Tonight (M/f story)

Stephen took another handful of popcorn, shoving it in his mouth before leaning back in his chair. It was Friday night, there was a good film on, his sister Jackie was visiting a friend (meaning she wouldn't be playing any loud music for the next few hours)... He'd watch the film, and maybe go to sleep early, as he was a bit tired. Basically, a lovely evening.

Then, the phone rang.


Jackie was sitting on a bench at the police station, nervously biting her fingernail. It was just a beer, she thought to herself. He'll understand, right?

She was kidding herself, and she knew it. Her brother would certainly punish her for this – he considered under-age drinking a serious matter. She wished she'd never gone to that party. She wished the police hadn't arrived. She wished they hadn't realized she was under-age, and that they hadn't hauled her into the station. She wished that when Stephen arrived, he'd give her a hug, tell her everything was all right, take her home, and NOT spank her bottom sore. But in the back of her mind, she knew it was futile.

Stephen arrived, sending her a strict glare as he walked past her. She recognized it; it was his Wait-until-I-get-you-home-young-lady look, and there were very few things she feared more than that look.

Things did not go as swiftly at the police station as Stephen had hoped, and by the time he got his little sister into the car to go home, it was over midnight.

"I'm really, really, REALLY sorry, Stephen," she said in a small voice. He didn't answer.

"Are..." She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. "Are you going to spank me?"

"What do you think?" he said coldly.

She nodded, starting to cry. That was what she was afraid of.

As they entered the house, he turned to her. "Go to bed. I'll deal with you in the morning," He gave her a quick swat to the seat of her jeans to hurry her along. He yawned: it had been a long day.

"Yes, sir," Jackie said, relieved to have her punishment postponed.

That relief passed. She tried to sleep, but the knowledge that, come morning, Stephen would enter her room, take down her pyjama bottoms, take her over his knee, and spank the daylights out of her, made the task somewhat difficult. She looked over at the clock: 3.15. She reached her hand back to rub her bottom, wondering how hard it would be. Would his hand be enough, or would he ask her to fetch her brush? He did that sometimes, when he felt she had been naughtier than usual. He'd probably use the brush, she concluded glumly. This was a bit more serious than her usual shenanigans – it always was when the police had to be involved.

She rolled over in bed. She couldn't go on like this; she wouldn't get a moment of sleep if the spanking was still hanging over her, lurking in the future. She knew what she had to do.

It was just so incredibly hard to do it.

"Stephen?" A hand shook his shoulder. "Stephen? Wake up please. Stephen?"

Gradually, the fog in Stephen's mind lifted, and he looked up to see his sister standing over his bed in her pink pyjamas. She was biting her lip while she stared at the floor with her hands behind her back. He looked at his watch; it was four in the morning. "You'd better have a REALLY good reason to wake me up, Jackie, or you'll be in a world of trouble."

"I can't sleep," she said, in a tiny, scared voice.

"And that's my fault, is it?"

"Yes," she said, nodding, but corrected herself when she saw the look on his face. "I-i mean no! It's..." she sniffled, trying to hold the tears back. "I'm scared, Stephen. I'm too scared to sleep."

"About the spanking you've got coming?" he guessed.

She nodded. "I can't sleep, knowing I'll get it as soon as I wake up.

He raised an eyebrow, or at least tried to. He was still quite tired. "Are you asking me what I think you're asking me?"

She held out the hairbrush she'd held behind her back, handing it to him. "I'd rather get it over with now," she said. She was pale, and there were tears in her eyes. He had to help her, he concluded.

He saw three options. One, forgive her and let her get off without a spanking. That didn't feel right; he couldn't let her get away with her misbehaviour like that. Two, TELL her she was forgiven, so she'd calm down and fall asleep, but still give her a spanking come morning. That option was out of the question. He wasn't cruel enough to get her hopes up like that. Three, wake himself up and give her what she asked for.

He sighed, burying his face in his hands. He was so tired. "Go to the kitchen," he said. "Make me a cup of coffee – strong." She obeyed immediately, and he stumbled into the bathroom, splashing a bit of water into his face. He needed to wake up.

I've finally gone insane, Jackie told herself. She'd actually asked for a spanking. She'd handed the brush to Stephen and asked him to use it on her poor, defenceless backside. She shrugged. At least she wouldn't have to wait all night.

He went back into the bedroom, putting on his trousers. He wanted to be somewhat dressed before giving her what she needed. He still wasn't wearing a shirt, but he was in no mood to look for one, and it didn't really matter.

He picked up the brush that was now lying on his pillow, before sitting down on the bed. Shortly afterwards, Jackie entered, handing him a cup of coffee. He thanked her. She'd put a bit of milk in it, which he never did, but in this case, it was a good thing, as it made the coffee slightly cooler. He blew on it, before drinking the whole thing in one gulp.

As soon as he felt slightly awake, he looked up at her. "It's time for your spanking."

With experienced hands, he reached forward, pulling her pyjamas bottom down past her knees, all the way to the floor. She nervously stepped out of them, leaving her bare from the waist down. He guided her over his lap, adjusting her so that her bottom was raised over his knee. He picked up the brush, patting it against her quivering cheeks. "I want you to think about what you did," he said. "I want you to think about that party, and that beer. And I want you to promise me, and yourself, that you will never do anything like that again." And with that, he began the spanking.

Any lingering thoughts that the wait was worse than the spanking itself were gone from her mind as the hard wood of the brush cracked against her backside. She yelped, kicking her legs and squirming as if attempting to escape the pain, but a firm arm around her waist kept her in place and made sure every stroke of the brush landed exactly where he wanted it to. The awful brush branded her poor backside, spreading agony across her cheeks. Putting it off until morning suddenly sounded like a great idea.

Stephen hardened his heart to her yelps of pain. He hated doing this to her, but it was the only way he could get her to behave. He'd tried grounding, loss of privileges, all that, but nothing seemed to work quite as well as a good, old-fashioned spanking.

Her once-pale bottom was now pink and turning red, and she was sobbing.

When he was satisfied she'd learned her lesson, he picked her up, seating her on his lap and giving her a long hug. She cried against his shoulder, her sobs slowly calming down. After a few minutes, he realized she'd fallen asleep. He carried her into her bedroom, placing her on her bed – on her stomach, of course. He watched as she slept, still bare from the waist down: her pyjamas bottoms were still on the floor of his bedroom. She looked so cute and vulnerable, he couldn't help but smile. Suddenly, he noticed how tired he was; it seemed the effect of the coffee had worn off. He hoped he could make it back to his bedroom and his bed before falling asleep.

He managed neither, and spent the rest of the night sleeping on the floor of the hallway.