Handling his accounts (F/M story)

"Right," Summer said and held out her hand. "Give them here."

Brian handed his younger sister the papers he had been carrying, and wondered how in the world he had ended up in this situation.

The answer was obvious, of course. Brian had always been bad at handling money. Try as he might, he just wasn't the financially responsible kind. About eight or nine months ago, he had phoned his little sister, who was studying to be an accountant.

"Your problem isn't that you haven't got enough coming in," she told him. "Nor that you have any particular expensive habits or anything like that. No, the problem is that you keep making small, but expensive impulsive purchases. You can't go past something you want without buying it, especially when you've been drinking. You lack discipline. But I can help you with that."

"Oh really? How?" he'd asked her, desperate for a way out of his troubles.

"Spankings."

"Excuse me?" Was this another of her silly jokes?

"Spankings. You come to me every two weeks, and I take a look at your expenses this month. If I find something there I don't like, I take you over my knee and teach you a lesson with my brush."

He had told her as calmly as he could that there was no way in hell he would submit to something like that from his YOUNGER SISTER, and that if she couldn't be serious, he'd hang up.

"Hang up if you want," she had told him. "But that won't fix your financial troubles. You'll be back."

A month later, he showed up at her house. He had thought seriously about her offer, and decided he had to reluctantly accept. The petite redhead gave her the strictest glare she was able to muster, then told him that had wasted a whole month. Since he showed so little regard for both his time and hers, she had decided he would receive a spanking right away. On that first visit, he had been shocked at how quickly his tiny sister had reduced him to a crying mess, but she was a lot scarier with that brush in her hand.

"Well, everything seems to be in order. You're acting a lot more like a responsible adult. And I think you know why," she said, smiling smugly at him. One of his hands reached back to rub his bottom.

"Hang on, what's this?" He had a sinking feeling in his stomach as her brow furrowed. "What's this? ANOTHER trip to the pub. That makes three this month. What did I tell you about that, Brian?"

"You told me that 'Two nights out a month is more than enough, if they're that expensive,'" he said, quoting one of her rules.

"Good. And what did I say I would do if you broke that rule?"

"You'd 'light my butt up like a Christmas tree,'" he said, blushing like mad as he quoted her exact words.

"And I will." She shook her head as she made a mark on the paper with her red pen. "I really had hoped we would make it through a meeting without me having to blister your bottom."

"Then don't!" He pleaded. "Please, it's just one little mark, can't we forget about it, this once?"

For a few seconds, she just sat there, glaring at him. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say we should ignore the rules. You've already got ONE spanking coming your way, but I can easily make it two."

"Sorry," he told her.

"Apology accepted." She picked up the brush from her purse. "Now, hands on your head and get over here."

She pulled down his trousers and boxers, letting him stand there for a few seconds before she patted her lap. He lowered himself as fast as he could; anything to end the humiliation of standing there on display.

He sighed to himself. One mark! One bloody mark! Why couldn't he have stayed home that third night?

Summer had a special system of rules, and one of those rules concerned the length of his punishments. If he earned any marks, any at all, she would start off with a five-minute spanking with the brush. Then, when that was over, she would give him ten hard strokes for every mark he had. On the other hand, if he had no marks at all, he would get off without a spanking. Unfortunately, that hadn't happened yet.

"Are you ready, Brian?" she asked, rubbing his bottom with her brush.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good," she said with a grin as she lifted the brush.

The strokes weren't very hard, especially compared with the ones at the end of his punishment, but they still stung quite a bit, and they came fast. It wasn't long before the tears appeared.

"Stop struggling, Brian," she said as she circled his waist with her arm. "You're only making it worse for yourself."

"But it hurts!" he cried out.

"That's the point."

His bottom turned pink, then red, as he kicked and cried, pleading for mercy. When his five minutes were up, she stopped.

"Now, one mark, that's ten strokes. Are you going to be a good boy and lie still now?"

"I'll try," he told her.

"That's all anyone asks, Brian, that you try. Problem is, up until now, you haven't."

Ten hard strokes rang out in the silent room, and Brian cried out at every one, but he managed to not move for any of them.


Later, Brian left his sister's apartment, rubbing the sting from his bottom as he made his way home. And just like last time, and the time before that, he promised himself that next time, NEXT TIME, he would earn no marks at all.