Author's Note: Hello, everyone. I hope you are all doing well. As always, I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to post a review or send me a PM about this story. I cherish each and every one of them. Seeing that you are enjoying my work means a lot to me. Please, keep them coming.
Retribution is at hand, so you are warned that this chapter contains disciplinary spanking of a teenager. If that's not your thing, turn back now.
CHAPTER 14
Dean reached into the backseat of the Impala and grabbed Krissy's leg. It was the only part of her he could reach at the moment, as she was curled up in a ball against the passenger side door. "Come on, kid, wake up. We're home," he said as he shook it. When she didn't immediately rouse, he shook it again, harder. "Krissy, wake up," he said louder.
Sam climbed out of the passenger seat and stretched out the stiffness that had settled into his body during the long car ride home from Kentucky. He didn't bother to hide his grin when he saw how Krissy was positioned. She was curled up tight on her side against the car door with her head tucked into the corner where the door and the back seat met. Her hands were tucked under her cheek, and her legs had been pulled up against her chest with her left leg slightly extended. It was that leg that Dean had been shaking trying to awaken the sleeping teenager.
"She's completely out of it," Sam said.
"So?" Dean asked as he gave her leg another shake. "She can't sleep out here. She and Baby will both be gone by morning "
Sam sighed. Unfortunately, Dean was right. Krissy had proven during their trip to the Bluegrass State that she still couldn't be trusted by herself. "Give me a hand." He moved to stand beside the vehicle's back door. "You get the door, and I'll catch her before she falls.
"What are you going to do, carry her to bed like some little kid?"
"Yep," Sam replied as he gestured toward the door, indicating that he'd prefer it if his brother would do his part rather than just standing there talking about it. "You get our bags, okay?"
"Yeah, whatever," Dean grumbled as he stepped forward and grasped the door handle. His eyes met Sam's as they coordinated their movements. The door swung open, just as Sam reached out to steady Krissy's still sleeping body. He shifted her until he could slip an arm under her knees and around her shoulders.
"She's still out," he commented as he straightened and lifted her into his arms.
"She must be exhausted to be sleeping that soundly," Dean commented as he closed the door and moved around to grab their bags from the trunk. Once he had them in hand, he followed his younger brother toward the door leading into the bunker.
"Given everything that's happened recently, I'd say she didn't sleep much the last few nights." Sam shifted her slightly in his arms to make carrying her down the stairs a little easier. "I'll put her to bed. Just put her stuff on the map table. She can get it in the morning."
He carried her through the bunker to her room. There, he gently laid her onto the bed before removing her shoes. Because she was going to be in the car all day, she'd opted for a pair of flip flops. Sam grinned to himself as he remembered a moment during their drive when Dean had looked through the rear view mirror to see her sitting sideways in the seat with her book propped up on her bended knees. He'd ordered her to get her feet off the seat. Instead she'd held both feet in the air and slowly kicked her legs to demonstrate that she was barefoot. Dean had been momentarily struck speechless.
Sam was still grinning as he placed the flip flops in front of her closet door before turning back to the bed. He considered a moment before returning to her side. He rolled her onto her side and reached into the top of her t-shirt and removed the gauze pad that had been taped over her still healing tattoo that morning. He had debated whether or not to add the dressing when he'd applied the ointment, as it needed to remain uncovered, but he'd decided that the wound needed some protection from rubbing against the back of the car seat all day than would be provided by just her thin cotton shirt.
After rolling the still sleeping teenager back onto her back, he pulled the covers down on the other side of the bed and shifted her so that he could pull them over her. She mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over onto her side.
He turned out the overhead light and paused a moment before stepping through the door. She was going to be in for a hard day when she woke up, and he didn't envy her with what she was going to face come morning.
XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX
Krissy lay in bed trying to figure out where she was and how she'd gotten there. The last place she remembered being was the back seat of the Impala on their way back to the bunker. It didn't take long to realize she was in her own bed. She just couldn't remember getting home or coming down there. God, she thought, please don't tell me Sam or Dean had put her to bed like a little kid. That would be so embarrassing.
She stretched then climbed out of bed. A glance at the clock on her nightstand told her it was almost 10:00. She couldn't remember having slept that late in a long time, and she couldn't believe that one of the brothers hadn't been in to wake her up sooner.
She looked around her room for her backpack and frowned when she didn't see it. She didn't need anything out of it at the moment, but she definitely wanted to know where it was.
She had more pressing concerns at the moment, though, and headed out of her room toward the women's restroom down the hall. A few minutes later she spotted the backpack sitting beside her bedroom door. As Krissy approached, she spotted a piece of paper lying on top of it. "Come to the kitchen after you've showered and dressed, " was written on it. The handwriting wasn't Sam's neat script, so she could only assume Dean had left it there.
She grabbed her bathrobe and headed once again toward the women's bathroom she's commandeered as her own. She grabbed a washcloth and towel as she passed the linen shelf on her way to her favorite shower stall. After draping the towel and robe over the hooks on the back of the door and tossing the washcloth onto the shelf with her toiletries, she stepped back into the aisle to strip off the clothes she'd been wearing since the day before. Leaving them in a pile outside the stall, she adjusted the spray until it was just slightly cooler than molten lava and stepped underneath the hot water.
She stood there, letting the water flow over her face and the front of her body for a few minutes before turning to allow the hot water to flow over her shoulders and back. She frowned slightly as the spray stung as it hit her new tattoo. It hadn't stung like that before, even the day after she'd gotten it.
She sighed as she pushed thoughts of what that meant out of her mind as she turned back to face the spray and grabbed her shampoo bottle. She was sure Sam was going to insist on checking it. She'd just bring it up to him then, she thought as she washed her hair.
She lingered in the shower as long as she dared. She knew she was only delaying the inevitable, but she wanted to put off having to face Dean and Sam as long as possible. After a few minutes more she turned off the water and grabbed her towel from the hook on the back of the stall door. After drying off she rubbed lotion into her skin and slipped into her robe. Exiting the stall, she gathered her discarded clothes from the middle of the shower room floor and carried them with her to her bedroom.
Krissy dumped her dirty clothes into the hamper and rubbed the towel over her hair until it was only slightly damp. The towel joined the other dirty clothes, and she made her way to her sink with the intention of brushing her teeth. As she passed by her desk, she noticed that her cellphone had been triggered to come on by the receipt of a text message. She opened it to read "Get your butt to the kitchen." She didn't have to check the caller ID to know it had been sent by Dean.
She sighed as she quickly brushed her teeth and pulled her still damp hair up onto the top of her head. Slipping her feet into the flip flops that had been left in front of her closet door, she made her way to the kitchen less than ten minutes from when she'd received the text.
Sam looked up from the book he was reading when she stepped into the room. He watched as she moved to the coffee maker and poured herself a cup of the hot liquid. During the time she'd been there she'd learned to drink it black.
Krissy carried her cup of coffee to the table and sat down across from Sam.
"How's your shoulder, " he asked as he closed his book and laid it on the table.
Krissy took a quick glance at the cover of the book and saw that he'd been reading Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. She looked up to see Sam watching her expectantly. She shrugged as she took a sip of coffee. "It's a little sore today, like it's irritated or something."
Sam sat back in his chair. "I was afraid that might happen if we covered it again yesterday." He pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. He turned to share a look with Dean, who gave him a short nod. "Bring your coffee and come with me to the infirmary. I want to take a look at it."
"Go on," Dean chimed in as he shifted the strips of bacon that were sizzling in the iron skillet on the ancient stovetop. "Breakfast should be ready about the time you all get finished with that and get back here."
Krissy stood and picked up her coffee cup. "I'm… ah … not hungry this morning, so don't worry about fixing anything for me." It was true, her stomach was in knots with worry over the discussion she knew was going to happen after the meal.
Dean paused and looked up at her, pinning her with a hard look. "I don't recall asking you if you were hungry. You need to eat, so you're going to eat."
"Whatever." She turned to follow Sam from the kitchen. She had no idea where the infirmary was located, so she needed him to lead the way.
"Wanna try that again?" Dean demanded.
Krissy rolled her eyes, but did as she was told. "Yes, sir."
Sam had watched the exchange from the kitchen door. "You know, antagonizing him today is probably not a good idea, " he said as she approached him. He dropped a companionable hand onto her right shoulder and gave it a quick, reassuring squeeze. "Are you wearing a tank under your t-shirt, or do we need to stop by your room for you to change first?"
"No, I'm good."
"Okay, let's go take care of it, then."
Krissy was glad Sam had led the way to the infirmary. With all of the different hallways they'd traversed, she wasn't sure she could have found it on her own. Once they entered the large, multi-level room, Sam pointed toward a metal exam table.
"Have a seat and take off your t-shirt," he directed as he turned to the nearby medicine cabinet and started pulling out supplies. He wanted to give her some privacy to remove her shirt, as he knew there would have been something inherently embarrassing about taking it off while he watched.
Krissy sighed as she hauled herself up to sit on the table and pulled her t-shirt over her head. She'd chosen her oldest and most comfortable one, as she figured it would be the most comfortable against her shoulder.
She looked over her shoulder as Sam approached the table. He dropped a stack of gauze pads and a tube of ointment onto the table beside her.
"It looks a little red," he commented as he moistened a gauze pad with antiseptic. "How does it feel?"
"It's a little sore." Krissy flinched a little as the cold liquid touched her skin.
"Sorry," Sam apologized as he held the dampened pad in place over the wound for a few seconds. As he looked closer, he realized there was some minor scabbing along the outer edges of the design. "It doesn't look infected, just a bit irritated - probably from where it's been covered so much." He used another pad to dry the area.
"Would you feel comfortable wearing your tank without the t-shirt over it," he asked.
Krissy thought for a moment. Normally, she only wore a tank without anything over it only when she was working out. Plus, the bunker tended to be cool. She shrugged, "I guess."
"If you don't think you'd be comfortable doing that around me or Dean, you don't have to do it. Go ahead and wear a t-shirt or something over it when you're out and about in the bunker, and take the t-shirt off when you're alone in your room. That sound better?"
"Yeah," Krissy shrugged, "I suppose."
Sam grinned slightly to himself at how much like a teenager she sounded in that moment before he realized that he was still standing behind her, so she couldn't see his gesture. "Okay, I don't think it's infected or that you're having a reaction to the ink. I do think it's irritated from being covered so long. I've cleaned it well, and I'm going to leave the ointment off of it for now. You leave it completely uncovered as much as you can during the day today." He laid the used gauze pad on the table and stepped around until he was standing in front of Krissy. "I want to take another look at and probably clean it again before you go to bed tonight. Okay?"
Krissy nodded as she pulled her t-shirt back on.
Sam studied her for a moment. She'd been unusually subdued during their time in the infirmary, and he had an idea why.
"You okay?"
Krissy squirmed a little under his penetrating gaze. She felt a bit like a bug under a microscope. Instead of looking up to meet his gaze she studied the floor and shrugged.
Sam sighed. "Look at me, please." He waited until she'd raised her head and her eyes met his. "Are you nervous about what's going to happen after breakfast?" He knew she had to be at least concerned about having to finally face the consequences of her actions. He knew he would have been under the same circumstances.
Again, Krissy shrugged. "Maybe."
Sam nodded and gave her what he hoped was a comforting smile. "I wouldn't blame you if you were." He moved to lean his hips against the gurnee beside her and draped a comforting arm around her shoulders. "I'm not going to lie to you, Krissy. The next few days are going to be tough for you." He didn't miss how she paled when he'd said "few days". "But, I know that you are going to get through them. And when everything is all said and done, you will be forgiven, and the slate will be wiped clean." Sam knew that, as a pep talk, what he'd just said pretty much sucked, but it was the best he could do.
Straightening back to his full height, he began gathering up the remains of the first aid supplies he'd used on her shoulder. When that was finished, he held out a hand to her. As she took it, she couldn't help but notice how much bigger his hand was than hers, and her thoughts immediately went back to his comment about the new few days. She had no doubt that Dean was going to spank her, and that it was going to be bad. But was Sam planning to spank her, too? Her anxiety shot up at the thought.
Sam helped her off the table, and Krissy immediately jerked her hand out of his and turned and walked toward the door. His eyebrow rose at the sudden change in her demeanor. She'd gone from a meek, scared little girl to arrogant teenager in a blink of an eye. He quickly caught up with her and stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. Turning her to face him, he said, "I don't know what set you off this time, but take my advice. You'd be better served to some repentance during our upcoming discussion. Arrogance or attitude won't get you very far with either Dean or me." He released his hold on her shoulder and stepped back to allow her to continue on her way. "Head back to the kitchen. Dean probably has breakfast ready by now."
Krissy briefly thought about going to hide in her bedroom, but Sam's large presence behind her told her that she wouldn't make it more than a few steps in that direction before she was stopped. Besides, she reasoned, they'd just go get her and haul her back to the kitchen.
"How's the shoulder?" Dean asked as they entered the kitchen. He had looked up from putting a plate of toast on the table. The wooden surface already held a platter of bacon and a jug of orange juice. "Go grab some glasses and plates out of the cabinet," he directed as he looked expectantly at Krissy before turning his gaze back to Sam for an answer to his question.
"It's a little irritated," Sam replied as he took a seat at the table. "I think it's from where we put a dressing on it the last two days. It probably trapped moisture against her skin. I want her to leave it uncovered as much as possible today so it will dry out some." He looked up and nodded in thanks as Krissy set a plate and a glass in front of him.
"How do you want your eggs," Dean asked from the stove.
"I don't want any," she responded as she set plates and glasses at the other two seats where Dean had placed silverware.
"We're not having this discussion again."
"I'm going to eat toast and bacon," Krissy responded. "I just don't want eggs."
Satisfied with her response, at least for the moment, Dean turned to his brother. "Sam?"
"However you're fixing them is fine," he replied, inwardly wincing at all the cholesterol he would be ingesting. He made a mental note to check the pantry for oatmeal.
"Scrambled it is, then," Dean stated as he began breaking eggs into a bowl. It took him only a few minutes to fix the eggs and carry them to the table. Once there, he noticed that Krissy had made herself a sandwich out of a couple pieces of toast and a few strips of bacon.
Breakfast was eaten in silence. Krissy finished her meal before the brothers finished theirs and rose to carry her plate to the sink. She quickly grabbed the pan Dean had used to cook the eggs and washed it. She tested the temperature of the iron skillet he'd used for the bacon and found it cool enough to handle.
Remembering the lecture that she'd received from Dean after she'd washed his iron skillet, Krissy grabbed the roll of paper towels. She pulled off a bunch of towels and folded them to create a pad that she put into the skillet to soak up the bacon grease. In the meantime, she turned to the counter to search for the canister of salt they kept there for cooking. After she found it, she turned back to the skillet and carried it to the trash can, where she removed the now soaked paper towels. Puting the skillet on the counter, she poured a healthy portion of salt into the remaining grease. Using another paper towel, she scoured the salt round the skillet and dumped it into the trash. Finally, using another paper towel, she wiped the remaining salt and grease out of the skillet until it was clean.
She started when she turned to find Dean standing in front of the sink, watching what she was doing.
"Good job," he commented as he put his and Sam's dishes into the sink and turned the water on to wash them. Nodding toward the table he directed, "go ahead and have a seat."
"You sure?" She asked. "I could wash those for you." She didn't really want to, but she thought she needed to earn any bonus points she could.
"No, I've got them. You took care of the hard part. Go grab your seat." Dean picked up the bottle of dish soap and poured some onto the dish sponge. Normally, he would have jumped at the chance to have someone else do the clean up after he'd cooked, but he needed the time to gather his thoughts.
A few minutes later, he grabbed the still partially full coffee pot from the base of the electric coffee maker and carried it over to the table. He refilled his and Sam's cups, and at her nod in response to his questioning look he did the same to Krissy's.
"So," Dean said after he sat down and took a sip of his coffee while pinning the teenager sitting across the table from him with a look that had her squirming in her seat.
Krissy sighed. She knew where this was going without either of the two men sitting across from her having to spell it out. She'd thought about what Sam had told her earlier and had decided to follow his advice. She picked up the coffee cup and took a sip of the hot liquid in order to buy some time to gather her thoughts. Placing it carefully back on the table she looked up at Dean and Sam. Both of them wore stern expressions on their faces, but neither seemed particularly angry at the moment. She was sure that was going to change as soon as they heard what she had to say. "Where do you want me to start?"
"At the beginning is always a good place," Sam responded.
"And don't leave anything out." Dean's hard look told her he wouldn't be very happy if he had to pull information out of her.
Krissy nodded. "When you said I couldn't go to the bar because I didn't have an anti-possession amulet, I figured that involved some kind of sigil. I figured I'd be able to find something about anti-possession sigils in the book you had me studying," she said as she glanced over at Sam. "I flipped through the book before we left and found a few of them, but I didn't know which one would work best. I had an idea about drawing the sigil on something and wearing it or drawing it on my skin." She paused to take another drink of her cooling coffee. "I stashed the book in my backpack so I could reference it later if I found out more information."
Sam didn't know whether he should be impressed or upset that the teenager had taken what he had already taught her about the use of sigil and used it to her own advantage. "Go on," he directed.
"Well, when Charlie said that she and the two of you had a tattoo of an anti-possession sigil, I remembered seeing the one you have on your chests. I also remembered seeing it in the sigil book I'd brought with me. I started researching tattoo parlors near Wilder and making plans to get the tattoo." She swallowed nervously. "You know the rest."
Dean sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Did you even think about asking us about getting the tattoo?"
Krissy shook her head. "No, sir." She hoped being respectful would help lessen the severity of what she was about to face. "I … ah … didn't think you'd agree to it."
"So you decided lying to us and running off to get a tattoo you didn't think we'd agree to was a better option? Did you even consider how utterly foolish that was or that you were bound to get caught?"
Krissy shrugged. "Not really," she replied. "I thought I'd be back at the motel before you, and you wouldn't find out."
Dean just shook his head in disbelief. Lord save him from teenage logic, he thought as he wiped his hand over his face in frustration. "Really," was all he could say in response.
"Where'd you get the money to pay for the ride and the ink?" Sam spoke before his brother could ask anything further.
She couldn't stop the flush that spread across her cheeks. She'd known that question was going to come, and she'd thought she was mentally prepared for it. Reaching into her front jeans pocket, she pulled out the remaining cash and placed it on the table. "I went through your bags and took cash out of them. This is what's left."
Dean snatched the money and counted $250.00. "If this is what's left, how much did you take?"
"I took $200 from each of you," Krissy responded quietly. "I spent $50 on the ride to the tattoo parlor and paid $100 for the tat." She flinched when she saw Dean's face harden. She glanced over at Sam and saw that he, too, had grown angry. "I'm really sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't think I had a choice, and I promise I'll find a way to pay it back to both of you."
"Oh, you had a choice alright, little girl. You could have chosen not to do it." Dean picked up the cash and counted out $130 and handed it to Sam. The denominations of the remaining bills didn't allow him to divide it equally. He folded the remaining $120 and slipped it into his shirt pocket. "But you're right about one thing. You are going to be paying it back. I'm not going to take it out of your hide, since your backside has a high enough price to pay already." He shared a look with Sam, who nodded his agreement to Dean's unspoken question. "Instead you're going to be working it off by doing chores around the bunker."
"Yes, sir," Krissy responded, her voice full of misery.
"So, let me get this straight," Dean said as he straightened in his chair. "You lied to us, stole from us, and endangered yourself by leaving without telling us where you were going, taking an Uber to a tattoo parlor in a strange city." Dean shook his head in disbelief. "And don't for a second think I haven't forgotten that you tried to blame it on Charlie instead of taking responsibility for your own actions." He turned to look at his brother. "Anything you want to add?"
Sam glanced over at his brother before pinning Krissy with a stern look. He moved to sit forward in his chair with his arms crossed on the table. "You took a book out of the library without my permission, and you placed yourself in danger by permanently inking a supernatural sigil onto your body when you knew next to nothing about it." His voice grew harder with each word. By the time he was finished, it could have cut through steel. "Did you even stop to think what could have happened if that guy had drawn it incorrectly?"
"No, sir," Krissy responded quietly.
"If even a single line had been drawn the wrong way, it could have served as an invitation for demonic possession rather than as a protection against it."
Krissy blanched and swallowed hard. She'd had no idea she had been that close to a disaster of her own making. "Oh, I didn't know."
"You didn't know," Sam said harshly, his temper rising. He stopped and took a deep breath to calm himself down. Losing his temper with Krissy wasn't going to serve any useful purpose, and he knew it. "That is exactly why you shouldn't have done it. Do you remember what I told you when I started teaching you about sigils?"
She shrugged, feeling a bit overwhelmed that Sam was being so harsh with her. She'd expected it from Dean, but Sam's anger scared her. It always had, since it seemed to take him longer to get to that point. "I don't know," she responded in a quiet voice.
"I told you," he said, leaning forward so that he was half-way across the table and in her face, "that sigils are dangerous. You're only to use them if you are fully aware of their meaning and dangers. Does that ring a bell with you?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Then why did you choose to have a sigil that you admit you know nothing about onto your body?"
"I thought it would be safe since you and Dean had it tattooed. Plus, I made sure the tattoo artist knew that it had to be exactly like the picture, with no deviation." Her temper was starting to rise, taking over her fear of Sam's temper.
"Was that kid even licensed?" Dean interrupted. "He barely looked old enough to be an apprentice, much less licensed."
"Yes, he was. I made him show it to me before he started," Krissy responded.
"That's something, I guess," Sam responded under his breath. "The fact remains that you placed yourself in serious danger by messing with things you knew nothing about."
Before Krissy could respond any further, Dean sat forward. "Okay, so tell us what you did wrong."
"Do I have to?"
"Are you really asking me that question?"
"No, I guess not," Krissy responded. She picked up her coffee cup with the idea of taking a drink from it to steady herself. Instead, she put it back down on the table.
"Krissy, look at me," Sam directed in a tone of voice that was much gentler than he'd used before. "Pretend it's like a bandaid. Just start talking and let it come. You aren't doing yourself any favors by procrastinating."
Krissy nodded and gave him a small smile in response to his words. Now that she was about to confess all of her sins and face the consequences of her actions, her bravado had fled.
She took a fortifying breath and began. "I lied to you when I said that I had forgotten my computer charger at the bunker. I wanted there to be a reason why I could stay in your room without drawing suspicion. I went through your bags and stole money." She picked up her now cold coffee and took a drink to buy time to gather her thoughts. "I put myself in danger by taking an Uber to a tattoo parlor and having a sigil I knew little about tattooed onto my body."
Sam nodded when Krissy fell silent. "Do you have anything else to say in your defense?"
Krissy studied the now empty coffee mug in her hands. "No, sir," she replied quietly.
"You know," Dean said as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, "if you'd asked either of us about getting that tattoo, we probably would have taken you to get it." He paused to study her for a moment. "So, here's what's going to happen. You're going to go to your room and find a corner to put your nose in."
"But …" She wanted to protest that she was too old to stand in the corner.
Dean held up a hand to stop her. "I don't want to hear it. I will be in shortly to bust your ass for lying to me, stealing from me, and putting yourself in danger by running off."
It wasn't lost on Krissy that Dean had specifically said lying to him.
"And after breakfast in three days, you and I will be having a serious discussion about lying to me, stealing from me, taking that book out of the bunker, and putting yourself in danger by having a sigil you knew nothing about tattooed on your body."
Krissy paled at Sam's words. She'd expected to be spanked by Dean, but knowing she was facing a second one from Sam terrified her. She was so lost in her thoughts that it took her a moment to realize Sam was still talking to her. "Huh?"
Sam sighed. He supposed that it was only natural for Krissy to be distracted by what she had just been told. "As I was saying," he emphasized, "you will be resuming your morning workouts tomorrow at 7:00 with me, and we will also be resuming our lore and hunting lessons tomorrow afternoon."
"Yes, sir," Krissy responded, knowing what both brothers wanted to hear. However, she was torn between wanting things to get back to normal and wanting to hide from what she knew was coming.
"Krissy, look at me."
She lifted her head to meet Sam's gaze. "Your actions have consequences. Not only the physical punishments you are going to receive, but you're going to have to worry hard to regain our trust."
Krissy nodded her understanding. She couldn't bring herself to speak. She lowered her gaze once more to study the hands she had clasped on the table.
Dean reached across the table and laid one of his hands over hers. He felt for the teenager sitting in front of him. He was going to be harsh with her. In his mind, she had earned it. But, that didn't mean he couldn't feel sympathy for her.
"Go on, go to your room. I'll be there in a few minutes."
XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX
Krissy didn't know how long she'd been standing in the corner between her sink and closet. It felt like it had been an hour. She'd debated about taking her phone with her to have something to distract herself while she waited, but she'd ultimately decided against it. She figured Dean's purpose for having her stand in the corner was to make her think about what she'd done and why he was going to bust her butt. Plus, she didn't think she'd have enough of a warning to be able to get her phone back to her desk and back into the corner without getting caught. She was in enough trouble already, she reasoned, and she didn't need to add to it.
She leaned her forehead into the corner, feeling the coolness of the plaster on her skin. Tears welled up in her eyes and started rolling down her cheeks. It was going to be bad, she knew it. And, although he hadn't come right out and said it, she knew Sam was going to spank her, too. All over that stupid idea to get that stupid tatoo, she thought as she kicked the wall.
"What did that wall do to you?" Dean asked from behind her.
Krissy jumped in surprise and turned to face him. She hadn't heard him come into the room. He was sitting on the side of her bed, and she didn't miss the strip of leather that was on the bed beside him. She swallowed hard when she realized it was his belt.
"Come on over here and sit down," he commanded as he patted the mattress beside him.
Krissy hesitated. As much as she would have liked to have been released from the corner only a few minutes before, now it seemed like the safest place to be.
Dean raised his eyebrow, silently warning her that he didn't want to have to repeat himself.
Sighing heavily, she moved away from the corner and toward her bed, dragging her feet the entire way.
When she'd taken a seat on the bed, Dean shifted to drape an arm around her shoulders in what he hoped was a comforting manner. He couldn't blame her for wanting to get the tattoo, and he wanted to make sure that the teenager understood that it was the way she'd gone about that was the problem.
"You do understand, don't you, that I ain't got a problem with you getting the tattoo?" he asked. "I meant what I said earlier. If you'd asked us about it, Sammy and I probably would have taken you to get it done."
"Sam told me that, too," Krissy responded.
"Well, he's a smart man. You ought to listen to him." Dean's posture grew more serious. "My beef, beyond the fact that you lied to me and stole from me, is that you intentionally placed yourself in unnecessary danger by taking that ride service, or whatever it was, to that tattoo parlor. Nobody had any idea where you were. Not to mention, you were an underage girl getting into a car with a stranger. Anything could have happened, and we wouldn't be able to get there in time to protect you. I know you've had training and do decently well at defending yourself, but sometimes that isn't enough. You've got to be more careful about putting yourself in those types of situations."
Krissy considered his words for a moment and realized he did have a point. Her driver had been a middle-aged man who'd reminded her a bit of her dad, and she'd instinctively felt like she could trust him. He'd even been concerned about the fact that she was visiting a tattoo parlor so late, and made sure she had his cell number so she could call him to come pick her up when she was ready to leave. But, she knew it could have been very different. "Yeah, I get it," she responded.
Dean nodded in acceptance of her answer. "Good, I hope you really do. 'Cause it's not only monsters of the supernatural variety you have to watch out for." He removed his arm from around her shoulders and grasped her wrist to pull her to her feet. "Come on, stand up so we can get this over with."
Krissy groaned as she came to her feet and stood in front of Dean.
"Take down your jeans," he directed as he released her wrist so she would have both hands to do as she was told.
"No, please, Dean."
"You've got two choices, little girl. You can do it yourself, or I can do it for you. Either way, those jeans are coming down."
The thought of how embarrassing it would be to have Dean unfasten and lower her jeans had Krissy reaching for the button and zipper that held the denim garment closed. Once they were unfastened, she pushed them down until they rested just above her knees.
Dean nodded his approval before he reached out and again grasped hold of her wrist to draw her over to his side and then across his lap. He adjusted her until her torso rested on the bed and he could trap her legs with his own.
Krissy had just reached over to pull one of her pillows over to hug to her chest when the first stinging slap landed on her backside. It was followed by several others as Dean rained swats all over the bottom, sit spots, and the tops of her thighs. The pillow absorbed her cries, and Dean remained silent as he spanked her. The only sound in the room was that of a hand landing on flesh.
After a couple of dozen swats fell, Dean stopped and rested his hand on Krissy's burning upper thigh. She sighed in relief, hoping it was over. Her hopes were dashed, though, when Dean spoke.
"Tell me why you're getting this spanking, Krissy."
She swallowed hard. "I lied to you, stole money from you, and put myself in danger by taking an Uber to that tattoo parlor," she said into the pillow. Between the tears in her voice and the pillow, Dean could barely understand what she said.
"Your actions were serious, so they deserve serious consequences. I don't want to ever have to have this conversation with you again." Dean paused. He had debated with himself about how he was going to handle this next part. He fully believed that what Krissy had done merited his belt on her bare ass, but at the angle he had her he would be able to see everything. His intention was to teach her to think before she did anything like that again, not humiliate her. Plus, the thought of it made him feel like a dirty old man. So, instead, he pulled the waistband of her underwear up and the leg openings over until they were bunched up between her butt cheeks. He figured it wasn't very comfortable for her, but it allowed her to retain some of her dignity.
"No, Dean. I really get it," Krissy cried, lowering the pillow so she could be heard. "I promise I won't do any of it again. I swear." She had a good idea of what was about to happen, and she wanted to avoid it at all costs.
"I'm going to make sure of that," Dean said as he brought his belt down hard on the middle of her backside. Krissy squealed at the stripe of burning fire that was left behind. She'd barely had time to register it before another stripe was laid down just below the first. Dean repeated the pattern down her backside, over her sensitive sit spots, and across the tops of her thighs. "You do not lie to me." A half dozen hard licks with the belt fell across the middle of her butt. Krissy was now sobbing so hard she could barely catch her breath. "You do not steal from me or anyone else." Another half dozen hard licks fell across her sit spots. "You do not put yourself in unnecessary danger." Again, a half dozen licks fell over her upper thighs.
"Am I completely understood?" Dean asked as he laid the belt across her backside and studied the results of the whipping he'd just delivered. He winced when he realized that she was most likely going to be sporting a few marks for the next day or two. "I asked you a question, I expect you to answer it," he said, silently begging her to respond so he could stop.
When several seconds went by and the only response from Krissy was a few sobs, he reluctantly raised the belt again. "Do. You. Under. Stand?" Each word was punctuated with a lick from the belt.
"Yesss," Krissy sobbed out. She didn't think she would be able to take much more. Her ass was on fire, and she didn't think she was ever going to be able to sit down again.
Dean hid his sigh of relief as he tossed his belt onto the bed. "I hope so, because if I have to repeat this discussion, what you just got will seem like a cake walk compared to what you will catch."
"Yes, sir," Krissy whispered. She, too, was relieved that the ordeal seemed to be over.
Dean released his hold on her and began rubbing her back to comfort her as she worked to get herself back under control. When she moved to get up, he reached down and stripped her jeans the rest of the way off. They had pooled around her feet, and he figured she wouldn't want to wear them. He also straightened her underwear before helping her to her feet, watching as the reddened, inflamed skin jumped at the touch of the thin elastic band.
When she was steady on her feet, Dean stood and pulled her into his arms for a hug. They stood that way for several minutes while Krissy cried into his shirt.
Finally, she took a step back out of his arms and wiped the lingering tears from her face before pulling the tails of her tank and the t-shirt she still wore over down to offer her some coverage. She shuddered as the cool air of the room ghosted across her legs and the exposed heated flesh of her upper thighs.
"Why don't you take a nap?" Dean asked as he picked his belt up from the bed and threaded it back through the loops on the waistband of his jeans. "You could probably use it."
Krissy nodded and turned toward the bed. She looked up from turning down the sheets and saw that Dean was about to step through the open doorway. "Am I grounded?" she asked.
"Not from me you aren't. You've paid the price for your actions, and I've forgiven you. But, you're on your own with Sammy."
He watched as Krissy paled at the thought of what his brother might have planned for her. He might have to talk to Sammy about giving her another day or two to recover from this ass busting before she was subjected to another one, he thought as he exited the room and closed the door behind himself.
XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX
Krissy opened her door slightly and listened for any sound that might tell her where Sam and Dean were in the bunker. She'd had an idea about how to relieve some of the lingering discomfort in her backside, but she wasn't sure either of the brothers would let her carry it out if they caught her.
She opened her door further and stepped out into the hallway, still listening for any noise that might alert her to the others' presence. Once she reached the kitchen, she sighed in relief to find it empty. Not wanting to linger and increase the risk of getting caught, Krissy quickly went to one of the cabinets and grabbed a large drinking glass. She then went to the freezer and filled it with ice cubes. She figured that at this point, if she got caught, she'd claim she'd wanted the ice to chew on.
Moments later, she slipped back into her room and closed the door. She let out a little nervous laugh at her relief in not being spotted by Sam or Dean. After putting the glass of ice on the nightstand beside her bed, she went over to her clothes hamper and pulled out a recently used towel. It was still slightly damp, but she thought that would only help transfer the cold from the ice to her inflamed skin and muscles.
She folded the towel in half and poured the ice over a section of it before folding the towel over again to make a compress. She laid it on the bed near her pillow and laid down on her stomach. It took a bit of careful maneuvering, but she managed to lay the icy compress over the seat of her loose pajama pants so that it rested against her backside and thighs. She sighed in relief at the instant comfort brought by the damp coolness.
Smiling at her ingenuity, she propped herself up on her elbows and grabbed the book she'd been reading from her nightstand. She was going to have to keep this in mind for the future, as she was sure she was going to need it again - especially after Sam got a hold of her in a few days.
TBC