Okay guys, here's part 2! I appreciate the reviews and that I'm gaining some followers and likes on the story. I went back and edited the last chapter for some grammatical and spelling errors, I'll probably do that with the past few chapters I rushed to publish without reading over.
elliesamdeangirl; thank you so much for always reviewing! I agree, it's definitely a harsh spanking, but she stole his baby so it's well deserved ;)
EmilyAnnMcGarrett-Winchester; thank you for all the awesome reviews! She totally does deserve it, she ignored Cass and we all know how well that usually goes over.
The cold wood of the brush tapping against her already flaming bottom made her flinch and she involuntarily clenched her cheeks in response, knowing that this was about to be the most painful afternoon of her life. Dean didn't speak as he rubbed the brush over her flesh, the brush felt weighted in his hand, he wasn't used to such a...feminine instrument. Usually it was his hand or his belt, the way his dad had done it, the way he had always done it. But for this? It just felt fitting, a fitting punishment for a spoiled little girl who stole things that didn't belong to her, who kept baskets of secrets, who flirted shamelessly to get what she wanted, and undermined his every step. He squared his shoulders, tightening his grip on her waist, his elbow digging into her lower back slightly in warning of what was to come. He wanted her to relax but he knew she wasn't going to, not any time soon. So instead he waited for her sobbing to subside a little and then he began without any other to-do, the brush rising and falling across her ass with satisfying 'SMACKS,' the unyielding wood burst dark red ovals across her already red cheeks, that burned white then faded back to a darker shade of crimson as he continued. She was moving a lot now, her tears had begun in earnest, her voice wailing above the sound of the spanking, begging him to stop, which of course he wouldn't do.
"Oh pl-please-owowow, Dean, oh stop, stop, stop!" The tears came fast, there was no hiding any emotion now. The brush hurt, it burned hotter and deeper than anything she'd ever felt before. She much preferred his belt in that moment, at least the leather was flexible and the burn was on the surface, and this? This was a hot poker lighting her skin, a hundred angry bees stinging the same place over and over, she felt it in her bones. She was sure he was flaying her alive, she was sure she was bruised and battered beyond repair, and her sobs spoke of the pain she was feeling. Dean's resolve was wavering at the sound, but he didn't let up. Up and down, up and down, never striking the same spot, he moved to her sit spots and her wails increased, her back arched against his grip, her feet so tightly crossed that he was sure they'd be just as bruised as her bottom would be. He didn't want to cause her that much pain, but she deserved this, and damnit was he going to make sure the "you won't sit for a week!' sentiment would be put to practice. Her ass was an angry, splotchy red now, he moved to redo the pattern he'd hit on for the third time, the brush splatting into her skin with no pause. Emily's body finally relaxed, she'd surrendered, given up, the fight gone. There was no stopping it, and the pain had become a buzz in her mind, she leaned into it, and just sobbed brokenly into the blanket beneath her, her body shaking with the cries and the stress of it all. Dean finished the round, a solid forty swats, and realized he'd accomplished his task, the girl beneath him wasn't struggling, she was barely reacting any longer which meant that the spanking had gotten through and he had reached "numb" stage.
He tossed the brush behind him and moved his hand to rub across her firm globes, feeling the wheals from the brush marring the perfect skin. There were a few spots that were much darker, they'd definitely begin to bloom bruises, but for the most part it was just thoroughly spanked skin that would be reminding her of this transgression for at least a few days to come. Emily's quiet sniffles and hiccups broke up the silence between them, she made no movements to stand or pull away, he made no movements to release her or stop the gentle circles on her scorched flesh. They stayed that way until she'd cried herself out, then he slowly helped her to stand between his knees again. Her face was a mess and yet somehow she was so perfect as she stood in front of him, still gloriously naked and for once, unashamed, and Dean felt the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her all over her tear-stained face so strongly that he had to take a deep breath to settle himself.
He bent down and picked up the robe from the floor, standing to help her get back into it, her movements slow and jerky, clearly still feeling the after effects of what had just happened. She didn't make eye contact, didn't speak, no trace of anger or rage in her face, but that didn't mean it wasn't coming. Dean opened his arms and she took the hug, wrapping her slim arms around his neck and burying her face into his shoulder as he rubbed soothing circles into her back now, instead of her bottom. She was exhausted then, the spanking had taken every bit of emotion out of her, but she managed to let out a small, "I'm so, so sorry Dean," into the crevice of his neck, her breath ghosting across his skin, and he chuckled a little, flexing his arms harder around her and dropping an affectionate kiss to the top of her head. He wasn't angry any longer, she had a way of clearing the air after punishments almost like sage, he couldn't quite put his finger on it, whatever it was that made him feel this way, as though he was the wrong one.
"You will be, when you have to sit on your ass for the drive back home." The tender moment was broken, he always managed to do that, and Emily had pulled away to give him a sassy retort just as the door opened and Sam popped his head in.
"This place got room service? I'm starving." Emily nodded, offering him a watery smile, and pointing to the menu still open on the nightstand table next to the phone. Sam, sensing that things were calming down, fully entered the room and flopped onto the bed, taking up the menu while Dean shot him a little glare. Good old Sam.
"Really, Sam, don't you think we should, oh I don't know, get back on the road?"
"Nah," Sam flipped the page on the menu and smiled up at the two of them. "Emily's got the room for the night, let's stay. We haven't had a break like this in awhile, and if it's paid for then what's the harm?" He sat up to hand Dean the menu and grinned at the pair of them, "What do you say? A night in "lap of luxury,"?" he mocked Dean, making Emily laugh a little and Dean frown a lot.
"I am tired," she admitted, turning her gaze to Dean. "You guys are too, right? Why don't we stay a night?"
Dean saw he was outnumbered and the frown deepened, though after a beat he shook his head in acquiesce. "Fine, you guys win. But I want a steak sandwich and a beer and a nap and an hour of that big screen in there with zero interruptions," he bargained and Emily laughed again. The tension was gone. The boys were back, spoiling her plans, and yet, instead of feeling frustrated about the whole thing, Emily felt a little relieved they'd found her. What was the sorcery in this spanking business? She shook the thought from her head and went to the bathroom to dress herself, feeling like she needed a heap of caffeine and a snack to make it through the rest of the night as well.
Emily and Dean didn't really speak the rest of the afternoon. The three of them ordered dinner and drinks, put on some action flick that Dean insisted on, and then opened the sofa up to make a pullout bed for the boys to sleep on. Sam teased her when she added a pillow to sit on that night and they'd bantered back and forth until Dean told them both to shut up, and things felt fairly normal. Tense, but normal. To break it up a little, Emily shared with them that the room had been comped, much to Dean's incredulity, and then she shared what Cass had said when she'd been sneaking out the day before. Dean's face remained impassive but thoughtful, regarding her carefully while she spoke, making her feel slightly uncomfortable. Hearing the words coming from her mouth, knowing that she had really messed up that time, it all seemed so stupid now. Sam tried to press her on what Cass had meant in his cryptic message, but Emily clammed back up, and they hadn't pushed.
"I know it was dumb, Dean," she told him softly a few hours later while they got ready for bed in the comically large bathroom. Both boys had already enjoyed the shower and the amenities it offered and Sam had passed out almost the second he'd finished his, so it was just the two of them. "But I had to, even knowing what Cass said, even faced with the thought of not seeing you guys again. Even if it meant that I'd run into the thing that killed my dad." Dean was brushing his teeth, and he leaned down to spit while she watched him, the hairbrush that had earlier been used to bust her butt now pulling through her hair in even, methodical strokes. He straightened and gave her his full attention and she continued, setting the brush down gently, the movement not lost on him. She didn't know why she was sharing this with him, but the moment felt right, and if it meant he'd learn something that would help her later, so be it. His big green eyes stayed fixed on her face as she spoke, uninterrupting.
"I wasn't there the night that my dad died," it was difficult for her to get the words out, she couldn't stop the tears from pooling in her eyes as she said it out loud, though she ignored them, ignored the crack in her voice. "We'd been fighting, for awhile actually, and it just finally came to a head, I guess. I was tired of it, every day on the road with him, sitting around while he faced every manner of evil on this earth, not having my own life or my own time, or anything really that was mine and just mine. I'd finally met a guy, some preppy idiot from the local university near where we lived when we weren't on the road, I wanted to go to a concert that night with him, and dad said no," she swallowed hard at the memory, as if it had been a lifetime ago, even though it had been mere months. "There was a hunt he needed me for, and I was so, so angry at him, Dean," the tears were falling quietly, Dean had to resist the urge to lean forward and brush them from her cheeks, "so I left. I left anyway. I went to the concert, and my dad went on his hunt, and he died. The last thing I said to him was that I wished he'd given me away so I could be normal." The word was spat so bitterly that it made them both flinch. "My dad died alone while I got drunk at some stupid band show with some guy I knew I'd never see again, and the worst part was? When I came home, when I saw his body, when I felt the presence of the demon still lingering, I didn't do anything. I didn't fight. I didn't bury him. I just ran away, like some scared little girl." She'd never admitted this to anyone and now that she was, her heart was broken all over again. "It's my fault that he died, Dean, and you have no idea how it feels to know that I could've easily saved him by just not being a selfish little bitch and I failed him. I failed him."
She broke down and Dean didn't say a word as he swept her into his arms and held her tightly while she wept into his shirt, his hand finding the back of her hair, stroking softly. "It's okay," he whispered finally, and he repeated it over and over, as she continued to cry, and he continued to process what she said. He still didn't understand it fully, but he felt like he at least finally understood her, and her need to do what she did, her need to get back to her home, to see what was left there. That night, he didn't leave her to cry by herself, instead he crawled into the bed beside her. She was on her side, not quite asleep, and the move surprised her, but she didn't send him away. It didn't feel sexual, the way she would feel when a man was normally in her bed, it was comforting. It was protective. She had missed feeling that way, feeling like someone truly cared to look out for her. With a soft sigh, she snuggled a little tighter into him and closed her eyes. She was out before she even realized it.
Dean was gone when Emily awoke the next morning. For a second, she wondered if she had dreamed it, but the spot was still warm, and as she shifted to sit up and her ass hit the bed, she groaned. It had definitely not been a dream. The shower was running so she assumed one of them was in it, and she stood to take the heat off her poor bruised butt and pad into the other room. Sam was looking at the room service menu again, but he looked up when she entered and yawned, grinning at her with that boyish smile only he had, "hey sleepy head," he teased, and she noticed that he had already put the bed back together, and tidied up from the night before.
"Dang, I must've really slept in," she acknowledged, holding her hand out for the menu. "Anything look good? There was a Starbuck's next door too, you know..." she wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively and he laughed, taking the menu from her to fold it up.
"That sounds good, I haven't had Starbucks in awhile," he agreed. If he knew that Dean had stayed with her last night, he didn't let on, and Emily felt a grateful tug of affection towards him for that. Sam was always the tactful one, respectful in a way that his brother was not. Speaking of, Dean had entered the room, wiping a towel through his hair, already re-dressed in his clothes from the day before. "Someone say coffee?" He looked between them, waggling his eyebrows in a near perfect impression of Emily that made them all laugh, before he jerked his thumb to the bathroom. "You better hurry princess, check out's in a half hour, and we've got a long drive to Seattle ahead of us."
They boys both turned to look at her expectantly, and it took a second for it to dawn on Emily what Dean had said. "Really?" Her smile was so bright and so genuine that it was infectious, both the boys grinned back, almost doggishly. "Oh you guys!" She threw one arm around each guys shoulder, almost pulling them down to the ground and they both laughed, finding their balance. Sam ruffled her hair affectionately as Dean gave her a sarcastic wink,
"Don't be thanking us when your ass is gonna enjoy another 15 hours in the car, darlin'," Emily made a face at him and rolled her eyes. That did sound miserable. But the appeal of going home was so strong that even Dean's teasing couldn't ruin her good mood.
"I'm going to shower," she announced and without another word, she turned on her heel and headed to shower herself. Stripping off the robe (she made the split decision to swipe it, so into her duffel it went), she turned to survey the damage to her ass. It was still a little pink, there were a few spots that were bruised, a few splotches that were a little darker then the pink. She hadn't expected it to be this...okay. The way it felt, she'd expected it to be much worse. Feeling more cheerful then she had in a long time, Emily turned on the hot water and stepped into the steam.