Disciplining Little Abby (15 page)

“I think it looks fine on her,” her father said, earning himself a sharp glare from his wife.

“Well, I think it looks like something from a pedophile’s dirty fantasy,” her mother snapped. “Thirty-two years old and wearing things meant for children. The fact that you encourage it greatly concerns me, Mr. Anderson.”

“It’s Antonopoulos, Mom,” Abby blurted out, but her mother wasn’t listening.

“I’m still waiting for an apology for your behavior the last time you were here, Mallory Dawn,” she snapped, “so don’t you start correcting me at my own table. It’s bad enough you insist on behaving like a spoiled child, but now you bring this… this tattooed, dirty-haired grease monkey to our home?”

“He’s not a dirty grease monkey!” Abby yelled.

Chris squeezed her leg again, but he knew she wasn’t going to stop. She’d sat still all she could, and now she was going to blow.

“He owns that shop and several others. His bikes sell for thousands and thousands of dollars! He’s got an MBA! What do you have that gives you the right to treat him like that?”

“Abby, go outside now,” Chris ordered in a low voice. Before she could argue further, he stood up and pulled her seat back. “Go now.” Throwing her hands in the air, Abby stomped out of the dining room.

“They’re called dreadlocks, and they’re not dirty!” she yelled from down the hall. Chris remained standing, silent, until he heard the front door slam. Outwardly he appeared calm, but inside, the anger that had been simmering since he first spotted Abby’s mother and older sister sizing her up earlier now threatened to boil over. His fingers itched to turn both of them over his knee and paddle them until they begged for forgiveness. Instead he had to settle for grabbing his and Abby’s chair and pushing them back in place against the table.

“When Abby asked me to come with her today, I told her I would do it on one condition,” he said, struggling to keep his voice even. “I’m not a fool. I’m aware she acts out when she’s upset. My condition was that she be respectful and remember that she was a guest in your home. She promised me she would—”

Eva interrupted him with a snort. “Like that would ever happen. Mallory lives to cause a scene.”

“From where I’m standing, Abby isn’t the problem,” he growled, and was gratified to see Eva shrink back in her seat. “You two would make a priest swear. From the moment we got here, you’ve gone out of your way to antagonize and belittle her. And me, but frankly I don’t give a damn what the pair of you think about me. All I care about is Abby, and after seeing how you two treat her, it’s no wonder she’s so insecure.” He gestured at the room as he went on. “All because she doesn’t blend in with your idea of how she needs to live her life.”

Elizabeth Joan’s face was flushed as she pushed herself back from the table and stood up. Her eyes flashed angrily as she threw her napkin on her barely touched salad. “I care about Mallory too, Mr. Anderson,” she snapped. “More than you can imagine. And since we’re being so frank, let me make myself perfectly clear. Mallory insists on dressing and acting like a child. She is a grown woman who refuses to grow up. That is
not
normal, and for the life of me, I cannot understand why she is that way, but I do understand this: there is only one kind of man who is attracted to little girls, and men like that are sick, twisted perverts. That is exactly what I think about you.”

“
Mother
!” Julia gasped, and from behind him Chris could hear Mr. Willis plead with his wife to be quiet, but Elizabeth Joan was on a roll. “Just look at you,” she hissed. “I don’t care if you own a hundred motorcycle shops or have a degree from Princeton. You’re just some sick bastard using my daughter to fulfil his dirty pedophile fantasies without the risk of going to jail. You make me sick! When I think of you with her—” Her hand flew to her mouth and for a moment she looked away as she breathed deeply. When her eyes returned to him, they were hard and full of hate. “As long as she has you to enable her immaturity, she will never lead a normal adult life, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit by and let that happen!” With that, she spun around and ran out.

No one spoke. Even Eva was shocked into silence. Chris couldn’t believe the fury he’d seen in her eyes, the raw hatred she’d shown him. Was it because he’d stood up to her? It seemed clear to him she had issues that went far beyond her daughter wearing age-inappropriate clothes.

He turned towards Julia and Mr. Willis. “I just wanted to thank you both for welcoming me into your home,” he said in a tight voice. “It was very nice meeting you.” He patted Julia on the shoulder and gave a nod to Mr. Willis, then left to join Abby outside.

* * *

Abby swiped her hand across her eyes and cursed under her breath. She’d tried, really tried, but when her mother called Chris a mangy biker, she’d lost control. Her mother had said some mean things over the years, but that was a nasty thing to say, even for her.

Twisting her new bracelet around, she smiled at the cheerful Hello Kitty face on the side. “He stood up for me,” she whispered to the pink crystal kitten face. She heard the front door slam and turned to see Chris heading towards her. A few seconds later Julia burst through the door and ran after him, apologizing profusely.

“What happened?” Abby asked nervously. Julia’s eyes were red, and she could see Chris clenching his jaw. “I’m sorry, I know I promised I would be nice but—”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said tersely as he quickly straddled the bike and motioned for her to get on. Julia stepped back while Abby climbed on back, then moved beside them and placed a hand on one of the handlebars.

“She didn’t mean it,” she told Chris, but they both knew it was a lie. Abby’s mother meant every word she’d said. “Thank you for standing up for my sister.” Julia reached over to hug Abby. “You know Daddy and I love you, and we think you’re awesome no matter where you work or what you wear. Or who you bring home,” she added with a giggle.

Chris turned the engine over and the bike roared to life. Abby gave her little sister one last hug, then wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his jacket.

“Spill it, girlfriend.”

Abby jumped to find Amanda standing next to her desk and staring intently at her. She’d been too lost in her own thoughts to notice her coworker had come over.

“Sorry, mind wandered.”

“I’ll say. You looked a million miles away. What’s up, fantasizing about that gorgeous creature you’re dating?”

Abby laughed but averted her eyes. She
had
been thinking about Chris and the times they’d had together, but she wasn’t sure she’d call it fantasizing. Ever since the disastrous dinner at her parents’ house, she’d felt out of sync. Everything seemed to annoy her, and she found herself going out of her way to irritate those around her, so much so that people at work were visibly avoiding her. Even Amanda had been a little wary of her lately.

But the worst part was that she found herself deliberately provoking Chris, and more often than not her insubordination earned her a spanking. It was as if she couldn’t help herself. They’d be having a good time playing a game or watching a movie, when out of the blue she’d say something mean or rude. Most of the time he overlooked it, but there’d been a few times she’d kept it up until at last he turned her over his knee and spanked her until she cried.

And yet she kept doing it. If someone had come to her after the gas station incident and told her she’d start deliberately doing things to provoke Chris into spanking her, she would have laughed in their face. Or slapped them. She would have said there was no way she’d ever do anything to warrant a spanking.

As she was beginning to realize, she would have been so very wrong.

The first time she’d done it had been the Sunday after the dinner at her parents’ house. They were at the park sitting on a bench watching people go by when out of the blue, Abby made a rude comment about an unfortunately homely child. She didn’t even know why she made it; it just popped out. Chris had scolded her about being mean, but to her surprise, she found herself saying something even uglier. Even as her eyes widened at what she’d said, she found herself sharply watching him to see what his reaction would be.

She didn’t have to wait long. He quickly snatched her up from the bench by her arm and marched her straight to his bike, where he administered three quick swats to her behind. In public. The humiliation she felt when three young girls burst into giggles as they spied her being spanked was nothing compared to the rush of excitement that flooded her veins… or the wetness that flooded between her legs. From that moment on, she found herself testing his boundaries to see just what it would take to get spanked.

It wasn’t until afterwards as she lay in bed trying to go to sleep that she questioned why she went out of her way to orchestrate her own humiliation. Without fail, her bad behavior arose when they were in public—a sure guarantee that someone would witness her inevitable spanking. Regardless of how stern the spanking was, the sight of some stranger’s shock or disapproval as they witnessed her shame made her pussy groan and beg for more. Recently she’d begun to seek out their gaze, locking eyes with them as she squealed from the impact of his hand against her bottom, and it was such an incident the night before that had her lost in her thoughts at work now.

“Now’s the part where you give me salacious details.”

Abby shook her head vigorously. “Oh no, some things are best kept private.”

“And I thought we were friends.” Amanda leaned against the cubical wall and smirked. “Don’t you understand you’re supposed to tell your single, dateless friends all the details so they can live vicariously through you?”

Abby leaned back in her chair and sighed. Something in her expression alerted Amanda that all might not be well, and her smile quickly faded.

“Is everything okay between you two?”

The genuine concern in her voice broke down Abby’s carefully guarded walls, and with a deep breath she shook her head. “I—I don’t know. It’s a rollercoaster. One minute we’re up, the next I’m grabbing onto the bar and wishing it would just stop.” She raised her eyes to meet Amanda’s sympathetic gaze. “It’s just going so fast! I know it’s been a few months, but my God, Amanda… the things…” Her voice trailed off. Abby had enough trouble admitting to herself the things she’d let Chris do to her. She wasn’t ready to spill the details of her relationship with Chris. Amanda wouldn’t understand why she had cast away Chris’ hand the night before and deliberately darted out into the street just so she could get a spanking. She certainly wouldn’t understand why Abby willingly laid across Chris’ lap and allowed him to flip her skirt up to reveal little girl panties, or why the visibly aroused man who stopped and watched as Chris gave her twenty sharp swats on her bottom had Abby practically writhing in ecstasy.

“Things are just moving too fast,” Abby finished. “It’s confusing because one minute I think I can’t live without him and another I wonder what the hell I’m doing.”

“Well then, I have just the thing to fix you right up.”

In her mind Abby saw Amanda holding a new enema bag, and it was all she could do not to burst into giggles.

“Girl’s night out. You, me, our sexiest clothes, loud club full of strangers, lots of alcohol.”

Number two, home in bed by midnight unless you’re with me.
Chris’ voice echoed in her head, and she wondered what he’d say about Amanda’s plans that clearly did not include him.

Seeing the hesitation in Abby’s eyes, Amanda quickly grabbed her hands and squeezed. “Hey you,” she said with a conspiratorial grin. “You’re going out with me, and that’s an order.”

“You’re going to get me spanked,” Abby laughed, and Amanda joined in, never realizing how serious Abby was. It occurred to her that a night out on the town might lead to the mother of all spankings, and with a wicked grin, she finally agreed to go.

At Amanda’s insistence, Abby rode home with her and allowed herself to be dressed and brushed and painted. She endured Amanda’s administrations with resignation—until she presented Abby with a pair of stilettos and demanded she put them on.

“No way,” Abby protested. “I’ve never worn anything higher than maybe a couple of inches. I’ll break my ankle in those!”

Amanda wouldn’t back down. Before she knew it, she found herself teetering on the ridiculous silver heels and wondering how anyone walked in them. Her lithe body was tightly sheathed in a black and silver bandage dress, and the padded pushup bra Amanda had insisted she wear had turned her modest breasts into showstoppers. Abby barely recognized the woman staring back at her from the mirror. Her usual ponytails had given way to sleek cascades of black hair that fell just below her shoulders, and the thick bangs had been swept to one side. Heavy black eyeliner had been replaced with smoky shades of grey and charcoal that made her blue eyes pop, and fake lashes had been carefully applied to the outer edges to add drama. But the biggest surprise was the way the dress and heels added a mile to her legs. Accustomed to seeing herself in jeans or skirts with sneakers, Abby couldn’t get over how long and shapely her legs appeared now. She’d been impressed with how they looked in the dress Chris had bought her, but the addition of high heels completely changed the look.

“Oh my gosh, look at me!” she exclaimed as she turned from side to side, admiring the way her legs looked.

“You look like a babe,” Amanda said softly. “What was I thinking? Now I’m going to be the homely friend.”

They left Amanda’s apartment at eleven. Amanda had called a cab, insisting neither one of them would be in any shape to drive home at the end of the night. By the time they arrived at the club, a line was already forming outside. The appreciative looks and smiles as they made their way to the end of the line weren’t lost on Abby, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Chris would be jealous.

As if in response, the phone he’d given her went off in the tiny clutch Amanda had insisted she carry. Abby quickly pulled it out, then stopped before answering. Rule number four was that if the phone rang, she had to answer it, but if she did, he was sure to hear the music coming out of the club and the chatter of the people waiting in line around her. She was already going to be in trouble for staying out past midnight and not getting permission to go out. Did she really want to add not answering his call to the list? Before she could make up her mind, it rolled to voicemail and made the decision for her.