~FAILING IN REVERSE~ (spanking story)

Chapter 2: Blah Blah. Rules and such

When you do not reply, he tenses up beneath you and asks Kamila for her hairbrush–the thick one. You, in turn, tense up at this. You are not sure what to expect, but you know you by no means will like it. Not at all.

Sadly, it takes way too short a timespan for your liking before you feel a cool, hard surface through your boxers. Here goes.

"Y/N, I can't believe that even at this point in the punishment, you refuse to cooperate. Most of my former kids would be doing anything for it to stop. You are one tough cookie. Don't worry, that'll change real soon with you being with us. We are tougher."

You feel like this is going to be forever, and you wonder if you are for sure gonna die. This is your last day. It's gotta be.

Now this feeling you never. Ever. Want to feel again. Getting beat up by three hefty brutes in juvy felt more tolerable than this. You're not entirely sure why either. Perhaps it's the concentration of the pain on a smaller area repeatedly. This is possible. It's now gone from the pain of a thousand scraped knees to the unbearable impact of being run over by a bus, nay, two buses. At least you guess so. But not even this. Not even this is going to make you crack. No way. Not even this.

"That man" seems to forget about making you reply to his questions, and decides to finish up his spiel on the rules. Thankfully, he only has one left. Four. Not too bad, you expect. Easier to break only four rules as opposed to the fifty in jail. Breaking rules is what you do. For science. And for fun.

"Now 'school life.' Yes, school life. You are eighteen, but you haven't graduated high school. Education is very important. In this day and age, education takes you places and lets you see the world beyond the here and now. You'll be getting your GED at the adult learning school just down the street, walking distance since you can't drive yet, as you haven't earned our trust to have your license yet, due to your DUIs. Yes, I'm sure you were wondering that. Chase gave it to us for safe keeping. I'm surprised the cops didn't take it away for how bad your record is. Anyway, grades. This may shock you, but we are more lenient about grades. We understand you've had a hard life and that retaining information quickly may take some practice. I'm not saying you're dumb, because you're not, but we don't want to overwhelm you or make you feel inadequate. Just try your best. That's all. If your best is a D, fair enough, however we would like to see a C or higher, once you've gotten used to school again. Otherwise, we'll supervise you doing your homework and possibly get you a tutor. Fair warning. Oh, by the way, the first two rules of safety and respect apply not only to the home but to every sphere of life. And one more thing, no sphere of work at all. Your job will be becoming a better person while you're with us. Before you leave here though, we'll make sure you have the work ethic of a horse and the responsibility to find yourself a job when the time is right."

He finally takes a pause, from the lecture and the smacking. That means you can finally take a deep breath before shoving your head back into the cushions. You are so thankful he hasn't asked you to respond anymore. You can breathe easier for that fact.

The man breathes out a sigh and rubs your back. You're not sure if you like this reprieve, since you're not used to any sort of affection, and you also wonder if he's done. You surely hope so. "And this is the MOST important thing I need to tell you, kid. Listen up. We may sound harsh, but we do care about you. A lot. We have scrimped and saved our money, resources and love so you can stay with us. We have legally adopted the majority of the kids who have come through our doors, and they have all been the happier for it. We hope the same for you, if you so choose to agree with it later on. Honey, do you wish to say anything?"

A pause.

Then a sweet, pleasant voice. It's refreshing after the gruff lecturing. "Sweetheart, we are so, so, so glad you're here. Ecstatic. We want the best for you and hope you will become a successful, happy adult one day. Until then, I wish you will accept what we offer you, and our love, because we have lots of it. Just ask our other kids when they visit. The blessing here is that you will have all our attention. We only take care of kids one at a time, so we can really help you. We do care about you."

These words of encouragement and warmth are so foreign to you. They are surprising, especially coming from "that man." Perhaps "that man" could have a name, if he earns your trust by sticking to his word that he does care about you. It is promising though, considering that he's followed through with his word on the punishment, even though you hated it greatly. You wonder if maybe he is an honest person, but it could be too early to tell.

You want to be angry at their mean discipline, but you can't help to feel worn out and somewhat touched by their kind words.

Ben continues to rub your back as he begins shushing you. You didn't realize this, but at some point during their big speeches, you had started to break. It was first some sniffles, which grew to whimpers. These whimpers turned to short sobs, then to lengthened wails, wracking your entire body. You can't believe you let yourself be this vulnerable. This exposed in front of people. It's a scary feeling that you want no part of.

You then finally feel your pants being lifted over your rump again, and although it hurts, you are grateful for the coverage again.

When Ben puts you rightside up on the couch, you need to blink in order to see, and what you see are two people, both with soft expressions and compassion in their eyes. This overwhelms you, and you aren't sure what to do. Should you accept their kindness or shun it? You are so conflicted. Part of you feels wracked with total guilt, so much so that you can't hold your gaze upward, and part of you feels the need for that much-craved affection. You don't have the time to make that choice because both Kamila and Ben scooch in beside you, sandwiching you between them, and wrap you in their embrace. Your head begins to droop to the side, slowly letting itself rest on Ben's chest, your face covered in his neck. Your tears sloppily find their way onto his shirt, and your embarrassment peaks. You say sorry repeatedly for this, but Ben says it's okay.

Your eyes eventually drift to a wall in the kitchen, where you see at least twenty different framed photos of kids, all smiling brightly. And then you start to wonder, in small hope, if this could be you someday. You push away the thought though, out of doubt and fear that this may not ever come to pass. You'll screw it up because you always do, and you love the freedom of breaking the rules. You are the badass, after all.

And then your mind goes back to your ass. It's totally one-hundred percent dead. You wonder again if maybe you should broach this topic with your case worker Chase to see if this is indeed legal. But you stuff this away for another day. You're too exhausted for more battles.

You begin to somehow feel safe. For the first time in your life. Protected. Relieved.

The child inside you peaks out and allows you to relax inside your new parents' arms, where you fall asleep to their hums and their lullabies. Even though you're eighteen.

And a badass.