The Babysitter, Part Seven
Part Seven
“See? If you had just started with that, this whole thing could have been avoided.” Noelle’s words were reminiscent of pretty much any authority figure who was chastising someone after catching them in a lie. Not that I was the type to ever get in trouble. And yet here I was, getting punished despite being the total opposite of the girl who actually deserved this.
WHACK.
It didn’t matter that the cheek she had shifted to had suffered a lot less in comparison. Her slap still felt aggressively hard, and I couldn’t hold back yet another squeak of pain and surprise. And that was just the beginning.
After a reminder to hold still and hush, Noelle began spanking me for real. Like the previous cheek, the first few were just as hard as the one she had started with. I was only able to keep so quiet and so still, because it truly was impossible to do either of those things. She probably knew that, which is why the blows kept coming despite my little yelps and twitches.
The rough slaps quickly morphed into a more swift spanking that I had already suffered through on the other side. Then, I had begged for her to stop. Now, I knew that such protests would fall on completely deaf ears. For the time being, I was Miley and nothing would change her mind. So I bit my tongue and swallowed my pride, trying to limit my reactions to both end this as quickly as possible, as well as keep Paige from enjoying this more than she already surely was.
By the end of the unfair assault on my undefended backside, my eyewater had given way to a few more natural tears. I wasn’t actually crying, as I was still being too stubborn for that despite the stinging pain, but I was nervous it would look like that anyway. “So, for the last time,” Noelle said. WHAP. Her hand crashed down on the cheek that hadn’t been slapped for a while, causing an embarrassing little squeal to escape my lips from the surprise. “What’s your name?”
“Miley!” I exclaimed right away. My voice slightly cracked, causing me to blush as red as my lower cheeks no doubt had gotten. “I’m Miley,” I echoed, in case the first answer wasn’t clear enough.
SMACK. She alternated to the other one. “And you’re going to behave?”
“YES.” I shifted slightly in discomfort, belatedly reminding myself that I wasn’t supposed to move. Wincing for a spank that I anticipated would come from breaking the rules, I hastily said, “Sorry. Yes, I’m going to behave . . . ”
“I hope so,” Noelle said. She placed her hand on one of my still stinging cheeks, silently reminding me and threatening that she could start up again at any moment, “Believe it or not, Miley, I don’t like punishing disrespectful little brats. But I am good at it. We can still have a nice weekend, and you can make my job easy. It’s all up to you. WHACK. “Do you understand?”
“Ah!!” It had been enough of a break that I wasn’t ready to keep my voice in check. The short, high pitched cry brought on an even darker blush, and I quickly said, “I understand,” before she decided to mirror the smack on the other side.
“Good. And you’re going to act like a proper girl from now on? You’re going to do as you’re told?”
“Yes!” I said, right away. Anything to avoid more spankings.
I was still holding onto the hope that I would get a chance to escape to my room once I was off her lap. It was the same plan as before. My driver’s license had my name and my real age, plus ‘Alyssa’ was plastered on pretty much everything I owned that was school related. But first, I had to somehow get through both Noelle and Paige. Not the easiest task, when my sister very much knew who I was and had already made a play to keep me out of my bedroom once she discovered the mix-up with Miley’s sitter. Based on Paige’s reaction alone, it was clear that this wasn’t some devious scheme of hers. Either Miley had done some bullshit, or I was the most unlucky girl in the world and Noelle had actually come to the exact wrong house with another redhead teenager present.
Noelle lifted her hand, and I winced in anticipation of yet another harsh slap. Instead, she simply said, “Then do as you’re told, Miley. Get up, go apologize to your sister for being difficult, and then go stand in the corner until I give you permission to move.”
A few minutes ago, I would have scoffed at such a directive. No one talked to me like that. But I was honestly a little scared of Noelle at this point, at least for as long as she believed that I was Miley. And I didn’t need to be told twice to get off her lap. Adjusting my weight and working my way off her lap with absolutely no help from the assertive brunette, I cringed a bit at the lack of grace I knew I had while standing myself up. As a ballet girl, I cared a lot about posture and carrying myself properly, and could only imagine the image I was giving both my sister and my ‘babysitter’ at the moment.
As badly as I wanted to remove the wedgied leotard from between my cheeks, or maybe rub my sore backside as it still stung and burned a bit post-spanking, I instead worked to prove that I was the kind of girl who did as I was told. The whole experience was mortifying. I WAS a proper girl. But even when behaving and doing what Noelle told me to do, it didn’t feel like that in the slightest.
It was the definition of a lose/lose, and had been for quite some time. Be myself, get punished. Be Miley, get treated like Miley.
If I were the only one here, it would be one thing. I mean, it would still be humiliating to be mistaken for a middle school girl to the point where I wasn’t even offered the chance to prove otherwise. But at least that would be humiliating on a personal level. With Paige here, however? I had blurred out her existence for quite some time, as the spanking had been painful and degrading enough that I hadn’t been able to think of much else beyond enduring the awful ordeal. But now? I was face to face with my step-sister, and it wasn’t until I saw the look on her face that it truly sunk in that she had been watching the whole time.
Paige was enough of an actress that wasn’t outright smirking at me, but the knowing smile was telling enough. To Noelle, it would look like a sister enjoying the fact that her terror of a sibling was finally getting what she deserved. To me, her expression was something else entirely. She was loving every fucking second of this, and there wasn’t a thing I could do now that she had falsely corroborated Noelle’s assumptions about me.
I honestly couldn’t bring myself to say a damn thing. Apologize? Paige was the selfish one. The immature slacker. And I was supposed to say what, exactly? I was about to simply echo the words Noelle had prompted me with, but Paige got there first.
“Something to say, Miley?” she asked.