by courtney — First Party

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Sam goes a bit overboard at the party and ends up stranded and late for curfew.  Her big brother, Mason, bails her out, but isn’t too happy with her behavior.

 ———–

“Sam,” Mason called after me. “Hold up.” I sighed and turned around. He grabbed my arm, tugging me back into the apartment.

“Awh, c’mon, Mace,” I coaxed. “Cindy’s outside waiting for me.” I tried to yank my arm from his grip as I took a couple steps closer to the door. Cindy said seven, and I was already gonna be late.

“Not so fast, kiddo,” he said, tightening his grip on me. “I wanna talk to you.”

“But I’m gonna be lateeeee,” I whined.

Mason gave me the look. I should’ve known better – whining never went over well with him. “Samara,” he began sternly, narrowing his eyes. “You will sit down and listen to what I have to say.”

“Fine,” I sighed, walking over to the couch and taking a seat. I was growing very impatient. I had wanted to go to this party real bad for a long time, and Cindy was outside waiting for me, and I was about to go now, but…

“Watch the tone,” Mason warned, bringing me out of my thoughts.

He looked me straight in the eye, expecting some form of a response. I nodded.

“Look, Sam, I know you’re fifteen now, but you’re still my kid sister. I want you to be extra careful. No drinking, no smoking, no…”

“…sex, no drugs…” I finished for him. “I know, I know, Mason. I promise I’ll keep myself out of trouble.”

“And I want you home by eleven,” Mason said firmly.

“Eleven?” I repeated. “Isn’t that a little early for a curfew?”

“Not for a fifteen year old,” he said surely. “Make sure Cindy drives safe, too. She just got her license a month ago. I don’t wanna hear you’ve been in an accident.”

“We’ll be fine. She’s a good driver,” I assured him.

“Alright. Just be careful,” he said, his tone still worried.

“I will, I promise,” I said. “So, eleven for a curfew?” I questioned again, hoping I could squeeze another hour of him.

“Yes,” he said sternly. “And don’t you try for anything later. You will be home by then, and that is final. You got me?”

“Yeah,” I agreed reluctantly. “I got you.” I still felt it was ridiculous, but I knew that once Mason had made up his mind, he wasn’t going to change it. And if I kept trying, he’d probably just make it earlier.

“Can I go now?” I asked anxiously. He chuckled at my excitement, which annoyed me.

“Well, can I?” I asked again, hoping he’d give more of a response this time.

“Alright.” He kissed me forehead quickly. “Be careful, Sammie,” he told me again for at least the millionth time.

“I will,” I promised him, finally walking out the door. The second I hit the hallway, I raced towards the stairs, rushed down them, and then out the door to find Cindy waiting for me in the parking lot.

“What the hell took you so long?” she asked, annoyed as I got in the car. She pulled out of the parking lot in a flash, and I thanked God Mason wasn’t there to see it.

“I waited there for like twenty minutes,” she added, taking the turn way too quickly. “We’re definitely gonna be late for the party.”

“Sorry,” I apologized. “Mason…”

She huffed at the mere mention of his name and immediately snapped back in a sarcastic tone, “Your brother needs to chill out, Sam. Can you even breathe at home?”

I laughed. Sometimes it did feel like I was in a prison. My twenty-two year old brother, Mason, had been my sisters’ guardian and mine for a year or two now, and he could be a tad overbearing. Even before our parents’ deaths, he was a bit protective, but now that he was the authority figure, it just seemed to push him from protective to overprotective.

“I hope Jackson’s there,” Cindy squealed in a random outburst. She’d had a crush on Jackson all year, and I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Haha, that’d make your night for sure.”

She smiled. “So, you got a special crush you’d like to see?”

I shook my head, although there was this one boy…

“Awh, c’mon, Sam,” she said. “You can tell me.”

“But there isn’t anyone,” I replied quickly. In truth, there was someone, but he was a senior and way outta my league. That didn’t keep me from hoping, though. It’d make my life if Matt just said hi to me or asked me how I was. Or anything for that matter… If he just looked at me…

“I can see it in your eyes, girlie,” Cindy said confidently. “Who’s the boy?”

“Oh, fine,” I gave in. “It’s… Matt Jamison.”

“The quarterback?” she questioned, wide-eyed. “But he’s a senior, Sam. You’re just a freshman.”

“So,” I retorted. “It’s almost the end of the year. I’m almost a sophomore.”

“But that’ll make him almost a college student.” I sighed – she was right, but I didn’t wanna admit it.

“So, this Jackson boy,” I said, quickly changing the subject. “I think you may have a shot. He seemed interested in study hall.” Study hall was the only class I had with either of them. Cindy may have been my best friend, but she was a grade ahead of me. In fact, most of my friends were a grade ahead of me. I dreaded senior year for that reason more than anything. All my friends would be gone.

“You think so?” she asked, almost giddy.

I nodded.

“Cool,” she almost squealed again.

“We’re here,” she said, pulling the car to the curb. I walked toward the house with here, not believing it was actually happening. I’d waited what seems like forever to go to a high school party.

We made our way into the house, and the atmosphere seemed every bit as exciting as I’d hoped and expected it to be.

I followed Cindy to the punch table, and she quickly poured a glass, offering it to me. I took it, taking a drink right away. The second the liquid hit my tongue, I knew it wasn’t just punch. It had without a doubt been spiked. I set the glass down swallowed the drink I took, hard.

“You okay, Sam?” Cindy asked, slightly concerned. “It’s just punch.”

I knew it wasn’t just that, but looking around I noticed that was what everyone was drinking it. They all seemed to be fine, so I figured I would be if I drank it, too. Besides, what Mason didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

I took another sip and tried not to grimace this time. I half-expected myself to, but after a couple more sips, the taste grew on me, and I didn’t mind it anymore. In fact, I finished the entire glass.

“Sam!” I heard a familiar voice call. I turned and saw that it was Louise. I immediately went and took a spot on the couch where she was seated.

“I never thought I’d see you at a party,” she giggled.

“I never thought I’d be at a party. I’m still shocked I talked Mason into it,” I replied.

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

“Me too,” I said.

“Hey, Sam,” said another familiar voice. It belonged to Kevin. “Take another glass,” he standing, handing me the punch as he took the seat.

I gladly took it, telling myself it would be the last glass.

“Can’t believe the school year’s almost over,” I remarking, sipping the punch.

“I can’t believe Samara Hawley is at a party,” he laughed.

“That’s what I said!” Louise chipped in. I faked a laugh. I knew it was my first party, but it wasn’t that unfathomable, was it?

I took another sip of the punch, relaxing into the back of the chair. Before I knew it, the second glass was gone.

“Want another?” Kevin offered. “I’m getting one myself.”

“Sure,” I said. After all, I’d already had one. What harm could one more do?

He returned with the glad quickly, and then we ended up discussing the school year. Louise and Kevin talked about how they were excited to be juniors and finally upperclassmen next year. I felt a tad out of place as I was only gonna be a sophomore and still and underclassmen.

I broke my promise of the second glass being the last. One led to two, and two to three. After a while, I lost count of the number of glasses I’d had. I thought five, or six, or maybe seven, but I didn’t know. My mind was starting to fog – I couldn’t think clearly.

I staggered a bit to the door, figuring some fresh air might help me. I opened it and stepped out, but I wasn’t breathing better, I was gagging. It was the cigarette smoke, and I began to cough a bit.

“Hey, have a cig,” the boy standing by the door offered. “It’ll calm your nerves, sweetie.”

“No thanks,” I replied politely.

“C’mon, baby, you look tense.”

I was tense – I knew this feeling I had was a bit more than a buzz. Why not try it, I thought, taking it and holding it in my fingers.

“Now, put on your lips and inhale,” he said, demonstrating. I did as he did and took my first ever puff. I expected myself to gag or puke, but I didn’t. He was right – it was in a way, relaxing.

I had a few more, in fact. I took a seat on the steps next to him.

“So, what’s your name?” I asked, trying to break the ice for some conversation.

“Evan,” he replied, smirking. “Yours?”

“Samara, but everyone calls me Sam.”

“Why?” he pondered. “Samara’s such a pretty name.”

“Most people think of The Ring when they hear it,” I explained.

“Nah,” he said. “I’ll just think of you.” I giggled. He was rather sweet, but I was still a bit shy, not knowing what to say.

Unexpectedly, he threw his arm across my shoulders. I reluctantly laid my head on him, but later relaxed a bit. It felt good to have his arm around me.

I drifted off a bit, very drowsy from the punch, and the nicotine had set it, causing me to slip off further.

“Man, I can’t believe it’s almost midnight,” he said, snapping me back into reality. Midnight? Oh God, oh God, oh God. It couldn’t be. Mason was gonna kill me.

I, uh, gotta go,” I said, sitting up a little too quickly. The punch was coming up. I leaned over and hurled onto the pavement.

“You alright?” Even asked.

“No,” I said, choking back tears. “I feel like shit, and I just broke curfew by an hour.”

“Shit…” was all he could say. “You need a ride or something?”

“I have one,” I said softly, but I didn’t know where she was. Cindy probably wouldn’t like me leaving before her, so I figured I better find her, but then I thought of Mason. I had to get home as soon as possible. “Never mind. If you would, that’d be great.”

“Sure thing,” he said, helping me up. He practically carried me to his car, and I worried for a bit, hoping he hadn’t had much to drink.

He started the car and pulled off the curb. “Where do you live, hon?”

“In the blue apartments off main,” I replied.

I gulped when I saw the time in his car. It was 11:56. I was as good as dead.

I felt myself began to shake as we neared closer and closer to home.

Sooner than I’d hoped, he was pulling the car to the curb of my apartment building.

“Thanks,” I said quickly.

“Anytime,” he said, leaning in and landing a peck on my cheek. I prayed Mason wouldn’t kill me… I really wanted to see Evan again sometime.

I slowly got out of the car and made my way to the outsider door. I took a deep breath, opened it, and proceeded up the stairs until I reached the door to our apartment. Staring at it blankly, I contemplated whether or not I was even gonna open it. I figured I had to, bit my lower lip, and finally did.

I snuck in quietly, hoping maybe Mason had already gone to bed and wouldn’t notice. Slowly, I crept closer to my room, but then I felt a hand on my shoulder. There was only one person it could be – Mason.

“Samara,” he began, trying to mask the angry tone. “Do you know what time it is?”

I shook my head. Maybe playing dumb would work.

“It’s a little past midnight,” he informed me. “I clearly said eleven, didn’t I?”

I stared at my feet.

“Samara!” he yelled. “I expect an answer outta you.”

“Yes,” I replied weakly. “I’m sorry, Mason. It won’t happen again, but it’s late, and I really oughta go to bed…”

I took a few steps towards my room, but Mason grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him.

“We are not done talking,” he said sternly, dragging me over to the couch.

“Please, Mason ,” I begged. “I don’t feel so good. I just wanna sleep.”

“You don’t feel good?” he questioned, having me sit next to him.

I shook my head, and he looked straight into my eyes. “You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?” he started very angrily. I wiped tears from my eyes. I didn’t wanna lie to him, but I didn’t wanna admit to it, either. I didn’t even know what to say, so I shrugged, which only seemed to piss him off more.

“And you smell an awful lot like cigarette smoke,” he added. “Great. Just fucking great. You broke curfew, got drunk, and smoked.” He was seeing red, and I was afraid to say anything for more of making him more upset.

“What do you have to say for yourself, huh?” he continued on.

“I don’t have much of anything,” I replied slowly. “I… I fucked up, Mason.”

“No shit, Sam,” he snapped. “You’re fifteen – you shouldn’t be doing this kind of shit. Fuck, no body should do this kind of shit.”

I nodded. I knew he was right. What I did was stupid, and I hoped me knowing that and admitting it would help me when it came to getting in trouble for it.

“This…this was completely unacceptable, Samara,” he stated. “I can’t let it slide.” I didn’t like the sound of those words. It probably meant I’d end up grounded for the rest of the school year.

“I don’t wanna punish you, but I have to,” he kept on. “This will never happen again, and I’m going to make damn sure of that.” I knew the words were coming, but I still dreading the wait and just hearing them at all. I was gonna be grounded til the turn of the next century.

“I think you I know just what you need, and I’m gonna give it to you,” he told me firmly. “You’re gonna get a spanking.”

“A what?” I was shocked. I was fifteen for chrissakes. He couldn’t spank me like I was some little kid or something.

I looked at him like he was crazy, but he just stared back at me, determined. “You heard me, a spanking. And I ain’t changing my mind, so it’s best you just cooperate.”

“But, Mason, you can’t spank me. I’m fifteen…” I began to argue.

“That doesn’t make a bit of difference. You could be ten or twenty for all I care. What you did was completely out of line, and you need to be punished for it,” he said, and I knew he wasn’t backing down on it.

I pouted. It wasn’t like I’d never been spanked before. My dad actually took a belt to me a couple times, but Mason wasn’t Dad, and I was no longer a kid.

“Let’s just cut straight to business. Over my knee,” he ordered, patting his thigh. I stared at it and then at him. He was dead serious, and I groaned.

“But…” I really didn’t wanna do this. Having to deal with Mason being a parental figure was enough, but him spanking me just crossed the line.

“No buts. Now!” I took a couple baby steps closer, but he lost patience in waiting and pulled me into position himself.

I squirmed and kicked my legs a bit, whining.

“Knock it off!” he commanded, landing a sharp smack on the seat of my jeans.

He continued to smack me, building up a pace. It hurt like hell, even though I was wearing thick jeans. Mason was strong, and he brought his hand down at full force. I whimpered and bit my tongue, and he kept right on with the spanking, landing a couple swats on my upper thighs

“Ow,” I cried. “Please, Mason, I won’t do it again, I promise!”

“I’ll make sure of that,” he said, not letting up at all.

Finally, the smacks stopped. I felt a wave of relief come over me as I stood up.

“Pull your pants down,” he ordered. My mouth dropped at the words. Was he really gonna spank me bare? I shuddered.

“What, uh, why?” I asked, feeling myself squirm again.

“That was far from it, hon,” Mason told me firmly. “Pants down and back over my lap. Now!”

I hesitated, and he glared at me. “Fine, I’ll do it for you, then, ” he said, grabbing a hold of the button. He quickly undid it and unzipped the, tugging them off and letting them fall to the floor.

He helped me back over his lap. The second I was back into position, he slipped my panties off.

“Isn’t no jeans enough?” I asked, trying to hold back tears.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Samara,” he hissed. “After what you did, you’re lucky I ain’t belting you like Dad would’ve.” With that, he resumed the spanking. His hand crashed onto my bare butt, and it hurt tens times worse than it did on my jeans. I was no longer trying not to cry, I was crying – sobbing, in fact. He ignored it and kept bringing his hand down on my backside.

It seemed like it was never going to end. He just kept on, and I was sure my bottom was crimson red by now. He swatted every last inch of my behind and my upper thighs. My skin felt like it was on fire and was continually being ignited with each slap.

Suddenly, he stopped. “You ain’t ever gonna do something this stupid again, you hear me?”

“Yes sir,” I replied quickly, but much to my dismay, he began spanking me more – faster and with greater intensity. I almost screamed as he kept on smacking my bare skin.

He gave me three final smacks, and at last it was over for good. I sobbed, letting the tears roll down my cheeks. He gently lifted me up and pulled my panties and jeans up for me, and then he put his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. I was still crying. He rubbed my back and held me close.

“Shh, baby, it’s over,” he said softly, brushing my hair outta my face. I buried my head in his chest.

I’m sorry, Mason,” I whimpered. “It won’t ever happen again.”

“I know it won’t, honey,” he said. “And I’m glad it won’t. I don’t like spanking you, but if you deserve it, I won’t hesitate to. The same goes for Lane and Lily.” It was somewhat comforting to know that he wouldn’t just spank me, but that our twin little sister’s would be subjected to the same punishment, even though I hated the thought of spanking all together.

I took a few deep breaths and tried to pull myself back together.

“I love you, Sam. Don’t you ever forget that,” he told me, kissing the top of my forehead.

“I love you, too,” I replied, allowing myself to calm a bit.

He continued rubbing my back, and I finally stopped crying. He still held me tight in his arms and it felt good to be there – to be loved. My backside may have been sore beyond all belief, but I knew without a single doubt in the world that he cared about me and loved me, and that was all th at mattered at the moment. I made a vow to myself to never let him down again and hoped I’d be able to keep it.

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