You escape to the bathroom and take a shower. It feels amazing, the best shower you’ve had in recent memory. The hot water relaxes your muscles and soothes a lot of your stress away. When you emerge, you’re glad to slip into something clean, even though it is Grisham’s oversized shirt.
When you leave the bathroom, Grisham is sitting on the bed, her legs spread, her hands clasped between her long thighs. She gives you a look that leaves you feeling flushed and confused.
“C’mere,” she says, crooking her finger at you.
You let out a whimper, but you’re too tired to disobey and start another fight, and you know Grisham could catch you easily. You walk toward her slowly, hoping that your night isn’t going to take yet another turn for the worse. The moment you’re in range, she reaches out, takes you by the hand and draws you between her legs. She’s so much taller than you, and so much stronger and both those facts are very apparent now more than ever as you stand vulnerable, naked under the shirt.
“I don’t know how Terra runs your unit,” she says, holding you in place as you avoid her gaze. “But here, disobedience and insubordination will get you in a world of trouble, understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” you say, pulling at the hem of the t-shirt, which doesn’t feel long enough. It’s hitting about mid-thigh, but it wouldn’t feel long enough if it reached the floor.
“You probably deserve more than what’s coming to you, given the way you acted up in Surnow’s office, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt because you don’t seem well trained. How long were you in the academy before you got pulled out for this assignment?”
“A couple months,” you mumble at the floor.
Grisham shakes her head, then gives your wrist a tug and you tumble over her left thigh, your body supported by the bed. She wastes no time in wrapping her arm around you to lock you in place, but she doesn’t really need to. You’re too tired to fight anymore. It’s almost three in the morning.
“Why the heck has Terra got green cadets locked up with repeat offenders,” Grisham muses more to herself than you. “You can’t be more than, what, twenty?” She sweeps the back of the shirt up over your butt, baring your cheeks. If you were more alert, you’d complain and struggle, but as it is there’s nothing you can do as she takes possession of your bottom.
“Twenty-two,” you mutter.
Grisham snorts. “Twenty-two,” she says, her palm landing on your bare butt with a firm slap. “And with a few weeks Academy assessments under your belt. I bet they didn’t even start training you yet, did they?”
“No, ma’am,” you squeak as she spanks you almost casually.
“Well, you’re under my command for the moment,” she says as she spanks you. “Maybe I’ll manage to get some training into you before Terra gets back.”
She starts spanking you more firmly, her palm landing over and over, going from cheek to cheek. It doesn’t hurt as much as you know it could, it’s more like a hot sting which makes you squirm. She’s definitely going easy on you, and she’s definitely capable of a lot worse. It’s very different from the way Terra spanks you, this is more matter of fact. Grisham barely knows you, but she seems to know someone who needs a spanking when she sees one. And unlike Terra’s spankings, which always leave you in a heightened erotic state, this one doesn’t have that kind of energy. She’s smacking your butt because you earned it. Nothing more. Probably.
Either way, your initial impressions of her as a huge brute eager to hurt you aren’t really bearing out. Your butt is hot and stingy and your eyelids are heavy. The rhythm of her hand landing on your butt is soothing, and after just a few minutes spanking she’s lulled you into a comfortable disciplinary haze which makes you want to curl up and go to sleep.
“Time for bed,” she says with one last slap. She eases you off her lap and into the bed. It smells like her, sort of musky and floral with just a hint of vanilla. The bed is softer than anything you’ve slept on in recent memory and you sink into the pillow and sheets with a little moan of contentment. She turns the bedside lamp off, so the room is lit by the lamps over in the far corner which cast a soft glow over the room. You hear Grisham moving around you, but you don’t know what she’s doing and you don’t really care. The television turns on quietly and you hear an armchair creek as she settles into it.
It occurs to your tired mind that you’re still in prison and she’s still guarding you, but instead of feeling scared and small and punished, you feel the last thing you ever expected to feel with her – safe.