2 | Defiance Discipline Dream Repeat

44 A Constant Struggle M/F - Sophia's POV

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"Little Soph!"

When I hear Sebastian call for me outside my room, I take off my headphones and pause the TV show I watch in bed. "What?" I scan him critically, standing on the threshold. The mistrustful look is nothing new to me, but as I haven't done anything worthy of suspicion, I am confused by it.

"Where are Harry's slippers?" he articulates ever-so-slowly and monotonously.

"I hid them months ago but told you where, and since then, I haven't touched or even seen them," I answer truthfully, and his suspicion seems to fade markedly - faster than I expected. "I stuck them underneath your mattress."

"Yes, and I took and hid them after that, but they are no longer there or anywhere else,'' he says. ''I've combed through the entire house.''

"That's strange, but I swear on everything, I haven't hidden them since that last time," I promise. ''You can search my room if you clean up after yourself, but you won't find them.''

"Do you believe it's him, and he's just messing with me?"

"I honestly have no clue," I yawn. ''One episode more, and then I will get ready for bed."

''Right, can I watch it with you?''

''Are you gonna be creepy?''

''No, I'm not a creep.''

''It doesn't go a day without you slapping my ass.''

''That's not creepy. That's a form of showing affection instead of kisses like you detest,'' he claims. ''It catches your attention, too.''

''Yeah, you are very much an attention whore,'' I unleash the sass I'm not allowed to at school.

''Says the brat,'' his riposte is rather light-hearted than admonishing. And it's not hard to guess what's coming next for me when he marches up to my bed.

My cheeks start to warm up, butterflies quickly develop and tickle inside my belly, and I shrink a bit into my mattress. ''How am I seeking attention, minding my own business in my bedroom?'' I welcome him onto my bed with backchat, frowning slightly at him, as he snatches a cushion to slide between his back and the headboard.

''It's a rare occasion.''

I whine and reach when he grabs and lifts my laptop across his legs to the other side - the nightstand. I realise too late that this is what he wanted - he clasps my arm and tugs me, toppling me across his lap. I'm making it ridiculously easy for him tonight, and that skyrockets the pre-existing embarrassment in me. ''No, that wasn't fair!'' I squeal.

''Work smart, not harder,'' he remarks smugly, finding his secure hold on my writhing body. ''You're not sleeping in those joggers, are you?''

I throw my head up to squeak, ''Yes!'' before I let my hot face plunge back into my pillow.

''No, they will give you a heat stroke at night.''

Letting my upper body lie like a dead fish, I shift my force to my legs, flapping and twisting them to make it a challenge for him to pull my joggers off. Despite all the times in this position, I haven't learned that it's to no avail - not even when he holds me firmly in place and brings his palm down hard enough to take my breath away. I refuse to believe and accept that I am powerless and that he's stronger than me.

And if he gets to snigger and utter withering comments about me wriggling and gasping across his knee bare-bottomed and helplessly, I think I should get to backchat without earning myself more smacks. ''I should get to hit you for the mocking!''

''No. You are an unmindful brat who wouldn't be able to handle any authority even if it was given to you–''

''I can just hit you!''

''Brats do not hit their superiors. That goes against the law of the universe.''

''You cringe me out!'' I whine, his smug chuckle irritating me so much that I prefer to concentrate on the swift smacks... Soon, I am to begin flapping my legs again as the heat turns into pain and starts to bother me. ''You're so mean!''

''You always think I'm mean.''

''Yeah, maybe you should do something about that.''

He pauses, but I'm no longer as naive as to believe it's over. It's not. I'm kept in this unladylike position for him to admire his own mean deed, snickering at my futile escape attempts. ''...Yeah, like spanking you daily until you remember to curb your tongue,'' he muses.

Yeah, good luck with that. I roll my eyes at the pillow while switching the sides as my boiling face has warmed it up unpleasantly. ''How's caning Oliver's banter and backchat out of him going?''

My tone is shamelessly sassier than it should be for someone in my terribly shameful position. This might be something I will never learn or accept, either.

''I'm starting to think that he has some genetic untreatable condition since his dad and grandad are the same,'' he says. ''You, on the other hand, I can regulate your mood and behaviour sufficiently with spankings, and your mouth has become milder, too.''

The pause abruptly ends, surprising me. ''That's offensive!'' I squeak.

The burn that had started to ease is quickly coming back and becoming worse than before, and I begin to whimper like... I don't even know. Like Zander when he gets the brush. ''...I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to call you an attention-whore.''

I kind of did and kind of didn't. It wasn't intentional and just slipped out, although I didn't regret it and laughed at it internally. Now, though, I feel like I should've said that comment in my head, too, and not out loud.

''Keeping your mouth in control is a constant struggle,'' he punctuates with one last smack, goading a pitiable squeak from me.

You do not understand the urge I have to backchat now. ''We all come with struggles,'' I mumble.

''Yeah, it's time to get ready for bed now,'' he murmurs. My body is spun around to lie on my back and look up at him - literally, the last thing I want to do. ''Your pale face caught some colour,'' and there you have the reason why I don't want to face anybody. I bite my tongue hard, not to be spun right back around for a second spanking. ''I will ask you one last time, did you have anything to do with the missing slippers?''

''No, I promise...'' I sigh. '''But what if it's Leo? Did he ever return our keys after the week you went on that teacher course?''

His self-satisfied face overshadows with anxiety at my question, and he squeezes my hand tighter as he broods over it. ''I will look into it if you go and brush your teeth.''