Long Time Coming
Author’s Introduction
The idea for this story came to me vaguely a few days ago. I was thinking about how, when I feel very strong negative emotions, I can’t back down on my own, but I really yearn for someone to put me down. And so the idea developed of someone (I pictured myself at age 15) who is being very stubborn, knowing it, wanting to find a way out of it, knowing she’s treating her friends badly, but not being able to stop herself. The built up stress from years of this… feeling trapped, out of control. And then, having her best friend understand what she’s feeling, and helping her out of her misery.
This story contains the use of an electrical cord as an implement, so please be careful if this is upsetting for you. It really had to be a severe beating because of the enormity of the emotional release… like a dam breaking.
Thanks to GD, DG and HAL for proofreading, and to HAL for having me as a guest writer on her own blog.
The Story
“Don’t be so childish!”
Those few words made Lana see red. It was one of those phrases she especially hated. Slowly, she looked up at her two friends, Maryanne and Gretchen. It was Gretchen who had spoken, and it was to her that Lana addressed her response.
“I’ll show you childish!” she spat, pushing the cards away from her. “I quit. You win. I’m not playing anymore.” Gretchen looked back with equal intensity. “The game doesn’t work with two people. We need three.” “Play another game, then.” Lana suggested grumpily. “One that’s suitable for adults!”
“Um, guys?” Maryanne interrupted, trying to break the locking of horns that was inflaming before her. “We could just play a different game?” “Do that!” spat Lana, with surprising intensity. She quickly rose from the table and stamped off into the bathroom. Leaning over the basin, Lana felt the rage boiling inside her. She knew it wasn’t good for her, but there wasn’t a lot she could do about it. They didn’t understand. No one understood. No one ever could understand. They’d hate her if they did.
To her side, she heard the door open and then close, and she looked round. It was only then she realised that her face was wet with tears. Maryanne leaned against the door, holding a thick electrical cable in one of her hands. Her arms were crossed, and her face was hard.
Lana immediately gave her a sneer. “Why aren’t you out there with your friend?” “Why aren’t you?” countered Maryanne. Lana snorted, and crossed her arms to match Maryanne’s stance. “You clearly don’t want me.” “That was uncalled for.” Maryanne stated clearly and evenly, though Lana could tell she was also a little angry. “What, from a child?” “From anyone” Maryanne replied, just as evenly, and slightly coldly. “You know what my mother would do if I spoke to her like that?”
Lana paused, before nodding slowly. Maryanne’s mother was something that wasn’t discussed. While everyone was spanked when they were young, Mrs Stanton was unusual in that she still spanked Maryanne, even though she was pushing 16. Lana had actually seen it happen once, but she and Maryanne had an unspoken agreement; never discuss it. It was this agreement that Maryanne had just violated. Before she could stop herself, Lana’s eyes wandered to the electrical cable in her best friend’s hand. A thousand images flashed through her mind, as Maryanne spoke again.
“You’re long overdue for a damn good beating.” Lana heard it as if it were spoken a thousand miles away. Maryanne said something else, but Lana didn’t hear it. She was in a daze as she felt her best friend’s hands guide her over the bench. “Is she really going to spank me?” she thought. “With a jug cord, no less? Is this even real? Is my best friend really going to do this?” She felt a hand rest softly on her back. She was still angry, but it was like she couldn’t move. It couldn’t be real.
The first stroke she’d received in five years impacted against the seat of her tracksuit pants. Pain shot through her, sharp and high pitched. She must have reached round, for the next thing she felt was Maryanne gripping her wrist tightly, wrenching her arm behind her back. Another wave of pain, and she scrabbled for the edge of the bench with her free arm. She wouldn’t shame herself. She wouldn’t let her best friend see her cry like this. Pain again, and her fingers squeezed the edge of the bench. Pain, and she struggled against the grip on her left wrist. Pain, and still she struggled. Pain. Pain. Tears began to flow, and suddenly she couldn’t stop herself anymore. More pain. She began to sob uncontrollably, while what little was left of her anger drained away. Pain. Maryanne wasn’t deterred, and she continued as ever. Pain. She begged Maryanne to stop, sobbing about how sorry she was. Pain.
After what seemed like forever, Maryanne finally did stop. Lana pulled free and collapsed in a heap in the corner next to the bath. She was still crying just as much as she was during the spanking, and her bottom hurt so badly. She half heard, half smelt Maryanne sit down beside her, but she didn’t look. Everything was so different. When her best friend wrapped her arms around her, she cried even harder, leaning into her embrace.
It was some time before she stopped crying, and got her nerves together enough to ask Maryanne the single question she’d been wondering about; “Why?” “Because I could see you badly needed it, Laan” Maryanne responded, giving her a loving squeeze at the same time. “I knew you’d feel better afterwards”. Lana stopped to consider. Maryanne was right. She felt safe, for the first time in… how long… “I do!” she responded, looking straight into her best friend’s eyes, feeling… God knows what she was feeling. “I feel as if everything is going to be alright!”
Maryanne smiled. “Don’t say anything to Gretchen” she said, in a semi whisper. “She’ll have heard it, but she won’t mention it if you don’t.” And even though she was suddenly extremely embarrassed, Lana felt better than she had in very long time.