Rebecca

Well Hello my darling readers. Has anyone else ever made the horrible mistake of attempting to save a story without a chapter name and lost the whole thing? I have twice now. I'm starting to loose my sense of humour. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy it. Why not leave a review? Hint hint! Lyrics are by Robyn.. Hope I don't get sued for using them. Evie.

"It’s a simple fact that you can’t seem to handle me
No matter how you act with them you can’t handle me
It’s a simple fact that you can’t seem to handle me
Don’t matter how you act with them you can’t handle me"

I lean over and grab my mobile from my beside table, it's lost between books that I started and never finished, earings who've lost their partners and scracthed DVD's. It told me that it was thre thirty in the morning. I couldn't sleep. I'd tried everything, meditation, lavender spray, reading, listening to audio books, whale music (I got it off the internet ok?) not to mention lying in the dark for extended periods of time thinking about nothing. And by that I mean thinking about Holden. One of my nails is broken so I turn my lamp on and embark on a hunt for a nail file. This is more difficlt than invisioned because my room is possibly messier than I have ever seen it before. The turkish carpet is covered in clothes, books, files, papers, empty DVD boxes, magazines and God knows what else. I finnaly locate the coveted nail file in the bottom drawer of my desk next to my laptop charger and an empty packet of Malbro Menthol. I file of the nail and then climb back into the huge next of sheets pillows and duvets that is my bed. Oh god, my hair has gone all funny at the back. I put on my pink GHD straighters, I've got to sort out the hair, Holden's doing registration tomorrow. Now I've got to stay up bed is looking more and more inviting. My bed is quite literally like a nest. I couldn't be normal and have one duvet and one sheet, no. I've got two duvets, about fourteen pillows and three sheets. They're all tangled up together making sleeping slightly uncomfortuble. I've only got so many covers because they've all got sentimental value, the duvets are from various places I've lived, and I've also got the patchwork quilt that my great granny made, some indian embroidered blankets and some big bits of silk that I bought in a market and never really found a use for. In the end I just lie back on the bed and fall asleep with the lights on, music playing and more worryingly the hair straightners are left on in a corner of my room.
Shit! Where the hell did my duvet go, and why does my room smell of burning fabric? and Oh shit where did that water come from??
I sit up blearily (and wet) and look around. Holden is standing above me with a now empty glass. I push my wet hair out of my face and pull the duvet back over me.
'Go away...' I mumble. I curl up under the duvet.
'Up. Now.' says Holden determindly.
'Five more minuits!' I complain.
'I'll go and get more water Jones.'
'I'm getting up!' I shout. Sadist. 'Have I told you how much I hate you?'
'Not today Jones, No.' I grunt in reply and the register the smell properly.
'Why does my room smell like burnt carpet?'
'Perhaps because you incredibly irresponsibly left your hair straighteners on all night and have managed to burn a hole in your carpet?' Oops.
'Shit..' He looks grim. I look up at him.
'Are you going to...?' I ask, more than a bit scared. He nods seriously.
'Yes, but not now. We've got things to attend to.'
'Really? What are we doing today?' I remember riding, all kinds of possibility for exting trips out and about, mabey London?
'We're going to clean up this pigsty.' My mouth falls open, and then I laugh.
'Right, good one Jack. So what are we really doing?' He seems confused.
'I just told you, we're going to clean up this appauling mess. Now get out of bed. And you're wearing this today.' He chucks my school uniform at me.
'What the fuck? It's half term?'
'And your at school, therefor you will behave appropriately. I am Sir, not Jack or Holden, and you will do as I say. Now get dressed and then make use of that.' He gestures towards a box by the door, it contains bin liners, bleach, disinfectant, wood polish, dusters and dish clothes. There is also a hoover and a bucket of hot water. I pick up the disinfectant, amused.
'Its really not that bad..' I laugh. He doens't see the funny side.
'Your room is a reflection of yourself, and this is disgraceful. It has to be dealt with. Now hurry up.' I turn around, not wanting him to enjoy this, and peeled off my t-shirt, damp from his water throwing activities, and my pj bottoms. Once I've put on a bra I reach for the shirt. It's odd, its the right size but it's only got three buttons. I do them up, but its even more revealling then when I wear it to a lesson for which I havn't done the home work. The same fate seems to have befallen my skirt, whilst it fits fine around the hips, it's so short that it just grazes the base of my arse. Eveytime I bend over Holden either gets a veiw of my chest, or a full frontal of my arse, which is only just healed from the riding incident. It seems that Holden is enjoying this experince, as his trousers appear to be expericning strain in the crouth area. I shuffle over on my knees and kneel between his legs, running a hand up his thigh. He continues to read the news paper.
'Sir.. You seem to have somthing that I can help you with.' He doens't look up.
'Finish the job you've started Jones, break a habit of a life time.' Cynical bastard.
'When you said that WE were going to tidy my room?'
'Well clearly I meant you. Can you really see me in a pair of washing up gloves, or with a hoover?' What a sexist pig!
'Did your Mummy do all your cleaning Sir?' I laugh.
'Would you like me to take my belt off Jones?' I stop laughing abruptly, and go back to tidying.
Two hours later I have to admit, the place looks amazing. The surfaces have been cleared, everything either thrown away or put in it's rightful draw or shelf. The bed has been made, all the covers still very much in use. Clothes are either in the laundry or in drawes and cupboards, I've acutally hung things up. The carpet has been hovered and I've dusted and ridded the place of cobwebs. And all Holden's done is read the whole newspaper. I stand back to admire my work.
'Look Sir, doens't it look amazing?' He looks up and survays the room.
'Much better Jones, though not quite perfect.' He gets up, steps outside and comes back in carrying a beaufiufl vase of pink roses. I squeal with delight.
'Are those for me?' I giggle with happiness. He smiles and puts them down on my beside table.
'It looks perfect now.' I throw my arms around him and kiss him wildly.
'No one's ever bought me flowers before. The room looks so lovely. Of corse the only problem is that without all the mess you can really see the burn in the carpet!' Shit. I clamp my hand over my mouth.
'Oh yes, Jones. I had quite forgotten about that. Undress.' I knew that at this point, resistance was feutile, so I unbuttoned my shirt, slid of my skirt and removed my underwear, all the time keeping my eyes fimely fixed on Holden. When I was naked Holden brought over the stool that had sat by my desk and had be bent over it. Then he went to the box of cleaning supplies and took four dusters, he tied each of my wrists and ankles to the legs of the stool. In this position not only was I very uncomfortuble but completely on show. Holden walked around me, drinking in the view. He appeared to be thinking. A couple of minuits later he said.
'I feel it important that the punishment fit the crime. You left you hair straighteners on, which burnt the carpet, therefor it is important that you feel the burn. And in this hair related circumstance, I feel that using a hairbrush is the only apropirate course of action.' He picks up my heavy backed wooden hairbrush, which I now curse myself for owning. He stands behind me and runs his hand over my cool, pale skin, the he raises the brush and slaps it down on my arse. He seems to enjoy this noice because he is in a hurry to hear it again, he continues to slap the brush down on my backside. It burns and stings more than I'd ever thought that it could. After a couple of minuties I am wriggling and squealing and crying, but he continues. He keeps going until my backside is almost on fire and I am sobbing, only then does he throw down the hair brush and untie me.
'Sit on the stool.' He says. I shudder at the thought. 'I'll make it worth your while.' He promises. I sit and kneels , he puts his mouth between my legs and begins to gently and teasingly lick my clit. I throw back my head in pure ecstacy. I loose track of what he is doing because the pleasure is so overwhelming and yet conflicted with the stinging burn of sitting on my poor, sore arse. Once I have come to one earth shattering orgasem he lifts me easily and pushes me onto the bed. I lie looking up at him and look pleadingly as I unbutton his shirt.
'Please Sir, please fuck me.' Right then I wasn't too proud to beg, I just needed his cock inside me. I undo his belt and jeans and he lies between my legs, he slides inside me and I sudder with joy, I love being so filled up with him.
'Fuck me, Sir.' He pounds into me, harder and faster, after just a few miniuits I've already reached a head splitting orgasem and I'm on the brink of another, I have to bite into my fist to keep from screaming, I can feel Jack getting ready with in me and just as he's about to...
"Alice!! We're back, We've come to see you!!!" The door bursts open and in pour Alice, Athena and Anna.
Oh shit.