The Santa Ana Winds. Their original name was the Satanya winds, meaning devil winds in Spanish. They could blow up to forty and even fifty miles per hour, sustained. And the hot dry air usually brought brush fires and fear to the Angelenos. Anything could happen when the Devil winds blew...

Tuesday

“And this is my daughter, Bailey. Bailey, say hi to Roger.”

My girlfriend, Tracy, was trying to introduce me to her 16-year-old daughter, who wasn’t showing a whole lot of interest in meeting me. We had been dating almost six months and she finally brought me home to meet her daughter. She sat at her little desk in an oversized t-shirt and long sleeping pants, her sandy blonde hair still damp from the shower, supposedly doing homework. Her room was decorated in the Early Demolition style so popular with teenagers. I couldn’t find a single spot on the floor that wasn’t covered in at least one layer of clothes or something else.

Bailey didn’t look in my direction.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bailey,” I offered. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She typed really fast, then paused and looked at the screen. I checked out her room, some posters of bands I did and didn’t know, other posters that had ripped corners and hung funny. The amount of dirty clothes all over the place gave me some anxiety.

“Yeah,” she responded after another brief flurry of fingers on the keyboard. “So like, I’m really busy right now? And I kinda don’t care, so, can you guys like, go or something?”

Ugh, she had that annoying habit of making most of her sentences sound like a question?

“Okay, we’re sorry honey. I just wanted you to meet Roger because he’s going to be around a bit.”

“Yeah, I feel like, you’re just forcing all this shit on me without like, fucking worrying about my feelings and stuff? Is he supposed to be my new Dad? It’s not gonna happen.”

“Okay, we’re going. Sorry. I love you, good night honey.”

A grunt was all the response we got.

Tracy closed her door, quietly, Her pained face showed her embarrassment, and I could also see she just didn’t know how to handle her daughter at all. We walked back down the hall to the kitchen and sat at the table.

“This was… she’s actually being really nice right now.”

I reached out and held her hand. “Tracy. Didn’t you say she has a big test tomorrow? She’s not studying, she was messaging people. You can tell by the way she’s typing.”

“I know… I just… it’s so hard, Roger.”

Tracy had told me all about herself and Bailey, how they had lost Michael in Afghanistan a year and a half ago. Bailey and her dad had been really close, and she was not able to handle her father’s death. Bailey wouldn’t talk with counselors, wouldn’t speak about it with her mom, either. She began acting out a few months later, and Tracy didn’t have the heart to discipline her. Bailey became difficult, then impossible, and now she’s reached a point where she was basically intolerable and out of control.

“I don’t know what to do with her. She’s going to ruin her life. And I feel like she blames me for everything.”

Just then, Bailey came into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She pulled out a half-gallon milk carton, grabbed some Oreos from the pantry and headed back to her room.

“Why don’t you buy us some fucking food, Mother. And stop looking at my ass, creep.” Those were her parting words. She did have a nice ass, just like her mom. It was the perfect combination of firm and jiggly.

I looked at Tracy and raised my eyebrows. Bailey left both the pantry and the refrigerator doors wide open.

“She’s just as bad as you said she was. I thought you were exaggerating.”

Tracy began to cry, dropping her head onto her folded arms on the table. I leaned over and rubbed her shoulders, telling her it was going to be alright.

“No, I don’t think it will. She’s only gotten worse. And you’re going to leave now. I mean, who wants to live with this? It’s constant, Roger, it never gets better. Michael, he… he was the only one who could handle her. It breaks my heart. She’s already drinking and smoking pot and probably having sex, too. It’s just a matter of time before she drops out of school and becomes a crack whore.”

I tried to console her. “I don’t think she’s that far gone, yet. You’re going to have to stand up to her, though. Set some boundaries.”

“I know, I know! But I can’t…”

“I can try, if you let me. But it might get worse before it gets better. Will you trust me? I’ll need you to back me up on this.”

“I will do anything you say, as long as you can be strong for me. I can’t do it by myself, as you can see.”

Friday Afternoon

“Why the fuck are you here again?” asked Bailey as she returned from school. The late afternoon sun streamed through the kitchen windows, bathing everything in a soft orange glow. The temps had gone up again and the Santa Ana winds were picking up, making everyone on edge.

“Your mom said it was okay. She had to cover another shift. I thought you and I could make dinner tonight for her. We can brown some ground beef and make spaghetti.”

She tapped incessantly on her phone. A palm tree out front kept leaning over in the wind, whacking the house with its fronds.

“Did you say something, creep?”

“Yeah. Let’s make dinner for your mom. Help her out a little bit.”

“That’s her job. You make dinner if you want to. I’m going out.”

My arm snaked out and I took her phone away from her. She came at me hard, screaming and grabbing. I shoved the phone in my front pants pocket.

“Oh, you think it’s safe there? Asshole!” She charged again at me. Bailey isn’t very big, but she was a lot stronger they she looked. After she kicked me a few times I finally managed to pick her up and force her into a chair at the kitchen table.

We eyed each other in an uneasy truce, both of us breathing hard. She wanted to leave but she wanted her phone too.

“Gimme my phone, fucker.”

“Not until you listen to what I have to say.”

She jumped up and tried to grab my phone again. I pushed her back in her chair. She glared at me with eyes that could kill.

“Fine. Talk. Like it’s going to make any difference?”

Shakily, I told her my story; how my mother died in a car crash when I was thirteen; how it ruined me for a long time. But with help from my dad and friends I got through it. It wasn’t easy, but I was able to come through it. I told her she wasn’t alone, she had people who loved her, and that I cared for her and wanted to help. I even got a little teary eyed. I finally finished it up with how we could make her life better, and she could be whomever she wanted to be.

The wind whipped harder, that palm tree slapped the house regularly now.

“Are you done?”

“Yes.”

“Can I have my phone?”

I sighed. “Did you even hear what I said?”

“Yeah. Your mom left you because she didn’t love you and you’re a little bitch. Oh, I’m sorry? Was there more?”

Fuck, she was good. Her walls were very high and very strong. It was very naive of me to think I could penetrate them with just a sob story.

“Yeah, there’s more. Help me make dinner for your mom.”

“Yeah. So like, that’s not going to happen? I guess you’re kind of stupid? I said that already. I’m going to a party tonight and I need a ride.”

“Yeah. So like, that’s not going to happen?” I said that in my best sarcastic voice.

“I’m going to my room.”

And she stood up and stomped away. I waited about ten seconds before I followed her. She slammed her door shut. I hustled down the hall and turned the lock on the new deadbolt I had installed today. It’s the kind where there’s no handle, it requires a key in either side to open it. I had both keys in my pocket. They didn’t live in a great part of town. Like every other house in the neighborhood, they had security bars over the windows to protect them from burglars.

It took about ten seconds for Bailey to realize that I had taken her computer, and that she was now locked in her bedroom.

The fit she threw was monumental. I didn’t know anyone could scream for a half hour straight. I couldn’t understand most of it, but a few words I understood. Asshole, dick, pervert, kill, and asshole again. She said that one a lot.

Tracy came home, and I apprised her of the situation. She immediately tried to get the key from me to let her out.

“No, honey. We have to let this play out. She needs to learn a lesson.”

Tracy wrung her hands. “This reminds me of when Mike would punish her. I would get very upset, but it was okay in the end.”

“And it will be okay tonight, too. I promise you. You’re going to have to trust me. Do you?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Tracy, I need your cooperation in this. I know what she needs. Now, get me some waters, the Oreos, and that plastic tub you soak your feet in. After I go in there, lock the room immediately, understand? Good. I have a key also but I won’t tell her that. Do not open the door, unless I ask you to. Got it?”

“Yes, Roger. I promise I won’t.”

We got the stuff together, and tiptoed down the hall. Putting our ears to the door, we couldn’t hear anything.

“Ok, this is it. Close and lock the door as soon as I’m inside.”

Tracy nodded.

I burst into the room to find Bailey lying prone on her bed, resting in her elbows and writing in a spiral notebook. She wore the same thing she had on this afternoon; stretchy yoga pants and a tank top. Tracy slid the bolt quickly behind me.

Pure malice poured from Bailey.

“Got another boring story for me? I can’t wait. You can’t keep me locked up in here forever. Mom will find out.”

“Your mom is already home, she locked the door. Now, you have a choice. Do you want to come with me and help us make dinner, or not?”

She made a laughing, snorting noise. I think it’s called a ‘guffaw.’

“Yeah, right. So like, we’re just a happy little family unit now? Making dinner? You’ve watched like, too many stupid movies or something.”

I tossed her a water bottle from the tub of goodies I brought in.

“I’m not taking anything from you.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that.”

I sat the tub down on her desk, then I grabbed a water and sat beside her on her bed. She scooted away from me.

“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way. It’s your choice. But you need to change your ways or you’re going to end up in jail, or on the streets, or dead somewhere. You are throwing your life away. Your mother cares for you very much. So by extension, I care, also. You can be anything you want to be, but you’re choosing to be a stupid bitch, instead.”

“How about we do it no way then. You aren’t my father, you never will be.”

I opened the water bottle and took a few sips. I held it towards her, offering it, she shook her head and said “Ewwww.”

I sat the bottle down on her nightstand.

It was time.

Swiftly, I reached over and grabbed her right wrist and pulled her towards me, hard. Her little 110 pound body slid over the duvet and then slid over my lap. Bailey immediately shrieked and began struggling, realizing what was happening as she lay across my lap.

I managed to grab both her hands and held them behind her back as she kicked and squirmed, struggling to get off of me.

“Bailey, this will be over the sooner you relax.”

“MOM! He’s attacking me! Help!”

Spank

I landed my first swat squarely on her bottom.

She stopped struggling and looked back at me, her face incredulous.

“You’re, you’re going to spank me? Oh my God you are such a fucking pervert!”

She spit at me but missed as her head wasn’t at a good angle. I pressed down on her wrists, pushing them against her back and I brought the spanks.

Spank

Spank

Spank

Spank

These were medium swats, my hand about a foot up in the air. I didn’t yell or scream, or even raise my voice. I just methodically spanked her. Over and over again.

She laughed at me for about the first five or so. Then she began screaming and threatening me.

Spank

Spank

Spank

Spank

After twenty-five I paused, my cock harder than a rock.

“Help me with dinner?”

“Fuck you, asshole. I’m calling the cops.”

Charming, to the last. Time to up the ante.

I lifted my hand higher, and brought it down harder each time.

SPANK

SPANK

SPANK

SPANK

Bailey cried out at these harder strokes. I began varying the landing zone, moving over to just her right cheek, then traveling up and down to her lower back and upper thigh. Next, my hand came down on her left side and traveled up and down that cheek, too.

Even though her stretch pants held her cheeks tight, I still got a good jiggle with each spank.

I stopped at the next twenty-five. My hand stung a little and I shook it several times trying to restore the feeling in it.

I took stock of our situation. Bailey lay across my lap, her knees at my right side and her stomach lying across my hard cock. She breathed heavily, her face turned away from me. I still held her hands behind her back although she had ceased struggling.

“Bailey, do you want some water?”

She didn’t move for five seconds, then gave me a barely perceptible nod.

I released her hands. “Go grab us that one on your nightstand, please.”

She slowly scooted off of me, still breathing hard and rubbing her ass cheeks for a few moments. Picking up the water, she downed the rest of the half-liter bottle, water trickling out the side of her mouth. She wiped it, panting still.

She looked at me when she realized she drank the whole thing. A scared look crossed her face. I realized her eyes were bloodshot as I held her gaze.

“Is… is there another one?”

Wow. She actually thought of someone other than herself.

“Yes, thank you. Over in the tub. Please bring me one.”

She did so, handing it awkwardly to me. She looked at herself in her full length mirror on the back of her door. She slowly turned around but looked over her shoulder so she could see her bottom.

Slowly, she peeled down the hem of her yoga pants to inspect the damage. She gasped as just a few inches down she saw bright pink.

She looked over at me. “Can… can we be done now?”

Most of the sneer was gone from her voice, and most of the fire seemed to have gone out of her eyes.

But, only ‘most.’

“Bailey, there’s learning a lesson, and then there’s knowing a lesson. I want you to know, to understand fully.”

She nodded her head reluctantly. She didn’t want to give in to me, she was still fighting it. She looked at my crotch, my bulge very apparent.

“Come over here, please.”

She looked down at the floor and took the eight steps back to me. She began to crawl over my lap when I stopped her.

“Why don’t you just lay face down on the bed… but keep your feet on the floor… that’s right, just bend at the waist. You know what? Let’s stuff a couple pillows under you… perfect! That’ll be a little more comfortable for you.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly. Her ass stuck up noticeably in the air now, her legs trailing down to the floor.

I stood up straight and unbuckled my belt, sliding it slowly out of its loops.

“Oh… God… Roger, please.”

I folded the belt in half, wondering what the ‘please’ was for. Please don’t hit me with that or… please do hit me with that?

“You’re lucky I’m not a big fat guy or the belt would be longer. The longer the belt, the faster it travels, and the more it stings.”

I grabbed a small pillow and gave it to her to hold.

“Bite or scream into this, it will help.”

I stood to her left side so I could swing with my right arm. I took a few very slow swings to make sure I got my footing right, that I wasn’t too close or too far. I backed up a couple inches, finally satisfied.

“Count these for me, Bailey. If you lose track, we will start over. Thirty isn’t that many.”

“Thirty? God, no!”

“Wow. Okay then. Forty.”

“No! You asshole! Twenty!”

I swung the belt hard.

Strike!

She grunted hard. I waited a moment. Then spoke. “You want to negotiate? Fine. I’ll meet you in the middle. Thirty-five.”

Strike!

She yelled at that one. “That’s not lower! That’s higher!”

“Thirty-seven?” I asked.

Strike!

“Ahh shit, Roger! Ouch!” She reached back to try and rub her bottom to get some relief.

“No! Or I will whip your arms too. Did you want to start counting at some point? We’re still at zero.”

Strike!

“Shit! Motherfucker! That’s four.”

“No, Bailey. That’s one. You haven’t counted any yet.”

“One, fuck.”

I struck her rapidly with the belt, full swings but very fast.

Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike!

Bailey howled into her pillow, screaming to God and cursing everyone and everything.

I heard the key in the door and went to intercept Tracy.

“Roger?” she asked.

“She’s fine. We are making great progress.”

“I’m not sure about this.”

“It’s working, go back out there.”

I went back to the bed. Bailey was too busy trying to breathe and hadn’t heard Tracy come in or go back out.

“How many is that, sweetie?”

“Um, I think four?”

“It’s actually five, so I will let it slide since you didn’t try and cheat. I need to check the damage though.”

With that, I tucked my fingers...