SSC 2004: Jenny's Tears, by Tasha

Category: picture - chair

Jenny's Tears
by Tasha


	Jenny wraps her arms around herself in the cold, bare room. It was
once a dance studio. Now it serves a more sinister purpose.
	He makes her face the wall, her hands on her head. Her school
uniform is dusty and her hair is unkempt. He tells her that little girls
who can't stay clean will be paddled. Then he walks back and forth
across the room, the old floorboards creaking with each step. He smacks
the paddle against his hand, making her jump. She shudders each time he
passes behind her. The waiting is terrible for her.
	At last he tells her to turn around. Directs her to the center of
the room, next to me. She lowers her head in shame, clutching the hem of
her skirt with dirty fingers.
	A severe reprimand and a sorry little girl's tears. He is unmoved.
He orders her to bend over and she hesitates. A sharp smack to her
backside and she obeys, her soft body pressing against me. Nervous hands
clutch me for support as he slowly lifts her skirt and pulls down her
white cotton panties. She whimpers with dread.
	He gives her twelve strokes, then adds an extra two for her
hesitation. The thin oak paddle makes her yelp and it's all she can do
not to leap up and clutch her sore bottom. But she knows that if she
does that he'll start again. Sometimes he has to tie her down.
	I enjoy her screams and squirming. But her tears are the best.
Exquisite. Streaming from her wide, frightened eyes to fall on me with a
silent splash. I soak up every one.
	Outside, the noisy Upper West Side streets. Inside, Jenny's cries
and sobs. No one hears but me.
	When it's over he makes her sit. No panties. Her warm little bottom
presses against me, so sweet and tender. I feel her trembling as he
scolds her and sets her lines. Today it's two hundred. He watches her
the whole time, waiting for her to make a mistake. It takes her an hour.
Then he checks her work.
	Her handwriting is poor, as he expects it to be from such a shaky
hand. She begins to cry again as he puts her over his knee. She clutches
my spidery legs as he spanks her and she promises to do better next
time. He makes her stand in the corner for ten minutes, where she
sniffles pitifully.
	It is over too soon. He takes Jenny back to her room, leaving me
alone with the chill and the traffic noise. Tomorrow he will punish her
again. Perhaps he'll use a switch. Or take off his belt. Then it will be
more lines and another spanking.
	These sessions will end soon. Abandoned buildings don't stay empty
long and he'll have to take her away. He already fears the police are
close to finding him. I'll miss Jenny terribly.
 But for now, I wait, and savor the taste of her tears.



 2004 SSC by Tasha

Pablo email

It can be terribly dangerous to have a narrator revealed late in a story to be an inanimate object, but this story mostly neatly side-steps those dangers by having the person or nature of the narrator a mystery almost from the very beginning. There's no cute reveal at the end; instead, a gradual dawning. And the chair is a perfect narrator for a spanking story, of course. I do think there are a few problems with point-of-view that aren't entirely solved here, though. The narrator begins with a third-person omniscience, and the looking-into-the-characters'-heads recurs throughout. I've no idea what point of view is *reasonable* for a chair to have, but it might feel more right if it concentrated solely on what the chair could see and hear and feel, rather than insight into the characters' thought processes. Example: how would the chair know that the man fears the police is close to finding him? So what we have is a distinctive narrator, but that narrator doesn't have a distinctive voice or a plausible (for a chair?!) point of view. I'd love to hear a little more about the chair's history, too. It's obviously seen a lot. (Pablo)