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I couldn’t do this.
I pulled my arm out of his grasp. He let me go and I said nothing as I fled the room. I didn’t know where else to go so I ran up to my room and threw myself on my bed. I laid there for a while as the tipsy feeling from those two shots faded away. Before long, the only things in my head were an endless series of questions that refused to stop.
What would happen if I went back down there? Would he really spank me? Did he actually care enough to do something like that? How would it happen? Would he spank me over my nightshirt? Over my panties or would he bare my bottom so that he could see it as he punished me? Would he use his hand? His belt?
I rolled face down and pressed my face into my pillow, screaming into it so that I muffled my frustration. That didn’t make me feel better either.
Eventually, I picked myself up and washed off my face. I slipped off my dress and pulled a soft nightshirt over my head. I stood there for a while, looking in the mirror and trying to decide my next move.
If I went down there, I had a feeling everything would change.
But I really needed to know if he cared.
So I did.
