Ch. 8
I must admit, I've been postponing the inevitable. . .
Never having been on the receiving or administering end (pardon the pun) of a spanking, I'm not exactly sure I know what I'm doing, here. But as Anakin would reason, there's a first time for everything, so I better stop procrastinating and get to it!
I do not own any of the Clone Wars characters or anything in the Clone Wars universe.
Warning: If it isn't evident already, spanking of a teenager WILL happen in this chapter.
"Where is the dress?"
Ahsoka's eye markings raised in surprise.
It has been fifteen minutes since Anakin had left her in her usual common room chair, and then left her to stew while he had gone to his own quarter to do who knew what. Ahsoka snorted. He was probably pacing, battling between what Obi-Wan would have him do and what he really wanted to do with her. The thought of that made her cringe.
Even if she was tired of just sitting, waiting for her fate, she was glad for that reprieve.
The very lengthy, very embarrassing walk from The Council Chamber to the Temple living apartments had been one she could just as soon forget. Not only did he keep a death-lock grip on her upper arm, the few times someone was brave (or idiotic) enough to ask where they were going, he growled, "Ahsoka and I need to talk."
She, in turn, would duck her head, hoping the inquirer wouldn't see too much of her mortification. Her master was not a subtle man.
Making matters worse, with each step his fear and frustration grew until, finally, when they did enter their own apartment, she was practically shivering from the cold fury he was emanating. He pushed her into her chair and with a stern glare said, "Don't move."
For fifteen minutes, she hadn't. Maybe she was too scared, too tired, or too resigned to question him on it. She was preparing herself for the lecture she knew he'd deliver the moment he'd step out of his quarters. The only thing she wasn't ready for was the first question he had asked.
"Master?"
Anakin huffed out some air. "The dress, Ahsoka. You know, the one you were wearing when you went rogue and snuck out. Where is it?"
"It's in my closet."
He crossed his arms and nodded his head. "Go get it."
Ahsoka didn't like where this was going. She quickly ran to her quarter and pulled the silky, flowing dress from the closet. Re-approaching the common room, the young Togruta almost turned back around to lock herself in her room.
Anakin had taken on, as she liked to call, his "do or die" stance. Normally she admired it. It worked wonders on the battlefield or in interrogation rooms, leaving anyone he was directing it at a quivering heap. She always thought it rather comical. Then again, the joke had never before been on her.
On top of that, Anakin didn't have a clue about fashion. So for him to take notice of this particular dress – for whatever reason – she knew things were bad. Ahsoka had a sinking feeling he would make Master Plo's punishment seem like a picnic.
"Come here," he said, pointing to the spot on the floor directly in front of him.
Ahsoka hesitated. Anakin had been upset with her countless times before, but never like this. She literally was paralyzed out of fear. What was he going to do?
"Now!" he barked.
She rushed forward, tripping on the gown and almost face-planting herself at Anakin's feet if he hadn't caught her. Ahsoka looked up and saw him roll his eyes.
"I'm angry, Snips, but I'm not going to kill you."
"I know, Master. You've just got me a little jumpy is all." She smiled, hoping to diffuse the situation. He had called her Snips, so if memory served her correctly, maybe she was going to walk away from this easier than she had originally thought. All she had to do was throw in the puppy eyes, crack a joke, and –
"Think again, Ahsoka," he intoned with one raised eyebrow. The raised eyebrow.
Ahsoka gulped, knowing that the manipulative thoughts he'd read had not helped her cause. Think fast, Ahsoka, she told herself.
"Sorry, Master," she murmured, head bowed, eyes peering up into his face.
Something in Anakin's eyes flashed. Before she knew it, he had spun her around and landed a hard smack on her backside. "Don't you dare lie to me again, Ahsoka!"
"Ow! That wasn't a lie, Master," she ground out with indignation. "I really am sorry."
"Sorry you got caught, you mean," Anakin retorted.
Now Ahsoka was offended. Was he always going to think the worst of her? Give her ninety-five percent of his trust, but never that full one-hundred? Granted, maybe her actions over the past few days weren't the most trustworthy, but the Council was getting past it – and hadn't all her months of loyalty proven to be worth something? This was too much, and suddenly, the dam holding back all her hurt and frustration since before The Citadel came rushing out.
"No! Sorry that no matter what I do or say, you'll always see me as some little youngling who can't take care of herself!"
Ahsoka stood seething, daring Anakin to argue.
Anakin threw his hands up and began pacing. "Can you blame me for being overprotective, when you sneak around and then on top of everything, lose your Lightsaber? Force, Ahsoka, you could have been killed. Worse! You could have been...you were almost..."
"Almost what?"
The young knight whirled around to face the apartment windows. He needed to push the thoughts of what could have happened out from his mind, before he grew more agitated. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten Ahsoka, but she needed to know just how dangerous a game it was she has played.
He faced her, and without equivocation stated, "Raped. You could have been raped."
Her eyes widened with disbelief and disgust. Yes, Reln was a sun of a Bantha, but he wouldn't have...there was just no way he would...
Ahsoka began shaking her head. "No. Not Reln. He may be a duplicitous arms dealer, but he wouldn't have stooped that low. Besides, I'm a Jedi. I wouldn't have let him. I didn't let him. I -"
Anakin shook his head sadly and cut her off. "Ahsoka, there are still some things that you are too young, too inexperienced to understand. Guys like Reln -"
"Ugh! Will you quit treating me like a child? I'm not stupid. Nothing happened and if anything, I helped you on this mission. You just can't stand the fact that you need me to help you get the job done."
Anakin's jaw tightened and his eyes turned threateningly dark. Ahsoka would have stepped back, but was too angry to back down.
"What do you mean 'like a child'?" he shouted. "As far as I am concerned, Ahsoka Tano, you are a child. You've more than proven that with your lying, disobedience, recklessness and naiveté these past few days. If anything, your actions just go to show how much you need me to save your ungrateful, cocky, over-inflated ego of a tail!"
"Ha! And just where would I get that from? Maybe if you weren't so busy trying to be the hero, you would see that I could be someone you could trust and be proud of! But what am I saying?" she sarcastically asked, replacing tears with a snarky attitude in hopes that he wouldn't see the truth of her insecurities. "You never wanted me, never wanted a Padawan. I'm nothing but trouble, a dead weight you have to lug around. Well, forget it, Master. Now that I'm a grown woman, I'll gladly get out of your hair. Go and save the galaxy, Master!"
With that, Ahsoka whirled around and ran to her quarters, brushing the few tears that escaped away from her eyes.
"We are not through, Little One. Get back here!" Anakin commanded.
She did not return to his side, but she did stop to face him. "What is it?"
Ahsoka could tell by his facial expression he did not like her tone. But she could also tell he was tiring of the argument, which was fine with her. She was over it, too.
"First, you can lose the attitude. Second, no matter what you think, you aren't a full grown-woman and you don't get to leave this Padawan-Master relationship until the Council says so. Third, because you insist on being childish, to remind you who is master here and what happens when you are disobedient, you are going to give the dress back to Senator Amidala first thing this afternoon. Am I clear?"
Oh yes, he was clear all right. Clear that it was the Council who kept them together. He had just said as much. Clear that he would never trust her or be proud of her. Well, one person did think she had what it took to be worthy of such praise, and she wasn't going to insult her friend – the closest thing she ever had to a sister – by returning a heartfelt gift.
Ahsoka stood silently for so long that Anakin nodded his head, indicating they were finished. He turned toward their dining area when, from out of nowhere, the most blatantly contrary thing Ahsoka had ever said escaped from her lips.
"No, Master! I won't do it."
For a second time in her short Togruta life, Ahsoka experienced the sensation of controlling time. Or at least is seemed that way.
In slow motion, Anakin turned round to face his Padawan. Then with calculated, measured steps stalked towards her. Within an instant, she snapped back to real-time and self-preservation told her to run. Before she could, his hand reached out and held her arm in a vice-like grip. He leaned down so that his face was inches from hers.
"What. Did. You. Say?"
"I s-s-said n-no," she stuttered.
His face darkened and Ahsoka wanted to hide. She would rather face Count Dooku one thousand lifetimes over than be in Anakin's grip right now. Then he surprised her with another question uncharacteristic to him.
"Why?"
His piercing eyes pinned Ahsoka incapable of speech. But it in some distorted sense, emboldened her. No, maybe bold wasn't the right word. A touch of flippancy, perhaps. She shrugged, letting him know that if he wanted an answer, he would have to search them out.
Anakin was quickly loosing his tenons grasp on the already small reserve of patience left him. He gave his Padawan a slight shake. "Oh no you don't. I asked you a direct question, and you're going to give me a direct answer."
The thing inside of her urging her to push him over the edge, that insane, reckless impulse which had been driving her actions ever since their return from the Citadel wasn't ready to go down quietly. Ahsoka knew she was being stupid. Yet somehow, she was tired of weighing out each and every consequence. What was it he had called her? Oh yes. Little One. That riled her all the more. If a youngling is what he insists on seeing, she thought smugly to herself, then a youngling is what he is going to get.
"What? I'm not allowed to have my own thoughts now either? I can't keep the dress, I can't go on missions, I can't do or say or think anything without your permission. Well guess what. No. No! NO! It's not fair and I don't care what you are anyone else in the Council has to say! I'm sick of it. You get to do whatever you want without anyone batting an eye. There's no reason why I can't be allowed the same!"
Punctuating her tirade, Ahsoka mustered up all the Force energy she could gather and released herself from Anakin's grip, at the same time pushing him to the wall. She flinched at the sound of his body slamming against it, but didn't stop to see if he was alright. If he wasn't ready to kill her before, she just knew he was now.
She made a dash for the front door when all of the sudden she was suspended a few feet in the air. "That's it. You are DEAD!" a very angry, very threatening Anakin Skywalker shouted.
Panic filled Ahsoka's body. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, but it was all pointless. Her master had a Force hold on her, and there was no way he was letting her down until he was good and ready. From the corner of her eye, she saw him rubbing his shoulder. Ahsoka knew he wasn't really hurt. Just sore – with a bruised ego. That was the worst part. It would have been better if he really was hurt – for her anyway.
As quickly as she was lifted into the air, she was dropped with a hard thud.
"Owww! Master, that hurt!" she cried angrily, while rubbing her backside.
"Not as much as it's gonna," he said menacingly. In one smooth motion he picked his Padawan up by the waist and strode into her quarters. Pulling out the hard-back chair from her desk, he promptly sat and swiftly swung her over his knees.
Realization dawned on Ahsoka as she was now getting a detailed view of the floor. "No, Master. I'm sorry! No!"
SMACK – SMACK
"Don't lie and don't tell me no. Two things I hate!" he said, landing another solid smack on her upturned backside.
"Master – ow! - this isn't the Jedi way!"
"You're – SMACK- right – SMACK," he replied. "It isn't. But like you said – SMACK- I do whatever I want – SMACK- and nobody bats an eye. Perks of being me, I guess." SMACK- SMACK-SMACK.
Ahsoka whimpered, causing Anakin to still for just a minute. He really didn't want to be doing this to her. No doubt, she deserved it, but he still wasn't thrilled. He had hoped taking the dress away would be enough, but it was clear Ahsoka didn't want to be open with him. He couldn't help her if she wasn't ready to be honest with herself, let alone him. He couldn't risk losing her again, not if she was so adamant to keep putting herself in unnecessary danger. It was his job to keep her safe. If this was the only way, then...
"Listen up, I'll let you go if you apologize and tell me why you've been acting like such a selfish little brat. You have til the count of five."
Anakin began counting. Ahsoka was so indignant, so furious that she set her jaw and refused to cry. If he wanted a sincere apology from her, he wasn't going to get it like this. She'd been in battle, captured, and even tortured. She'd gone through worse. She could handle this juvenile punishment.
"Four... four and a half..."
She let out a frustrated bark. "If you're gonna do it, do it. It won't change a thing!"
"Fine!" he barked back.
He let his hand rain down on her backside, sharp and even smacks peppering her so that she began to wriggle. Soon what was stinging began to heat-up, like a slow fire that could only be put out if she kicked.
"Stop kicking!" Anakin commanded.
"Easier said than done – OW!"
"Save the attitude for the battle field, not with me."
To Ahsoka's dismay, all her indignation and bravado of a couple minutes prior began to evaporate. Aside from the very physical discomfort she was undergoing, she could feel Anakin's sadness and distress. Again, the guilt and overwhelming sense of frustrated responsibility she had felt when he had lectured her on the shuttle surrounded and permeated her conscious.
The more she perceived how punishing he was on himself for her own lack of foresight – how hard he was being on himself for not protecting her better, even though the responsibility of her poor choices landed squarely on her shoulders - the harder it was to keep from crying out.
Until she no longer could keep in check. "Master, please! Please, I am sorry. Really and truly sorry. It was not your fault, but mine. I should have listened to you. I never should have snuck out. Please, please stop!"
To her relief, Anakin did stop. She pushed up from his knees, expecting to be set free, but was surprised by the pressure on the small of her back pushing back down.
"Master? Please believe me. I'm not sorry I got caught. Promise."
Anakin sighed, letting out a low chuckle with no humor behind it. Just sadness and regret.
"I know, Snips." He then inhaled and exhaled, as if preparing himself for a difficult task. He began to speak. He was so quiet, Ahsoka had to strain her ear-orifices to catch everything – not an easy task while flipped upside-down!
"I know you're sorry and you should be. And I know you think it's not fair when I'm being overprotective, or tell you stay behind. And I get that you hate being treated as youngling. You think I don't trust you...don't think you're capable. That's not true. There's no one else I would rather have out there with me. So when you go off and do stupid things like making-out with shady men and losing your Lightsaber, I'm disappointed, and yeah, scared. Scared that I've failed you. Scared that my best friend...more like a sister, really...is in a situation where she needs my trust and loyalty, but I'm not there to give it. I'm not there to prove what she's proven to me so many times before. Scared that I can't make her proud of me, as much as I am proud of her."
Ahsoka was stunned – sniffling with tears trickling down her face – but stunned. Anakin, it was safe to say, didn't do emotions. Not the soft and fuzzy kind, anyway. She knew this wasn't easy for him – well, that was an understatement. Ahsoka knew she had to respond, letting him know she not only accepted his vulnerability, but valued it.
"Master, you're the best there is. Stop worrying. You never failed me before. And I promise to never make you scared about failing me, ever again."
"The Force you won't! Sometimes the best protection in battle is taking preemptive measures. Remember this the next time you think I'm being unfair," he said, with more ease than before.
Ahsoka wished she could say the same of his hand. He let two heavy smacks fall.
"Ooooowww! Master!" she whined.
"Stop it, Snips. You trust me to protect you and keep you safe, don't you?"
"Yeeeees," she said, skeptically.
"Well, what kind of master would I be if I didn't keep you safe from yourself?"
"The best one?"
"Already am!"
Before Ahsoka could get another word in, Anakin really let her have it. SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK. Ahsoka thought the first round was rough, but her burning backside told her this was a whole new level of pain. She kicked, begged, and cried. But he kept on going.
She threw her hand back to deflect some sting, but he just pulled it back with the hand that was pressing her on his lap.
"No, Ahsoka, no deflecting shields."
"You – hic – you're not f-f-funny," she hiccuped.
"Well, if you didn't like that, you're going to hate this," he quipped.
At that moment, he lifted his knees in such a way so that she tilted forward and her sit-spots were more exposed.
"Do- SMACK- not – SMACK- ever- SMACK – lie – SMACK – disobey me – SMACK-SMACK – or put yourself – SMACK – in danger – SMACK-SMACK- ever again! SMACK-SMACK-SMACK. Am I clear?"
Ahsoka was sobbing so hard she barely uttered out a, "Yes."
"And – SMACK- if I ever- SMACK- SMACK – hear – SMACK – or feel you think – SMACK-SMACK-SMACK – that I don't care – SMACK – or am not – SMACK – proud of you – SMACK-SMACK- then what you're going to get – SMACK - is ten times – SMACK- worse than this! SMACK- SMACK- SMACK- SMACK. Clear? SMACK."
Ahsoka was past the point of sound – unless it was hiccuped sobbing. She merely nodded her head up and down, and lay on his lap.
Anakin had stopped after driving his final point home with one last resounding smack. As his Padawan lay over his lap – one sobbing, remorseful, mess – he rested his hands on her back, allowing her to pull herself back together.
Soon after, Ahsoka pushed herself up and stood to face him, shamefacedly staring at the ground while rubbing her sore backside. She was embarrassed by her sobbing, and more embarrassed that he had had to discipline her in the first place.
"I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry, M-m-masterrrr," she stuttered and tearfully said. She wanted to say more, but that was all she really could get out.
She looked so pitiful that Anakin couldn't help but draw her in for a hug. "Hey, Snips, settle down. I know you're sorry, and I know you won't be doing anything like that again. Slate's clean, okay?"
Ahsoka nodded her head into his chest. Anakin could sense her embarrassment, and the doubt swirling in her head. "No, Snips, you aren't the first and only Padawan to have been spanked. There's one other that I know about, and believe me, you've taken it a lot better than he did."
Ahsoka looked up at him, with a smirk. Her face was tear-stained and her eyes were puffy, but at least she had that mischievous, know-it-all twinkle back in her eye. Anakin laughed and rolled his eyes. "Well, you won't get any more details from me. But I'm sure Obi-Wan would love filling you in at dinner. Come on, let's go."
Anakin strode out of her room, expecting her to be at his heels. When he turned to ask her if she was in the mood for training, he spied her longingly caressing the dress Padme had given her as she neatly folded it back into the gift box. Ahsoka looked up and blushed, having been caught in such a girly action.
She quickly gathered the box and met him at the door. "Let's drop this off at the Senator's office before dinner, okay?" she ordered more than asked.
"You know, I can return it to her. Explain that Padawans really don't need these type of outfits if it'll make it easier for -"
"That's okay, Master. I can handle it."
Yes, Anakin was proud of her. "Whatever you want, Ahsoka."
From the corner of his eye, he saw her shoulders slightly slump. Anakin cleared his throat.
"I might be gone for a couple of days for this mission. I know the Council has your time filled, but there's a mission I need you to attend to."
"Really?" she asked, all to eager to get out of custodial duties and such limited restriction for the week.
"Yeah, Senator Amidala wants to go shopping. Some big dignitary is throwing a party. She asked for a Jedi protective escort – to the shops and to the party."
Ahsoka quietly looked up at her Master, knowing where this was going but wisely keeping her smart comments to herself.
"This means you'll probably have to get a new dress or something, to fit in and all. The one she gave you could work, but -"
"You're right, Master," she jumped in. "This dress is nice, but a dignitary's ball deserves something a little more. I'm sure the Senator and I will find something appropriate. I'll make you proud."
Anakin smirked as he handed her a pouch full of credits – enough to buy two dresses if needs be.
"I'm sure you will, Snips."