The General's Little Angel by Breanna Hayse

Author:Breanna Hayse [Hayse, Breanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781370314881
Goodreads: 33872639
Publisher: Breanna Hayse
Published: 2017-01-06T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

L ES HAD THE FLU. I know it sounds rather mean, but I was relieved to know that he was sick and not just trying to get out of eating the grubs. It also meant that he wouldn’t be stopping by the house that weekend. It was late by the time we got home, and I was sent to my room to unpack and get changed into my pajamas and then instructed to come back to the main house.

A cup of hot cocoa was waiting for me on the kitchen table. As I sipped it, Ray informed me of my fate.

“It’s time we got serious about both the drinking and the disobedience. I know you aren’t an alcoholic, but you have no limits if you aren’t supervised. I don’t think you understand the potential for danger that you put yourself in.”

“Okay, I agree that I’m a little naïve about how some people can be. I also didn’t know how strong that rum was and shouldn’t have even tried it without asking you first. I learned my lesson and promised that I won’t ever do it again.” I stayed calm and attempted to appear mature, trying one last time to plead my case with the hope that if I agreed, rather than argued, he would reconsider. Not.

“I wish you would have come to that realization earlier. I will deal with the severe portion of your punishment tomorrow since we are both tired. There will be no arguing or fighting me, or things will be much worse. You will also be going to bed every night with a sore bottom for this next week.”

“What?” I choked on my cocoa.

“I didn’t stutter. I intend for you to remember this lesson for a while. Your bedtime will be at 2100 every night, and you will come and get me.”

“That’s not fair.”

“You’re right. Instead of going to bed at nine, let’s make it eight-thirty.”

“Ray!”

“Would you like to go for eight o’clock?”

I was losing this battle. “Yes, Daddy. Nine o’clock is bedtime, and I will come and get you.”

“You blew it for nine. It will be eight-thirty. You are also grounded to the house for two weeks. That means that the only company you will have is me, like it or not. No computer, telephone, television, or video games. No pouting either.”

“This isn’t fair.”

“Must we go through this again?” he asked, hands on his hips.

“No, sir.” How did I get into this mess?

“Good. Let’s get this over with.” He reached out his hand and waited for my reluctant response. My mouth went dry as he produced a ping pong paddle from his dresser drawer. It was brand new—meaning that he bought it specifically with my bottom in mind.

“I will give you this one choice. You can place your hands on the edge of the bed or go over my knee. Which will it be?”

My preference would have been neither, but he was not going to accept that. I considered the options thoughtfully. An over the knee spanking was more humiliating but had less leverage and, therefore, less swing power.

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