Have you been a good girl?

Leanne refreshed the webpage, half-expecting the listing to vanish as if it never existed, either a trick of her mind or a victim of the public library’s ‘adult content’ firewall. But it returned, same as before, and she dug herself a little further into her cubicle.

To answer the question – no, no she hadn’t been a good girl, not by any stretch of the imagination. Even the few friends she had left would say that she was impatient and bad-tempered on the best of days. Those that loved her, or at least knew her a little better, might add that she put off making tough decisions. And her criminal record kind of sealed the deal from there.

She’d gone from a little less than a year in prison (for which she still blamed Steve, even if she could have guessed what was in his luggage when he gave her two hundred bucks to pick it up) to a year and a half living in her parents’ trailer before finally – thankfully! - getting a place of her own. The new apartment was tiny, it was cheap, and it was in a part of town long forgotten by developers. It was, in other words, perfect, except for the quiet.

The library seemed like an odd place to go with that in mind, but the wi-fi was free and she told herself she might be able to find a job, at least enough to cover the rent. And if that didn’t work, she could sell some of the crap that Greg and Marina had given her to furnish the apartment – there wasn’t enough room for all of it, and just maybe somebody would be willing to take it off her hands.

Take this old fart, for example. He’d messaged her just before the library had closed the day before, asking a price for her dad’s magnifying glass lamp. He’d said he could be there by noon, and Leanne, in a rare moment of inspiration, decided to use the time to look him up. Learn about your customer and shit.

And how.

Have you been a good girl?

“Leanne?”

He’d crept up on her while she’d been staring at her phone. She hoped he couldn’t see what she’d been reading.

Seeing him in person for the first time, he was… unassuming? If he was any taller than her, it wasn’t by much. She hadn’t noticed his baldness in the tiny profile image. He looked, she thought, like somebody’s grandpa. Not at all like…

She shook the thought from her head. “You Frobie?”

He bowed. Leanne almost grinned, and caught herself. While she’d been ‘inside’, Leanne had discovered that her periodic toothaches had been caused by an abcessed tooth that she’d let fester for too long. Altogether, she’d had to have seven more pulled, and her smile hadn’t been the same ever since.

Instead, she reached for the bag at her feet.

“You want to see how it works?” she asked. The tables at the library came with charging stations, so she didn’t have to search for a plug. Only then did she realize that she’d tightened the clamp so that it would be easier to carry.

Frobie watched her with curiously as she fought to crank open the damn thing without making it obvious. She’d finally widened it enough to fix it to the table when the lamp sparked brilliantly to life, and she nearly dropped it.

“Sorry, dear,” said Frobie with a chuckle, “but I really just needed to know if the light itself still worked. These LEDs can be very temperamental.”

Leanne forced herself to remain calm. She hadn’t finished the sale, and she’d been warned that these old guys would try to lowball her at the last minute.

“I believe you said twenty-five?” he asked.

The bills were already in his hand, pointing to her. She was relieved that she didn’t have to drag it out of him, but still somehow angry. No, not angry. Unfulfilled.

Frobie seemed satisfied by the deal. In a moment he’d be gone.

“I saw your ad.”

Leanne wasn’t any good at subtlety. But if Frobie was shocked by her announcement, he didn’t show it.

“And?”

She flailed. “And… you’re for real?”

“Oh, very.” And then, to Leanne’s surprise, he pulled over the chair beside her and sat down. “So what do you want to know?”

“I was just curious.”

“Of course. So there’s nothing else you’re curious about?”

 He was close now, less than an arm’s length away. The room felt just a little warmer.

“How does it work?”

“Vague question, but it’s a start,” Frobie mused, leaning back in his seat. “I aim to provide structure and accountability for young women who are lost, or stuck in bad habits. You would—“

Leanne held up a hand, “Hey, I didn’t say I was signing up for this...”

“—They would make a list of goals,” he corrected, not missing a beat. “Things that they would want to change, but lack the motivation to do by themselves. Things that require not counseling, but just a firm hand.”

“So, these would be things like… poor impulse control?”

“If you so decided.”

“Procrastination?”

“Sure.”

“Smoking?”

“A tall order, but…”

“Bad manners?”

“Are you sure you’re not signing up?” asked Frobie with a chuckle.

Leanne shook her head. “Too little, too late. When I was growing up, my folks let me do pretty much whatever I wanted. My self-control is shit, pardon my French, and I don’t think it’s something you can change with a little ‘paternal-style discipline’, whatever that means.”

“Perhaps. But you have to want to make the change. The scoldings and spanking – that’s just encouragement, really.”

“I’m sorry, did you say ‘spanking’?”

It went without saying that Leanne hadn’t been spanked growing up. To her parents, the idea of hitting their kids was ancient, barbaric, even. She didn’t even know of anyone her age that had gotten spanked. Well… except one.

Her big sister Rachel had left the house at nineteen – being a latchkey kid wasn’t good enough for her, and she went to the city to try her hand at being a grown-up instead. Leanne didn’t see Rachel or talk to her for the next ten years, and when they did meet again suddenly everybody started seeing Rach as an adult, as if she hadn’t ignored them for the last decade and hooked up with some gross rich dude old enough to be her dad.

But no, once she was back with a healthy new attitude and a more age-appropriate boyfriend, the rest of the family seemed to forget who Rachel was and how she’d been raised. There had to be a trick.

And about a year ago, Leanne stumbled onto the truth. She’d gone out for a smoke when she’d heard Rachel getting her ass smacked by that same boyfriend. They tried to gaslight her, but Leanne knew what she’d almost witnessed and Rachel’s high-and-mighty act made a lot more sense. She was still Leanne’s sister under all the bullshit, and that side of her still needed to be ‘managed’.

But what if it worked?

“—but yes, as discipline goes, it’s traditional and relatively harmless to a consenting adult,” Frobie continued. “Although by ‘harmless’ I don’t mean ‘painless’, you understand.”

She’d tuned him out for a moment there, although it wasn’t hard to tell what he’d been going on about. Sure, she hadn’t felt a spanking before… but she was pretty sure she knew what happened during one.

And so what if it hurt for a bit? Moving out of the trailer had been the first step, but if this could help, she would be able to get past all the bad shit that had held her back until now. She’d start being on time for things. She’d hold down a regular job.

Just maybe… she’d get her son back.

One more question nagged at the back of her mind. She hadn’t held back up to this point, and she saw no reason to start now.

“This isn’t a sex thing, is it?”

It was the first question to slow Frobie down. He bit his lip.

“Not intentionally. But there’s a certain intimate contact involved, and that’s why I’m only offering my services to young ladies.”

Translation, this is something that gets me off, but I’m going to pretend it doesn’t. Leanne kept the thought to herself. That was knowledge that could be useful later.

“What would you say to like, a trial session?”

His eyebrows rose. “My dear, I can’t address that entire list of sins in an afternoon. Can you start with something more specific?”

She sighed. Yeah, something sprung to mind. She picked up her phone and started to scroll through her images. There were dozens upon dozens in there, all the stuff she’d planned to sell online. But she’d also taken one more, just for the lulz. It showed what the rest of the apartment looked like – the side she’d tried so hard to keep out of the earlier photos.

He studied the picture for a long moment. “I have some questions of my own, then. First, how do you manage to sleep?”

“Easy, I kick that stuff to the foot of the bed, or the floor. Some of it I can use instead of blankets on colder nights.”

“I see. This is really something you want me to help you with?”

“It’s the least of my problems, but that’s what makes it a good test, right?”

“I disagree,” said Frobie, raising his eyes from the screen. “I would go so far as to say that it’s representative of all the bigger issues you’ve brought up already. It’s a fine place to start. Now, how old are you, Leanne?”

She was tempted to make him guess, but Leanne knew what she looked like and that his answer might not be as flattering as she hoped.

“I’m thirty-four,” she admitted.

“Thirty-four years old. And this is how you keep your home? The place where you live? This isn’t just untidy, it’s unhealthy, and I expect better of you. We will be discussing this further.”

The switch caught her by surprise. A moment ago, he’d been an elderly stranger that she’d been chatting pleasantly with. Now… now she’d exposed something else buried just behind that smile.

“You have my information,” he continued, “so I will see you this coming Sunday at my house. I expect you to bring a recent picture of that same spot of your apartment, and we will be looking over your housekeeping strategy in detail. Do I make myself clear?”

Leanne didn’t know what else to do. She nodded.

“Until Sunday, then. Pleasure doing business with you.”

He picked up the lamp and left.

***

“Have you been a good girl, Leanne?”

She woke in the middle of the night, eyes wide, scalp drenched in sweat from the still breeze. The words still echoed within her head.

She’d heard them this time. The man in her dream had said them as she approached him in his study, his face in shadow, only the only light in the room glowing from the edges of a looking glass.

The voice sounded soft, but there was a hardness within it that she felt more than she heard, an edge that tickled her skin with goosebumps even in the warmth of spring. And she found she could not lie or joke her way out of this one.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“That’s not an answer, young lady.”

She closed her eyes, even if it didn’t make any difference.

“No, Daddy. I haven’t been a good girl.”

She couldn’t control the words coming out of her mouth. Why did she feel so anxious? Where was her fucking spine? And why was she calling this man ‘Daddy’?

She could hear the creak as he shifted in his chair, and her stomach dropped with that sound, even if she couldn’t say why. He unbuttoned his cuffs – he was wearing a shirt with sleeves, she could see now – and bared his right arm.

“Do you know what’s going to happen now?” he asked.

She nodded. It didn’t seem to be enough for him.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m going to get a spanking.”

The word had seemed so silly when Frobie had dropped it during the day. It didn’t anymore.

“You’re going to get a spanking alright,” he agreed, “It’s been a long time coming. And…?”

“And what?”

“Where are you going to be spanked?”

She gulped. “On my ass?”

“On your bottom, young lady, your bare bottom. Until…?”

That wasn’t something she’d thought about at all. Did he mean until she was sorry? Until her ass was marked? Until she cried? And then the answer came to her.

“Until you decide that I’ve learned my lesson. Daddy.”

She could barely see his face, but she could swear she caught the white flash of a smile.

“We’ll make a good girl of you yet, Leanne. Now take off your panties—“

And then she’d woken up.

In the dark by herself, Leanne thought: What have I gotten myself into?