finding her way (spanking story)

Meeting Mr. Warren

June 11th. That was the day everything changed. It was the day my parents abandoned me with him. That all probably sounds super vague, so I'll just start the story.
"What's going on?" I ask, walking into my living room and seeing my parents and a man I do not recognize.
"We need to talk, take a seat." My dad says. I plop down on the couch.
"What do we need to talk about? And who the hell is he?" I ask, pointing at the stranger. I watch the man visibly tense at my tone, but I don't care.
"Pointing is rude, Serena." My stepmom says.
"Mr. Warren is here because we think you need more structure in your life." My dad says.
"What the fuck? I don't need 'structure'. I'm 17 for god's sake." I argue, standing.
"Yes, you do. Now, sit back down Serena Marie, we're not done here." My dad says, his tone leaves no room for argument.
"I think we are." I turn to leave, but I feel a strong hand wrap around my bicep. I am forced back down on the couch, not very gently might I add. I look up with a glare, only to be met by the equally fierce glare of Mr. Warren.
"Don't touch me." I growl.
"Don't act like a brat." He replies. I glance at my parents, hoping they'll come to my defense. Instead, my stepmom avoids my look and my dad just shrugs.
"You have been disrespectful to me and your mother too long without any repercussions. So, you are going to live with Mr. Warren until you learn to be a respectful young woman. You will live at his house in Brookhaven and not go anywhere without his consent."
"That's unfair. It's the summer before my senior year of high school. I'll miss out on everything if I'm two hours away in fucking Brookhaven."
"Enough with the foul language." Mr. Warren says, his tone makes me flinch.
"Fuck. You." I yell. Mr. Warren visibly tenses.
"Mr. and Mrs. King, Serena and I should leave soon as it will be getting dark soon." Mr. Warren addresses my parents. I feel myself getting more and more frustrated with this guy. Who the fuck does he think he is?
"Yes. All of her things are in your car right?" Mr. Warren nods.
"You're shipping me off with a stranger? You hate me that much?" I say, letting a tear fall. I feel betrayed by my parents. I don't feel bad about leaving if they really don't care. They think I'm a problem and I'm hard to deal with so they're passing me off on someone else.
"No, sweetie. We just want what's best for you." My stepmom says and I roll my eyes.
"I'm ready to go." I say, standing to leave.
"Don't you want to say goodbye to your parents?" Mr. Warren asks.
"My parents?" I scoff. I glance at my stepmom and dad once more before walking away. I follow Mr. Warren out to his car. He opens the passenger door for me, shutting it once I'm inside the car. He walks around to the other side and gets in. The car we're in is very nice, it's some sort of BMW. I sit back in my seat and process everything that happened. I can't believe my parents did that.
"Are you okay?" Mr. Warren questions.
"What do you think?" I ask, glancing at him.
"There is no need for you to be rude, I was simply wondering if you're alright."
"Sorry, I'm not in the mood to talk about it."
"I understand, but you'll need to accept it." He replies.
"I don't understand why this is happening." I sigh.
"Your parents are worried about you."
"Why did they contact you?"
"I have a reputation."
"A reputation for what?"
"Teaching respect."
"What does that even mean? You do like manners lessons?" I giggle, thinking back to my cotillion. That was quite the shitshow.
"No, I teach through discipline."
"Discipline?"
"Yes,"
"What does that mean?"
"Here," He removes an envelope from his suit coat pocket and hands it over to me, "Read this, it's the contract your parents signed."
I instruct children who lack discipline and respect. I teach them how to act in society. Until I believe they have learned how to be proper members of society, the child will live with me on my estate. I will devote my time to the child's education. There will be no contact between parent and child throughout their training. They will follow my rules and receive consequences of my choosing for broken rules. The rules are simple:
No lying
No running away
No cursing
No arguing
Show respect to everyone
No breaking the law
No self-harm (ex. cutting, skipping meals, skipping sleep)
Listen the first time
Ask permission for everything (ex. leaving the table after a meal, staying up past set bedtime)
Bedtime is 10:00 on weekdays, 11:00 on weekends unless otherwise specified
Punishments most frequently include spanking, timeout, extra chores, grounding, etc. By signing this contract, you are allowing me to discipline your child as I see fit.
At the bottom, I notice both the signature of my mother and my father.
"You're going to spank me? Isn't that a little kinky?" I say with a snort.
"Not the way I do it." He replies.
"How old are you anyways?" I look over at Mr. Warren, he can't be over 30. He looks mid twenties.
"It is none of your concern."
"If you think you're going to touch my ass, I should know how old you are." He raises an eyebrow at me, seemingly amused by my words.
"Most girls are not as accepting of the fact that I use spanking as a means of discipline."
"I just think you're not getting any, so you need to take your sexual frustration out in some way."
"I assure you, the reason I discipline by spanking is not because 'I'm not getting any'."
"Oh, so you're just a pervert."
"Serena, I would suggest you stop talking, otherwise you will be receiving your first spanking very soon." The tone of his voice makes me feel small and intimidated, so I decide not to push it. We sit in silence for the remainder of the car ride. I was forced to leave my phone with my parents, so I just look out the window the entire time.
The car slows as we approach a large black gate. Mr. Warren presses a button on his phone and the gates swing open. We proceed up the driveway for at least a mile before the house comes into view. Did I say house? I meant mansion. This honestly doesn't seem real. I mean my parents shipping me off with some stranger to teach me a lesson. It seems more like a nightmare.
"I've been lenient so far, but as soon as we step foot out of this car the rules shall be in full effect. Do you understand?" Mr. Warren says, after stopping the car in front of the house.
I simply nod in response.
"An unwritten rule is that I always require a verbal answer, and I expect that answer to be followed by 'sir'. Now, let's try again, do you understand?" He repeats.
"Yes, sir." I growl, annoyed by the new rule. I roll my eyes, not realizing that he was looking at me. I hear a loud smack followed by a sharp sting on my thigh. He just hit me.
"That was for rolling your eyes, another habit I will have to break." He says, his voice cold and firm. He opens his door and steps out of the car. Before I can grab the handle on my side, he has already opened the door for me. I step out and mutter a quiet 'thank you' in order to avoid another smack. He only hit me once, but it still hurt like hell.
"Greg will bring your stuff to your room, so you can just follow me." Mr. Warren says. Turning towards the house. It is then that I fully take in his appearance. He is a tall man, standing about 6'3. He has a broad physique, proving my assumption that he works out... a lot, which is covered by a perfectly tailored grey suit. His hair is a dark brown, almost black. His jaw is clean-shaven and sharp. His skin is rich golden hue, probably from the summer sun. His eyes? I noticed his eyes when I first met him. They are a piercing blue, beautiful when they're not glaring into your soul which is pretty much all he's done so far. Overall, he might be the most beautiful man I have ever seen, but he is also the scariest.
"Serena, are you listening?" Mr. Warren questions, turning around to face me, his jaw visibly clenching.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you," I say, quietly. I quickly follow it with, "sir." He seems to relax slightly.
"I accept your apology. Try to pay attention. If you make me repeat myself again, I will take it upon myself to teach you to listen. Understand?" He stepped towards me so we are now standing less than a foot apart. His demeanor is cold and stern: scary.
"Yes, sir," I breathe out.
"Alright," He turns back away and continues, "as I said while you weren't listening, breakfast will be at 7 sharp, lunch will be at noon, and dinner will be at 6 every weekday. If you are late, you will be receiving a spanking, one stroke for every minute you are late, the implement will depend on your excuse and your obedience, and then you will be eating the meal with a sore bottom. The weekends will vary depending on my schedule. I will keep you updated. If I do not assign a time, you will be allowed to eat whenever you choose. I will be checking with the cook to make sure that you eat all three meals. Any questions?"
Without thinking, I shake my head in response. Before I know it, Mr. Warren is standing in front of me. He wraps his left arm around my back, bending me forward slightly before landing five sharp spanks to my ass. The first smack made me gasp from the impact and, by the fifth, it was hard not to cry.
"Try that response again." He challenges, not letting me up from this humiliating position.
"No, sir, I have no questions." I say. I feel myself being released from his hold.
"Good."
"Was that really necessary?" I question, rubbing my ass.
"It would not have been necessary if you would have just shown me the same respect that I show you." He says, raising an eyebrow. I keep quiet, realizing that I'm pushing his patience. He turns and continues with the tour. Honestly, I don't think there's a way for me to not get lost in this place.
"You are allowed in most rooms in the house at any time, but you are not allowed outside without permission. You are also not allowed in my study unless I explicitly tell you to go in. I will mostly send you in there to administer your punishments, so you really don't want me to send you there. You will be allowed in if I am in there and you need me, but knock first. Same goes for my bedroom, you will be allowed in if you need me, just knock first." Mr. Warren explains, "Any questions?"
"No sir." I reply, not wanting any further assault on my ass. He gives me a tight-lipped smile, satisfied by my answer.
"You will be given a computer and phone to use, both will be closely monitored by me. If you misuse either, I will not hesitate to take them away." He continues, "The main reason you will have the phone is to contact me, and, once you start school, contact other students when necessary. Your computer will mostly be for school, but, since it's summer, I will allow you to use it to watch shows and movies. Again, it will be monitored,"
"Yes sir." I continue behind him until we come to a large open space on the second floor. There is not much in the room besides a piano in the center of the room. There is a fireplace and a sofa too. This is my favorite room so far. Everything is so clean and light. The floor is a white marble and the piano is white. The sofa is grey leather and the fireplace is grey stone. I notice a TV hanging above the fireplace, but it almost looks like it is built into it. The wall opposite the fireplace is all windows, letting in ambient lighting. Since it is a sunny day, the light hits the piano perfectly.
"Whoa," I breathe out, involuntarily.
"Do you like this room?" Mr. Warren asks.
"Yes, sir." I reply.
"I like it as well. Do you play piano?"
"No."
Mr. Warren raises an eyebrow.
"Sir," I say, rolling my eyes.
"We will discuss the importance of respect later. For now, let me show you to your room. There is a staircase to the right which Mr. Warren leads me to and up to the next level. We walk down a hallway and he stops in front of a door.
"This is my room." He says before continuing forward, "and this is yours." He opens the door across the hall from his room. I stepped into the large room, taking it in. Everything about the room is light and feminine. The walls are a light grey, the carpet is fluffy and white, and the bed is covered by a light pink comforter.
"I hope it's to your liking." Me. Warren says. I don't say anything, "I'll allow you to settle in before dinner which will be at 6. I will come knock on your door so we can walk down together and you don't get lost."
"Thanks," I mutter.
"And change into something more appropriate before dinner, preferably something that covers your entire stomach." He instructs, eyeing my current attire of a see-through crop top and ripped jean shorts. He leaves me alone in the room and I sit down on the bed. I press my back against the headboard and curl my legs into my chest, hugging them tight. I feel so alone. I let tears fall down my face. What did I do that made me end up here?
I hear a knock on the door and look up.
"I thought I told you to change before dinner?" Mr. Warren asks, standing in the doorway. I bring my gaze up to meet his. I roll my eyes before getting up.
"Come here," He demands. I slowly shuffle my feet over to him, scared of what is about to happen. Once I am within reach, he grabs my upper arm, spinning me so he can have easy access to my ass. He starts laying smacks on my ass, mostly on my exposed upper thighs. He stops after fifteen.
"Change, now." He steps back, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms.
"Aren't you going to let me have some privacy?" I question.
"No, you lost that privilege when you didn't follow my instructions the first time."
Fantastic. I go over to my suitcase, hoping they packed what I want to wear. I dig around for a minute before finding my favorite sweatpants. I pull them over my pants and I pull a tshirt on over my current shirt. I turn back to Mr. Warren and give him an 'are you happy?' look.
"We will discuss proper attire later because it is dinnertime and we do not have time right now." He steps away from the door, leading me towards the dining room.
"Asshole," I growl. I know he heard me because he hesitates for a minute. I froze, expecting another spanking. Instead, he just continues forward.
I remember there are two dining rooms: one for meals where it is only the two of us, and one larger one for when there are guests. He leads me to the smaller one.
"Sit," He instructs, sitting down on one side of the table. I glare at him, but I still listen. My ass still has not recovered from the previous assault, so sitting on the wooden chair is not pleasant. Mr. Warren seems amused by my discomfort, which just frustrates me. A woman comes out and places a plate of food in front of me and one in front of Mr. Warren. He picks up his fork and begins eating. I pick up my fork and start playing with my food, not having much of an appetite after the day I've had. The food looks delicious, but I can't bring myself to eat. I glance up at Mr. Warren, who is very focused on his food, not paying me any attention. I definitely do not mind. I watch him eat and let my mind wander. Mr. Warren is definitely not used to being shown any sort of disrespect, but if he is going to purposely piss me off, I will do the same. I mean, upstairs, I didn't change because I was upset and lost track of time. Yes, I did not want to listen either, but that was not the main reason I didn't change. He should have asked before whooping my ass for it!
Finding myself getting frustrated, I accidentally let out a huff, letting my fork fall, hitting the plate with a clang.
Mr. Warren looks up. He sets his fork down beside him, calmly.
"What is the reason for your unruly disruption?" He questions.
"I think you're being unfair." I exclaim. He raises an eyebrow at me.
"Would you care you elaborate? Preferably in a calmer tone." He counters.
"It doesn't matter." I growl, crossing my arms against my chest.
"Unless you want to be punished, yes it does." He thinks he's so smug, doesn't he?
"Fine, I don't think I deserved to be punished for not changing clothes earlier. I was upset and I lost track of time. It's not like I purposefully didn't change and then came down for dinner-
"Do you seriously think I punished you because you hadn't changed?" I nod, "Well, I didn't. I punished you for rolling your eyes. I told you that disrespect won't be tolerated."
"You beat my ass because I rolled my eyes?!" I stand up, slamming my hands on the table, "Jesus Christ!"
"I suggest you sit down and eat your food before I lose my patience Serena."
"How's this for disrespect? No." With that, I turn and leave the room. I go up to my room and slam the door. I change into my fuzzy pj shorts and a t-shirt before climbing into bed. I lay on the bed and silently cry. I don't even realize that I had nodded off until I hear my door open, and a soft blanket is spread across me. The person shuts off the lights on their way out, closing the door behind them. I drift back to sleep.