didn't answer me. "You gonna start listening to us more, now? Do you think you've finally learned your lesson?"

I nodded frantically, "Yes, Dar. I promise I've learned." I had. My ass was on fire and I was never gonna be able to sit down again, and since Darry planned on spanking me when I acted up from then on, I was definitely behaving now. "I'm gonna be good. I promise."

"Yeah, you better be," He said, resting the strap back on my butt. I grimaced. "I don't want to have to do this again, so you better not make me, got that?"

I nodded again, sniffling. I wiped my face on his leg and then peaked over my shoulder up at him. Giving him my very best puppy dog eyes, I quietly asked, "Can we please be done now? Please?"

I know he planned on giving me more, but I was still crying and I know I sounded pretty pitiful and childish, so that combined with the eyes must have brought the protective big brother out in him because he tossed the strap on to the bed. I had never been so relieved.

He lifted me off of his leg and put my feet back on the floor. I swayed some; I was a little lightheaded from all the crying. Once I got my footing again, I threw myself into Darry and wrapped my arms around him.

Darry didn't hesitate to hug me back, rubbing my back with one hand and cradling the back of my head with the other. I cried into his shirt, shifting from foot to foot to try and get the stinging my ass to go down some.

I was sure I was never, ever doing something to warrant getting that strap again. Ever.

I cried and blubbered more apologies into his stomach for a bit. Darry never said anything, but he didn't stop rubbing my back or playing with my hair until I'd pretty much stopped crying. He sat down on the bed and pulled me into his lap. He was gonna want to talk. I was pretty exhausted, but I figured I'd try.

"You okay?" He asked quietly, his hand going to my back.

I laid my head on his chest and sighed. "No, that hurt." I replied, but there was no real heat to it. It hurt something awful but I knew I deserved it.

Darry laughed a little and kissed the top of my head – he was fond of doing that – and said, "I'm glad. Maybe you'll think before you take off on your own next time."

I smiled a little. I definitely would be doing whatever I was told for a while. Darry deserved that much out of me. I tried to stifle a yawn into Darry's chest, but failed.

Darry laughed at me again before swinging me up into his arms and walking into the living room. I hated how easily he could carry me, but it came in handy more often than I was willing to admit. He lay me down on my stomach on the couch and squatted down so he was in front of me. "Get some sleep, okay? We'll talk some more when you wake up."

It was already after eight o'clock, so taking a nap was a terrible idea, but I could barely keep my eyes open. Getting whipped really takes the energy out of you.

"You sleep, too," I mumbled, letting my eyes close. He looked like he needed it, too.

"I will," he replied quietly. He was probably lying, but I didn't have the energy to stay awake to find out, so I just hummed a little and let him play with my hair until I drifted off.

this one took me a little longer than the others but it's also very long lol..enjoy the fourth revise!jmq