Molly

“Molly”
part VI

It didn’t take me long to find the house of Molly’s friend.  I think it was because it wasn’t far from my own place and also, it was in a neighborhood that I knew well.  This wasn’t at the top of my agenda of what to do for the night.  In fact, I hadn’t planned any of the night to be like it had.  I slammed my car door, the anger inside me very apparent.  Storming towards the doorway, I tried to calm myself.  It would do no good to shout and carry on and let my anger get the best of me.  I couldn’t be a total asshole to Molly.  I had to at least try to be a little rational.

“I need to see Molly,” I demanded when Molly’s friend answered the door.

“Uhm..” she stammered, probably noting the steam coming out of my ears.  “J-just a sec..”  And then she disappeared and I heard a faint, “Molly!  It’s Brian!”

I stood there, arms folded, waiting.  Within seconds, Molly appeared in the doorway, hands on hips, cocking an attitude.  “What?” she asked exasperatedly.

That threw me for a loop.  I wasn’t expecting to see defiant Molly..  I was expecting to see a remorseful little girl who knew she was in trouble!  So much for controlling my anger.  I grabbed her by the upper arm and hauled her down the steps.  “I TOLD you not to come over here tonight, Molly Riana Collins!”

“Hey!  What are you doing?  My stuff is in there!”

“I don’t care!  I told you not to come over here and you did anyway.  I am not going to put up with this attitude, Young Lady.”

“Let go!” she shrieked.  I heard Molly’s friend’s mom close the door.

“Do not speak to me that way,” I ordered, but she was relentless in her struggles.  Finally, sick of all of the playing, I planted a firm smack on Molly’s backside.

She stopped for a minute.  I mean, stopped everything.  Stopped struggling, stopped yelling, stopped walking...  She glared at me.  “This isn’t fair,” she said, looking back ahead, hurrying to the car, and plopping down on the seat.

I groaned.  She definitely wasn’t going to make this easy for me.  It was hard enough to spank her when she *did* comply, much less when she was going to try and put a guilt trip on me.  I’d just have to let it go, though.  She was going to learn to do as told...

I sat down next to her, slamming the keys into the ignition.  Starting the car, I scolded her.  “I’m sick of this defiance, Molly Riana.  First, what you did to Ali was completely and totally unfair, and I needed to discuss it with you.  That’s why I told you that you couldn’t stay the night with your friend..”

“But you’d already told me I could!” she whined, letting a few tears stream down her face.  I was sure it was because she was angry.

“And I’d probably have let you gone after I we discusses the situation.  But it’s too late now... you went over there anyway, after I clearly explained that you couldn’t go.  I’m not putting up with this attitude, Young Lady.  You can learn the hard way, or you can stop.”

She pouted.  “I want to go to Ireland,” she murmured, staring out at the blackness outside.

I sighed, staring straight ahead as we drove into the parking lot of my apartment.  I didn’t want this to happen, but it was essential.  Why couldn’t Molly be the perfect angel she’d always been?

I parked near the door to my apartment and Molly opened her door before I even turned off the car.  She got out and slammed the door, then walked quickly to the door, I guess forgetting that it would be locked.  I sighed again, running my fingers through my hair.  I knew what she was trying and it wasn’t going to work... I wasn’t going to let it work!

I trudged towards the doorway and unlocked the door.  Molly barged through and plopped down on the couch. 

“I don’t see what your problem is,” she hissed.

I shut the door behind me, wanting to keep the yelling to a minimum since it was fairly late.  “The problem is this attitude that you’re getting with me,” I answered.

“I’m not getting an attitude!”

“Like hell you aren’t!  If you’d just do what I say, then it’d all be much easier on you, Mollycakes.”

“Whatever,” she muttered and rolled her eyes.

“Go to your room,” I ordered.  I needed the time to calm down and she needed the time to think about what was going to happen.  “You’re getting a spanking, Molly.  But I can’t do it right now.  I’m too mad... beyond it even.  Just go.  I’ll call you in here soon.”

For the first time I saw the fear... I saw her stop resisting.  She gulped slightly and moved past me towards her room, looking up at me with apologetic eyes filled with tears.  It wasn’t going to work this time..

I sat down on the couch and leaned my head back, resting it against the cushion.  I closed my eyes and breathed... that was the only way I knew how to calm myself.  I had so much on my mind -- from Molly’s resistance to things with her mom to how I did on my most recent test.  It was all jumbling together and I wanted it to go away.. wanted to find a way for it to go away.  I was in no mood for spanking my Mollycakes..  I didn’t have the heart to hurt her.  Even if it would help in the long run.  She could be so sweet sometimes.  What had gotten into her?

I sat like that for about ten or fifteen minutes, maybe longer.. just enough time for my heart rate and blood pressure to drop to being normal.

“Molly, come here,” I said in a weak almost inaudible voice.

I knew she was probably sitting close to the door, waiting for the call.  While my heart rate had been given time to drop, hers had been given time to rise... she knew what kind of trouble she was in.

Within seconds I heard the door crack open and Molly appeared in the living room, still in her baggy jeans and green T-shirt.  Her face was tear-streaked and she was sniffling and looked so innocent as she stood there.  “I’m sorry, Brian,” she said.  “I’m ready to talk now.”

I nodded.  “Come here, baby,” I said, holding out my hand.

She began crying again, the tears streaming silently down her face and her lip quivering.  I sat her down on my lap.

“What are you ready to talk about?”

“Ali.”

“What about her, baby?”

“I didn’t want to be mean to her.  I wanted to be her friend.  But then the rest of my friends didn’t like her because she was ‘weird’ and they said she was fat and that her mom left her a long time ago... and my mom left me, too!  I wanted to tell her that it’s okay... everything’s going to be fine because my mom left me and now I have Brian and he’s a great person and I like him lots... but they didn’t want me to like her.  They told me they’d stop being my friend if I talked to her.  I didn’t want them to stop being my friend!”

“But does that mean you have to make fun of her?” I asked.

She shrugged.  “I guess not.  I mean, I know not.  I shouldn’t have listened to them anyway, but I was so scared.  I was scared they’d treat me like they did Ali... they’d make fun of me and call me names.  I don’t want that,” she said, then began crying again, burying her face into my chest.  “I’m sorry... I’m so so sorry..” she bawled.

“Shhhh, babygirl.  Calm down, Mollycakes.”  I hugged her tightly and rocked her back and forth so slightly, stroking her tangled hair.  This was true crying -- this was the Molly I knew.

“I know it was mean,” she continued, still crying, still pressed against my chest.  “And I knew that she was already throwing up.  I heard her at school one day and...”

“You knew?” I asked, pulling her away from a second and looking in her eyes.

She began bawling again.  “I’m sorrrry,” she wailed.

“It’s okay, Molly... but listen.. if you know something like this, you should tell someone.  Tell anyone... a teacher, a counselor... even me!  Someone has to help her... throwing up is a problem.  I know you knew it was a problem, baby.  Why didn’t you tell anyone?” I asked, pressing her back against my chest.

“Because I was scared.  I didn’t want her to hate me more than she already did.”

There was a little bit of silence, just the sounds of Molly’s sniffling and crying every so often.

“I’m sorry I was a brat,” she finally said.  “I know I wasn’t nice to Ali, and I wasn’t nice to you either.  And I guess I deserve to be spanked...”

That was something hard to admit whether you were 12 or 21!  I had to admire her courage.  “You’re right, Molly, you do deserve to be spanked.”

She nodded. 

I pulled her away and kissed her forehead.  “You mean so much to me, babycakes.  I love you so much.”

“I know, Brian... I know,” she said, unable to look me in the eyes.

I lifted her from my lap and placed her on the floor.  She’d begun crying again by this time, but trying to remain calm, they were silent tears.  I unbuckled her belt and then unfastened her jeans, letting them drop to the floor.  Finally, I hauled her over my lap then tugged her panties down.  She was in this position again...

“Molly, what you did tonight was very disrespectful.  First with saying mean things to Ali and storming off from me like that.  I don’t want this to happen again, Young Lady, do you hear me?” I lectured, delivering the first volley of smacks to her pale, quivering, bottom.

“Owwwww, yessss, Brian!” she answered.

“We have already discussed what happens when you don’t do as I say, haven’t we?” I asked, firing more rapid smacks to her backside and noting that it was already turning a bright pink.  Judging by the way she was wiggling and squirming, I could tell I was already making an impression.

“Yessss, we haveee!” she howled, kicking a little and crying like crazy.  “I’m s-ssorry!!”

“First you took a drink outside of the concession area after I told you numerous times not to,” I reminded her, punctuating each syllable with a hearty smack.  “And then you wore that skirt to school... and tonight you went to your friend’s house when I’d clearly stated you couldn’t!”  I smacked harder, remembering this incident as well as the previous ones.  That got quite a reaction out of Molly.  Her kicking increased and she began pleading and squirming and squealing.

“I’mmmm soooo sorrrrryyyy!!!” she wailed.  “Pleaseeeeeeeee...” she broke off there, hiccuping.  Her bottom had by this point turned crimson and I decided to concentrate on her sitspots for a little while, so she could remember this for some time.

She howled as each smack was planted on her sitspots, bucking up and down, gripping the couch cushions with all of her might.  She began crying even harder, though I didn’t think it was possible, and finally stopped kicking and just lay limply across my lap.  I moved from her sitspots to her thighs, then alternated between the two, making sure that her entire backside was equally red. 

Finally I stopped.  It wasn’t enough, though.  I felt sorry for her, yes.  In fact, I had wanted to scoop her in my arms from the time she got the first smack.  But I’d promised her more.  I’d used the belt and promised her that she’d get it again if she didn’t obey my wishes.  I couldn’t back down now or she’d always expect me to do it..

“I’m not finished, babygirl,” I told her, standing her in front of me on her shaky legs.  She was shivering in pain and terror.

“W-what??” she asked through broken sobs.

“Remember what happened last time you got in trouble?” I asked.

She sniffled.  “B-briannn,” she begged, still shaking like crazy.  “Pleaseeee don’t use the beltttt!”

“I’m sorry, baby.  But I told you I would..”

She sobbed and sobbed as hard as she could, hiccuping every now and then.  I thought she was going to make herself sick, so I put my arms around her and rubbed her back softly. 

“Shhhh, Mollycakes... Calm down, baby.  You’re going to make yourself sick.  Shhhhh, calm down.”

She kept crying, but it eventually eased up and she nodded, apparently wanting me to go ahead and get it over with.  I pulled away and stood up, helping her over the couch.  I studied her bottom and thighs... it was dark red from top to bottom.  I touched it gently and it was hot as a fire.  I had to brace myself, as I’m sure she had to as well.  I didn’t want to do this, probably anymore than she wanted it.  It hurt me sooo much to see my little girl like that... to see her hurting so badly, only to hurt her more.  To be the one to cause her such pain.  I finally realized what it meant when parents said “this hurts me more than it hurts you.”  I remember how we’d always scoff and say “yeah, right.”  But now I understood.

I unbuckled my belt, watching her shiver as I did so.  While her crying had somewhat subsided, her shaking frame hadn’t.  And I’m sure the sound of my belt sliding through the loops didn’t do anything to ease her fears.  I wanted to get this over with... I was only going to deliver ten sound smacks, and that’s it, then I’d scoop her up into my arms and hold her for eternity... until she stopped crying and stopped shaking and she was okay again.

I gulped, then took a deep breath in.

SMACK!!!!

“YEOWWWWWW,” Molly howled, hopping up and down a little and moving her hands to protect her bottom from getting anymore.  “Pleaseeeeeeee,” she begged, whatever crying had subsided coming back to her now... “Noooo pleaseeee noooo.”

I just gripped her wrists and pushed her back down gently.  “Only a little more to go,” I promised, landing the next three one right after another.

I had to keep a firm grip on her to keep her from bucking up too much or trying to cover her rear end from the belt.  I then landed three more, and finally the last three, then let go of her wrists and threw the belt on the floor.

She was shaking more than ever, crying harder than ever.  Her face was blotchy and her bottom was darker than ever before, ten stripes having formed where I’d lashed the belt.  She wouldn’t be sitting comfortably for a long time, I could tell that.  On her sitspots, small bruises were forming.  Had I taken it overboard?

I led my babygirl back towards the couch and lay her on top of me where she wouldn’t have to sit.  “Oh, MollyCakes,” I said, rubbing her back in small circles, “I love you, babygirl.  It’s all over now,” I promised.  “I’m all finished.  It’s over baby.  Shhhh, calm down.”

I held her against my chest, trying to control her shivering, to keep her from crying so much.  It didn’t work, though... after a few minutes of cuddling, she pushed away from me, wiping her eyes.  “I-I’m, *hiccup* g-going to bed,” she announced, sniffling.

“Okay, I’ll be in there soon to tuck you in,” I promised.

She just nodded weakly and stumbled towards her room, or my room... or *the* room.  I heard her seconds later plop down on the bed and I sighed.  What if I’d done the wrong thing? 

I almost worried myself to death sitting on the couch, wondering if I’d been too hard on her.  After all, she was only twelve years old.

I finally pushed myself off the couch and gathered Molly’s clothes into my arms, folding them neatly.  I stalked to the bedroom and put them on the dresser.  The moonlight shone on Molly’s face.  She always kept the blinds open... I don’t know why.  I could see her lying there, blankets piled on top of her, rubbing her throbbing backside.  I could hear her still sniffling.

“Goodnight, Mollycakes,” I said, moving towards her and kissing her forehead, then ruffling her hair.

She didn’t speak back to me, I figured because she was too exhausted to do so.

I closed the door softly and ambled back to the living room, turning off all the lights.  It was 12:04.  I pulled my shirt off and sank down onto the couch, throwing a huge comforter over me.  I rolled over on my side, staring into space for a minute.  Something didn’t feel right... I wasn’t sure what it was...

Eventually, I dozed off, somewhere between all the worrying and bad feelings.  I have no idea what time it was.  All I know is that I had weird dreams about seahorses and videogames... don’t ask me why.  When I woke up, I was surprised that Molly wasn’t out and about.  Usually on the weekends she liked to get up at a decent hour and eat Lucky Charms while watching Saturday morning cartoons in her room.  She always left her door open when she was awake... so I figured she was asleep.

I stretched out and began cooking some breakfast.  The cd in the player was Shawn Mullins and I always listened to music while cooking, so I let him blare through the tiny apartment.  I figured the smell of fresh bacon would rouse Molly from her room, but it didn’t.  I finished cooking, setting the plates on the table as well as the food.

“Mollycakes!” I called, placing the final bowl on the table then going to the room and knocking the door.  “Mollycakes,” I said in a sweet voice, “breakfast is ready.”

No answer.

“Molly?”  I opened the door... the computer was on and window open, no sign of Molly.