Page 34 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

When she feels ready to support herself, she unbuckles the seatbelt, allowing herself to fall onto the steering wheel. She maneuvers her legs through the opening of the door as the wind whips snow into her face, briefly giving her pause on her course of action.

Hallie drops the few feet down from the car to the ditch below. The thick snow cushions her fall, yet her ankle twists uncomfortably under her as gravity drops her faster than she’d like. Within seconds, she feels the bite of the snow seeping through her jeans, covering her body with cold wetness. She knows she needs to move fast, not just to keep her body heat up, but she can’t remain exposed to the elements for long. A pang of pain shoots through her forehead, pounding behind her eyes. She suspects the newest pain is courtesy of the bump forming on her head from connecting with the steering wheel.

She takes her frustration out on the surrounding forest by screaming at the top of her lungs. “God-damn it, what the hell is next?” She regrets it immediately when fresh pain shoots through her forehead.

Climbing up the ditch embankment comes next. Her boots slip on the incline, forcing her to make several attempts at clawing through the brush until she finds enough handholds in nearby bushes to pull herself up. Her breathing is heavy from exertion by the time she finally arrives back up at the dark road. Without the benefit of moonlight or even crappy car headlights, it is eerily black, yet oddly serene. The sound of the naughty deer who’d caused this whole turn of events draws her attention as the buck prances off into the forest as if nothing had happened. She’s relieved she at least doesn’t need to add the guilt of killing the deer to her already depressing evening.

Hallie takes a moment to brush off as much snow as possible, before heading off in the direction of Eagle’s Pass. The going is slow through the deep snow and she wishes another car would come along so she could try to hitch a ride, but she’s not hopeful this late at night. As the adrenaline rush of her crash wears off, she becomes more aware of the ache in her ankle.

It has to be twenty minutes before she gets to an opening in the trees large enough to see the lights of town again. She can no longer feel her toes by the time she reaches the sign welcoming her to Eagle’s Pass. As luck would have it, the first thing she comes to is a huge park. She knows the kids of the town must have a blast on all the playground equipment when the weather was more cooperative than at the present moment. Exhaustion threatens and Halle has to dig deep to keep her cold feet moving forward.

As late as it is, she’s relieved that at least a few houses still have lights on, giving her hope her aunt may still be up when she arrives. There is just enough dim light from a park light for her to check her aunt’s return address from last year’s Christmas card. When she arrives at the first street sign, it seems her eyes are playing tricks on her as she reads Spanking Loop. Who names a street Spanking Loop?

There is only one direction to turn, and that leads her directly into the wind. The lump on her head is pounding. She is shaking from head to toe, forcing herself to move forward. She can see streetlights lining up in a row ahead of her, making it clear there are many blocks to walk ahead, not even sure if any of them will be her aunt’s street. Tears threaten as she realizes how precarious her position is. What is she supposed to do? Walk up and down the streets of the town, aimlessly walking through the snow until she finds her aunt’s street? If only her cell phone hadn’t died, she could Google the address.

As much as she hates it, she may just need to stop at one of the houses with lights on to ask for directions.

Traci appears in the open great room at the fifteen-minute mark on the dot. Troy had been watching the time, hoping he wasn’t going to have to go to her room to collect her. Now that he’s had a few minutes to calm down, he’s having second thoughts about if he’s doing the right thing in disciplining his sister. She is a grown woman, after all, and by anyone’s standard a very successful, independent woman at that.

In the end, he’s decided to proceed with her spanking for two fundamental reasons. First and foremost, she absolutely made major errors in judgment tonight, putting herself and others at risk. If endangering her personal safety doesn’t warrant a punishment, nothing else ever could.

Second, and more importantly, Troy is coming to the conclusion that Traci chose to live and practice in Eagle’s Pass for a very good reason. It’s clear she subscribes to the premise of the community. Troy suspects her uncharacteristic funk is, at least in part, due to her failure to find her own someone special to share the kind of intimate relationship with that she had witnessed in their parent’s marriage. Considering Troy has recently come to the same realization of what is missing in his own life, he thinks he has a pretty good idea of how the rest of the night needs to play out. While it may seem unsettling to find himself in the position of Traci’s disciplinarian, he knows she needs him to play the role of her (HoH). Dad would do it if he were here. Tonight, the responsibility falls to Troy.

Their eyes meet as Traci approaches tentatively. Her shoulder-length hair is still damp, fresh out of the shower. He stifles a smile when he realizes she’s wearing a floor-length, heavy flannel gown. He suspects she’s trying to put as much padding as possible between her tush and the dreaded hairbrush.

Troy is sitting at the eat-in kitchen island. As she nears, he can see so many emotions as they parade across his sister’s face. Guilt and embarrassment are there, but the emotion Troy hates to see the most is her fear. He needs to wipe the fear away and pronto. Troy stands and crosses to meet her, wrapping her in a big bear hug. A stifled sob escapes his sister as she clings to him for support.

“I really am so sorry, Troy. I don’t know what came over me. Now that the alcohol is wearing off, I can hardly believe I was so stupid.”

Hugging her tight, Troy reassures her. “It sure as hell isn’t like you at all, at least not the Traci I know. That’s why I know something is really wrong.” Pulling back so he can see her eyes, Troy presses his sister for answers. “What’s this really about, Trace? I’ve noticed the last few months you seem to be in a bit of a funk.”

The answer flashed in her eyes so fast, and then was gone. She’s good at hiding her emotions. Troy knows even if she won’t open up tonight, he needs to get her to talk about what’s wrong at some point this weekend.

The continued silence is deafening. They need to stop stalling. Taking his sister by the hand and reaching for the backless barstool with his other hand, Troy moves to the center of the open space, putting the high chair front and center. Understanding his plan, Traci tugs at his hand in a failed attempt to move away. “It’s time, Traci. Let’s get this over with. I want you to lean over the stool and hold onto the lowest rung.” Troy pulls her forward and helps her move into the embarrassing position he’s sure she hadn’t planned on at the start of her evening.

The stool is the perfect height to rest her flat stomach against as she reaches for the wooden rung near the floor. Her toes are just able to touch the floor as her legs jut out away from the tall chair. He sees her grab onto the wood, hanging on for dear life. He hears her slight squeal when she feels her brother lifting the heavy flannel gown up and over her back, displaying her granny-style panties. He’s thankful she can’t see his smile at her veiled attempt at modesty.

Pushing aside the awkwardness of seeing his sister in such a precarious position, Troy moves to stand next to the stool. Taking a deep breath, he begins Traci’s warm-up spanking, delivering a steady stream of swats across her bottom.

Unpleasant memories of a similar night just over a year before surface, and Troy works to tamp them down. Tonight is about his sister, not Kathy. Spending time remembering what wasn’t meant to be is no use. He’d wasted enough time trying to make her and their relationship into something it wasn’t. More importantly, what it never could be. Kathy had made that abundantly clear the night of her first… and last… punishment at his hand. She probably still thinks he broke up with her because he liked spanking more than he loved her. An assumption which had proved to Troy she really had no clue what domestic discipline was really all about in the first place.

The warm-up is light, allowing brother and sister to each slip into this new familial dynamic. With each passing smack of his flat hand to her pantie-covered bottom, Troy’s resolve strengthens. Traci needs this. To absolve her of her guilt. To guide her to better choices next time. To keep her safe. The swats are coming faster… harder.

Without changing his delivery pace, he knows it’s time for the lecture. “All right, Traci. Why are you being punished tonight?”

Traci answers after the briefest of pauses. Her voice strained. “Because I was irresponsible. I put myself and others at risk by drinking and driving.”

“Very good. And what else?” He follows up his question with a flurry of harder swats to her sit spot.

“Ouch, Troy! That hurts!”

“Yep. That’s the point. Why else, Trace?”

It takes her longer to answer this one. Her voice so soft, he almost misses her surprising reply. “Because I acted like a slut. I was lonely and hadn’t been out on a date in so long that I didn’t care who I met anymore.”

Troy is surprised at her candor, rewarding it with ten fast and furious heavy smacks. “You need to respect yourself and your body, young lady. You are important to me and to a lot of other people. It is completely unacceptable to put yourself in so much danger with a stranger who could have done anything to you had I not been here.” He keeps up the heavy pace as her breathing gets heavy as if she’s working hard not to burst out crying.

“Please. Troy. It won’t happen again. I promise. I was just lonely.”

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