Careless

Careless...a Missy Story (M/f)

(This story is dedicated to a special friend. Thanks for all the good times...and there were a lot of good times. And sorry for all the bad times. Unfortunately, there were some of those, too. But that’s all in the past. I hope we can always be friends.)

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It was Friday after school. My new friend from down the block, Gabrielle was over. I called her Gabbi, for short. She was eight, a whole year older than me. I always tried to do everything that she could do. She had ridden her bicycle over to my house and asked if I wanted to ride around with her.

I ran to ask Mommy. “Mommy, can I ride my bike with Gabbi?”

“Sure, sweetie,” she said.

“Can we go around the block?”

“No, Melissa, you know the rules.”

“Yeah,” I said. I knew them, but I didn’t like them. Because I was only seven, I was only allowed to go as far as the corner in either direction from my house. Our new house was in the middle of the block, maybe six or seven houses in on each side. Mommy said I could ride to the corner both ways, but I couldn’t turn it. She had to be able to see me, if she was standing on the sidewalk in front of our house. Personally I thought the rule stunk, but if I wanted to ride, I had to follow it.

Gabbi, on the other hand, was allowed to cross some little streets, if she was real careful. She could also ride completely around the block if she wanted to. Then again, she was eight. Gabbi was a nice friend. She lived with her mommy and her older brother. He was nine. I had a little crush on him, but I didn’t tell anyone.

Anyway, I came back out and told Gabbi. “That stinks,” she said.

“Yeah, I know, but at least I can ride,” I said.

“Okay,” she said. “We’ll just ride to the corner and back, and then to the other corner and back. Come on.”

She waited while I put my helmet on. It was a law in our state. And besides, I didn’t wanna crack my head open if I fell.

Gabbi headed down the sidewalk, pedaling fast. I had to pedal real fast to keep up to her. “Come on, slowpoke!” she yelled.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” I yelled.

We rode back and forth a few times. It was getting kind of boring, so we started making up games. We raced, and we pedaled slow. We pedaled backwards. We were being just plain silly. Finally, Gabbi asked, “Hey, Missy, can you ride with one hand?”

I watched as she rode past my house and took one hand off the handlebars. I shook my head in amazement. “Wow!” I said. “I can’t do that.”

“You just got to go fast, Missy, and then just take your hand off the handle bar; it’s easy!”

“Wait, let me try it.”

It was scary at first. I was afraid to let go. “Maybe you’re just too little to do it,” Gabbi said. I didn’t like that so I said, “No, I’m not. I can do it.”

And I did. I took one hand off the handlebars and kept riding. She stopped and stood up, straddling her bike, watching me. “Hey, that’s really good, Missy,” she commented.

“Thanks,” I said. I rode that way for a bit. Then Gabbi said, “I’m gonna try to let go with both hands.”

I laughed as I watched Gabbi. She did a great job. I thought I could do that, so I tried it, saying, “I’m gonna do no hands, too.”

If I thought taking away one hand was scary, it was even scarier taking away both hands. But I did it. “Look, I did it!” I yelled. Gabbi watched and said, “Wow!”

I was so excited that I was actually riding with no hands, that I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I hadn’t seen our mailman appear on the sidewalk in front of me. I didn’t see him, actually, until I crashed into him and we both tumbled onto the sidewalk. Ouch!

It seemed like a lot of time passed until I was able to sit up. Gabbi was standing over me, having hopped off her bike. “Missy? Are you all right?” she asked, concerned.

I nodded. Then I looked over at our mailman. He was standing up, dusting himself off. I looked up at him. “Umm, I’m sorry, Mr. Jones. Are you all right?”

“Well, I think I’ll live, Ms. Ross. What on earth were you doing?” he said.

“Um, we were riding our bikes,” I said.

He just looked at me. “It looked like you weren’t holding on very tight, Missy,” he scolded. I didn’t know if he knew my name was Missy, or if he was just calling me that. I think he called all little girls, “Missy.”

It was then that I realized that my knee hurt. I looked down and saw that my knee was scraped and it was bleeding.

“You better go in and have that taken care of,” Mr. Jones told me.

Gabbi kneeled down and looked at my knee. “Oh my! Does it hurt, Missy?”

I nodded.

“Come on, I’ll help you into your house,” she said.

When I got inside I showed Mommy my knee. She asked what happened. I didn’t tell her about the “no hands” part, just that I was riding and fell and scraped my knee. I also didn’t tell her that I ran down poor Mr. Jones.

She cleaned the cut and put a band-aid on. It was a rainbow band-aid. I smiled up at Mommy. She said, “I think that’s enough bike riding for today, Melissa. Why don’t you go back out and put your bike away? You and Gabrielle can come inside and watch TV or color if you want.”

Gabbi smiled and we ran outside. My bike was still lying in the middle of the sidewalk. I ran over and started to pick it up.

“Uh oh, it looks a little twisted,” I said.

Gabbi looked at my bike. “A little? My god, Missy, it looks like a pretzel. It’s amazing you only scraped your knee.”

I looked at Gabbi and then back at my bike and started to cry. The handlebars were all twisted. “My daddy’s gonna be mad,” I said.

“HEY!”

We turned around and there stood Robby, Gabbi’s brother. I smiled a little to myself and then said, “Hey!” back.

“What happened to your bike?” Robby asked.

“You should have seen it, Robby. Missy crashed right into the mailman,” Gabbi said.

Robby looked at me. “Yeah?”

I nodded. But then I started to cry a little. “My daddy’s gonna kill me,” I said.

“Nah,” Robby said. “I can fix it.”

“You can?” I asked in amazement.

“Yeah, no problem.”

Me and Gabbi watched as Robby picked up my bike. He carried it into the garage. Gabbi and I followed. We watched as Robby held the wheel between his legs and twisted the handlebars straight. He set it on the floor.

“Wow! Thanks, Robby!” I said, excitedly. Before I could stop myself, I had run over and hugged him tight. When I realized what I did, I took a step back. I was embarrassed. But Robby didn’t say anything about it.

“Gabbi, Mommy needs you to come home,” he told his sister. “That’s why I came over here.”

“Oh,” Gabbi said. “Okay. Missy, tell your mommy thank you for the invitation to come in, but I have to go.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I told my friend. I turned back to Robby and said, “And thanks for fixing my bike.”

“No problem, Missy. Anytime,” Robby said. He smiled as he walked away.

I suddenly remembered that Mommy wanted me inside the house. I closed the garage door and went in. Now I didn’t have to tell Daddy that my bike was broken.

Later after dinner, I went into the den where Daddy was sitting and reading the newspaper. “Daddy, look, I got a boo-boo,” I told him, pointing to the rainbow band-aid on my knee.

“Awwww, how’d you get that?” Daddy asked, as he lifted me onto his lap. I snuggled against him.

“I hurted my knee, Daddy. I fell off my bike.”

“You fell off your bike?” Daddy asked, looking me over. “Are you all right, Missy?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay now. But it hurt when it happened.”

“What did happen?” he asked.

“Um, well, me and Gabbi were riding our bikes, and I was going fast and I crashed.”

“You have to be more careful, Melissa,” Daddy said frowning.

“I know. I will, Daddy.”

Daddy cuddled me for a while after that. I felt a little guilty not telling him the whole thing. But I had a feeling he would be mad if he knew I had tried to ride with no hands. It just didn’t seem like I should admit it just then.

After a while, Daddy brought me upstairs to give me my bath. He filled the tub with lots of bubbles just like he knew I liked it. He put in my boats, picked up the washcloth and started to clean me. I liked when he did it, even though I was big enough to do it myself.

While he was cleaning me, I sailed my boat up his arm and he laughed. I loved to make Daddy laugh. It was like his whole face laughed, not just his mouth.

I played with the bubbles while Daddy shampooed my hair. He let me put the washcloth over my face so that the shampoo didn’t get in my eyes. I hated when that happened. When he was through rinsing me off, I helped him put the boats back in the bag.

Daddy took a large towel and wrapped it around me. I snuggled into it as Daddy carried me back to my room. The house seemed so quiet, as Katie and Debbie had long since gone to bed. The boys were probably downstairs watching TV with Mommy.

Daddy helped me into my pajamas. My new favorites were the blue footed ones that he and Mommy had gotten me for the holidays. They were neat cause they were real warm, and my feet were never cold. Also, my puppy, Midnight, couldn’t lick my toes when he slept with me. It also had a drop seat, so when I had to go to the bathroom, I didn’t have to take down the whole thing.

Daddy zipped me up and set me on the floor. “There; you’re all set. You just need to go brush your teeth.”

“Oh, do I have to, Daddy?” I whined.

“Yes, Melissa, and no whining. You know Daddy doesn’t like that.”

“Oh, okay,” I said, heading back towards the bathroom.

But when I got there, I didn’t feel like brushing them, so I just turned on the water, held the toothbrush under it, and waited for a few minutes. Daddy would never know. And if he came to feel my toothbrush, it would be wet.

I ran back into my room and climbed up into Daddy’s lap. He was sitting on my rocker and had a book out. It was my favorite one, too. “All done,” I said.

Daddy smiled and said, “Good girl.”

I settled back in Daddy’s lap as he read the story. Then he picked up another book I had just gotten. It was all about animal sounds. Daddy and I laughed as I tried out each sound. At one point, Daddy leaned in close to me and said, “Melissa Erin!”

I jumped and looked at him.

“Did you brush your teeth?”

I nodded and said, “Yes, Daddy. You can even feel my brush. It’s wet.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I started to nod, but then I bit my lip and shook my head. “No, sir,” I said, sadly. “I fibbed to you.”

Daddy sighed and stood up, placing me on the floor. “Melissa, what did I ask you to do, young lady?”

Very sadly, I said, “You asked me to brush my teeth, Daddy.”

“And did you do that?”

I shook my head again. “No, sir.”

Daddy sighed and shook his head. “What happens when you fib to Daddy?”

I looked up at him and shook my head. “No, Daddy, not a spanking. I’ll go brush them right nowwww,” I said, starting to head back for the bathroom.

Daddy stopped me and said, “You will. Then we will discuss this.”

I didn’t want to “discuss” it as he put it. Cuz Daddy’s definition of discussing and mine were two completely different things. He was waiting, so I slowly walked to the bathroom and brushed my teeth for real this time.

I came back and showed him my teeth. He smelled the toothpaste on my breath and said, “Much better.”

I looked at him, wondering what would happen next. I didn’t have to wait too long. He said, “Now go get me your hairbrush, Melissa.”

“Oh, Daddy, no!” I said.

Daddy looked down at me. “If I get it, Melissa Erin, it will be much worse.”

I couldn’t argue with that, and ran over to my dresser, where that dreaded hairbrush was kept. I picked it up and brought it back to Daddy. I was already crying. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“I’m sure you are,” Daddy said. “But does saying sorry stop a punishment?”

“N-n-no, sir.”

“Why are you getting a spanking, Melissa?”

“Cuz,” I said and turned away, biting my lip again.

Daddy turned me back. “Cuz why?”

“Cuz I fibbed to you, Daddy.”

“Yes, you did.”

“But I didn’t mean nothing by it, Daddy.”

“It was still fibbing, Melissa.”

“Yes, sir. But,” I said, walking a few steps away.

“But what?” Daddy asked me.

“But I don’t want a spanking.”

“I am sure that you don’t. Now come here.”

I looked over at Daddy. He was sitting on the edge of my bed. I was standing a few feet away. I started to shake my head. “No, Daddy,” I said, the tears falling down my face.

“Do I have to come get you, Melissa Erin?”

I shook my head and went right over to Daddy. Having him come get me would have been much worse. Daddy turned me around and opened up my drop seat. I forgot to mention before that that was one of the drawbacks of the one piece footed pajamas. Not only was it easier to go to the bathroom, but also it was easier to bare my bottom for a spanking.

Daddy pulled me over his lap and picked up the hairbrush. I cringed knowing what was coming. Daddy raised up that brush and started smacking it down on my bottom.

{Crack! Crack!} {Crack! Crack!} {Crack! Crack!} {Crack! Crack!}

Owwwww, that hurt! I started squirming over his lap, crying. Daddy held me in place as he continued to rain the spanks down on my tush.

{Crack! Crack!} {Crack! Crack!} “You will not fib to me, young lady.”

“Owwwwwwww, yessssssssssirrrrrrrr,” I cried.

{Crack! Crack!} “I do not {Crack! Crack!} like it at all. {Crack! Crack!} And you know it, young lady.” {Crack! Crack!}

“Owwww, I knowwwww, Dadddddy, please stopppppp!”

“And you will not {Crack! Crack!} make me tell you things twice. {Crack! Crack!} If I tell you {Crack! Crack!} to come over to me, {Crack! Crack!} you will do as I say {Crack! Crack!} the first time. {Crack! Crack!} Is that understood?” {Crack! Crack!}

“Owwww, yes, Dadddddddy! I’m sorrrrrry!”

Daddy spanked lower on my bottom, hard on the sitspot. {Crack! Crack!} {Crack! Crack!} {Crack! Crack!}

I was hysterically crying. This was a hard lesson. I guess he was trying to make it sink in this time. He didn’t want me lying to him-that was for sure.

Daddy dropped the brush and stood me up. I cried and rubbed my bottom.

“Are you going to fib to me anymore, young lady?”

I shook my head and said, “No, sir, not again.” If I thought about it then, I should have brought up what had happened that day with my bicycle and the mailman. But I guess I didn’t think...that always seemed to be my problem. Plus, I hadn’t really lied; I just didn’t tell the whole story.

Daddy pulled me up into his lap and rubbed my back and my bottom. “Okay, baby, it's all over now,” he said.

I cried against his chest and said, “That hurted, Daddy.”

“It was meant to, Missy.”

“I know. And it did,” I said.

Daddy rubbed my bottom and rocked with me for a few minutes. After I had calmed down, Daddy tucked me into bed. He made sure my stuffed polar bear, Gus, and my puppy, Midnight were under the covers with me. He leaned down and kissed my forehead and said, “Good night.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day was Saturday. I liked Saturdays because Daddy was home and we did errands and stuff around the yard. This particular day I was in the kitchen helping Mommy bake cookies. Me, Debbie, and Katie were taking turns mixing the batter. Joey and Billy were out front with Daddy.

Daddy was fixing the railing to our house. Billy had bumped into it the other day and it was a little crooked. Just then, Mr. Jones came up the walk and handed Daddy the mail. Daddy looked up and saw the bandage above his eye.

“Oh, Mr. Jones, are you okay? Looks like you got a nasty bump there,” he said.

Mr. Jones nodded. “Happened right there,” he said, pointing to the sidewalk in front of our house.

Daddy stopped what he was doing to listen to our mailman. “Yeah? What happened?”

“Your little girl happened,” Mr. Jones informed Daddy. “Come barreling down the sidewalk on her bike with no hands. Toppled me right over and fell down too. She got cut on her knee, and I got this,” he said, indicating his bandage.

“Did you say with no hands?” Daddy asked the mailman.

Mr. Jones nodded. “Yeah. Is she okay? Her knee was pretty scraped up.”

Daddy frowned. “Yeah, she’s fine. I’m really sorry she knocked you down. Please let us know if there’s anything we can do.”

“No, that’s okay, I’m all right. I’d just tell her not to be so careless,” Mr. Jones said, walking away.

Daddy turned to look at the boys. They started to busy themselves. They knew in a few minutes, that my scraped knee would not be the only thing that hurt today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was adding the chocolate chips to the batter when Daddy came into the kitchen. “Look, Daddy, we’re making cookies!” I said.

“I see that. Melissa, I need to speak to you up in your room.”

“Now, Daddy?”

Daddy nodded and gave Mommy a look. “RIGHT NOW, young lady,” he said sternly.

I looked at Mommy and she nodded. I took off the apron I was wearing and followed Daddy out of the kitchen. I didn’t know what I had done, but it was obviously something bad. I turned once and saw my little sisters staring at me. They were little, but around my house, everyone knew when someone else was gonna get a spanking.

Daddy led me up to my room and sat on my bed, standing me in front of him. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. It was scaring me. Finally I spoke up. “Daddy, what’d I do?” I asked in a timid voice.

“Melissa, tell me what happened yesterday when you and Gabrielle were riding your bikes,” he said.

I think it was the way he said it. Something made me think I had better tell him the whole story. I sighed and sat down next to him on my bed.

“Well, me and Gabbi were riding down the block and she was showing off by riding with only one hand, so I tried it too. Then she did no hands, and I tried that also,” I admitted quietly.

“No hands, young lady?” Daddy asked, frowning.

“Yes, sir,” I said.

“Melissa Erin, that is dangerous!” Daddy said.

“I know, Daddy. I guess I wasn’t very good at it, cuz then I kinda bumped into the mailman. That’s when I scraped my knee on the sidewalk.”

Daddy stood up, pacing. “No hands!” he repeated.

I bit my lip and looked up at him. “Are you angry, Daddy?”

“Yes, young lady. You might have gotten seriously hurt. You’re lucky your bike is okay and that you only scraped your knee. Mr. Jones was walking around with a bandage on his head. Did you know that?”

“No, sir,” I said, sadly. “I’m sorry.”

Daddy sighed. “I’m sorry too, but you know what this means, Melissa. What has Daddy said about doing dangerous things?”

“Not to?” I asked.

“Yes, and what happens when you do?”

“You get angry?”

“Yes, I do, young lady. And what else?”

“I get a spanking?”

“Yes, you do,” Daddy confirmed.

“But I don’t want another spanking, Daddy!” I cried.

“I am sure you don’t, but you deserve one. Not only for doing something so dangerous and hurting Mr. Jones, but for lying to Mommy and Daddy about what happened.”

“I didn’t lie!” I spat out.

Daddy was taken aback by my attitude. “Not coming clean and telling us the whole story is a form of lying, Melissa Erin. Mommy and Daddy do not condone lying, in any way, shape, or form. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Daddy, but...”

“But what, young lady?”

I was feeling ashamed of myself then. I didn’t want a spanking, but I guess I kinda knew I deserved one. “But I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“I know you are. But you’re still getting a spanking, Melissa. Now is there anything else I should know about?”

I thought about it and remembered my bike. I nodded. “Yeah, my bike kinda got twisted up, but Robby fixed it.”

“Did you thank him?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good. Is that it?”

I nodded.

“Okay, now come here,” Daddy said, beckoning me over. He had gotten my hairbrush while he was up. I guess he didn’t want to have to ask me for it, again.

“Why are you getting another spanking, young lady?”

I started to cry, already. “Cuz I did something dangerous, Daddy.”

“And why else?”

“Cuz I didn’t tell you and Mommy everything about what happened?” I asked.

“Yes,” Daddy said. “And that is a form of lying. We will not tolerate that.”

I stood before Daddy. He bent down to pull down my jeans and my panties. I pushed his hands away. “No, Dadddddy, I don’t want one,” I cried.

Daddy looked surprised. I almost never did anything like this. “Melissa, did I ask if you wanted one?”

I bit my lip again. “N-n-no, sir.”

“No, I didn’t. You’re getting one and there will be no more arguing, young lady.”

Daddy pulled me over his lap, my bottom now bare. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” I cried.

“I am sure that you are,” he said, raising the hairbrush. He brought it down on my bottom over and over again. My tush was still sore from my spanking the previous night, so it hurt extra.

{Crack! Crack!} {Crack! Crack!} {Crack! Crack!} “You will not {Crack! Crack!} ride your bike {Crack! Crack!} with no hands!” {Crack! Crack!}

“Owwwww! Yes, sirrrrr!” I cried, wiggling and kicking my feet.

Daddy held me firmly in place and continued. {Crack! Crack!} “Do you hear {Crack! Crack!} me, young lady?” {Crack! Crack!}

“Owwwwww, yessssss, Dadddddy!” I screamed. This spanking was killing me.

“And you will not {Crack! Crack!} fib to Mommy and me, {Crack! Crack!} or neglect to tell us things. {Crack! Crack!} Is that understood?” {Crack! Crack!} Daddy put down the hairbrush.

“Yes, sir, I’m sorrry!” I cried.

“I know {Smack} {Smack!} you are. {Smack} {Smack!} Just don’t do it again,” Daddy said, finishing up with his hand on my sitspot. Then he stood me up. “Okay, baby, your spanking’s all over now.”

I stood up, rubbing my bottom and crying real hard. I didn’t know if it was because I had just had a spanking the night before, or because Daddy was being extra strict with me, but my bottom felt like it was on fire.

Daddy held me close and rubbed my back and bottom. I cried against his chest. “Do you understand why Daddy was so hard on you, Missy?”

“Cuz I was bad, Daddy?”

“You weren’t bad, Missy. It was careless to ride your bike with no hands, and it was careless of you to not tell Mommy and Daddy the whole story. We expect better of you.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I said, still crying.

“It’s all over now, and you’re forgiven, baby.”

“I didn’t mean to be bad, Daddy. I just wanted to do what Gabbi did,” I explained, turning away. “I’m sorry if I’m such a brat. Do you still love me?”

I knew Daddy loved me, but I had done all these horrible things. I couldn’t help but feel like he couldn’t possibly love me anymore.

“Oh, baby, Daddy will always love you. Come here,” he said, turning me back toward him. “You are not bad, and you are not a brat. You just acted in a careless manner. Besides, Gabbi is a whole year older than you are. She shouldn’t be riding without hands, either, but sometimes she may be able to do things that you can’t do. You need to be more careful, Missy.”

“Yes, sir, I will,” I said.

I let Daddy hold me and cuddle me. That always made me feel better.

“Daddy?” I asked after a while.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Why do you love me?”

Daddy smiled and said, “That’s easy. Because you’re my baby.”

“I love you, too, Daddy. Always and forever.”

The end.