Respecting The Golden Boy Ch 01 02

Chapter One:

I arrived at my childhood home with nothing but a garbage bag of clothes. I stood in front of door for what seemed like ages, staring at the Christmas wreath my mom hung up. They assumed I was just visiting for the holidays. What they didn't know was that my boyfriend just kicked me out of our apartment and I had nowhere else to go.

In all honesty my boyfriend, or I guess it would be ex-boyfriend now, caught me cheating with someone I worked with at the bar. When he arrived at our place, he caught me and another man in his bed and didn't hesitate to throw us out in nothing but our underwear. I collected my scraps of clothing he threw out the window and returned to my hometown - Bell Bank.

A suburban nightmare filled with stepford wives, white collared husbands, buff quarterbacks and skinny cheerleaders with no root blonde hair. You could say I was the black sheep of the family. Moving to the city, bouncing from relationship to relationship and job to job. I knew I brought shame to family but couldn't help twist the knife with them when they made me feel inferior. Mom was a lawyer, Step-dad owned an insurance company and my step brother who I loathed, was of course the quarterback, captain of the football team, straight-A'd golden boy and the family's clear favourite.

When I moved to the city he took my room and replaced my Metallica posters with ribbons of his achievements and a shelf full of trophies and accolades. All my stuff fit into a box in my mom's old office where they added a single bed temporarily through the holidays when they expected my visit. Little did they know I would not be leaving after the new year.

I took a deep breath and tried for the door to discover it had been locked. I didn't have a key of course; it had been five years since I lived there. I rang the doorbell and heard someone from the inside descending the stairs two at a time. Dylan opened the door and my mouth nearly fell off my face.

He had always been tall for his age but now he was massive. He stood at a staggering 6'6 at least, his shoulders nearly as wide as he was tall. If I hadn't known him to be a perfect goodie goodie, I would have assumed he took sterriods. His hair was a brilliant mop of dirty blonde that was darker than usual because of the winter months. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and I was startled by the curve of his pecks and the firm line leading down to his waist band.

"Olivia, we weren't expecting you." He said, taking notice of the garbage bag of clothes in my hand. "Taking the trash out are we?" I ignored him and pushed past him. "Oh sorry, you're taking the trash in." He said.

I whipped around. "Fuck you."

"We don't talk like that in this house." A voice from the staircase called.

I turned around to see my mother at the top of the stairs. She was beautifully poised in a silk blouse and pearls, hair coiffed perfectly. "What are you doing here? And what is that god awful thing on your nose?"

She was talking about my septum piercing of course. It was fake but I wore it on purpose to see the look on her face when I showed up. I was not disappointed. I noticed her eyes roll over my body taking in it's new form. I had gained a tiny bit of weight -- her biggest nightmare. I wasn't huge but my ass wouldn't fit it into any old jeans of mine. I could feel my cheeks burning hot under her scrutiny and lashed out.

"I see you've redecorated. So when I asked you for a loan and you said all your money was tied up in a project, you meant home renovations."

"Not just that, we're also saving for Dylan's college."

I turned around to see Dylan smiling dutifully. I could barf.

"Well I guess it's his fault then that I'll be moving back in."

My mom's face fell and she nearly clutched her pearls. "Moving back in? Here?"

"Then the streets I guess. But when I'm homeless and sucking cock for bus fare, I will make sure to tell everyone my mother is Jane Morrison."

My mom nearly fell down the stairs. I felt Dylan grab my arm from behind, not hard but firm.

"Don't speak to your mother that way."

My mom held onto the banister for support. Dylan let go of my arm and attended to her, helping her down. When she composed herself, she looked me dead in the eye.

"You are my daughter, of course you can stay. But I will not be threatened in my own home. In fact, I have conditions for you. If you so much as step a foot out of line, I will dump you at a whore house myself. Under this roof you follow our rules."

I stared back at her a while. I knew I didn't have much of a leg to stand on. "Fine, I'll follow your rules."

"Not just follow them. You need to work on yourself. Gain some self-respect and more importantly respect for the family. If I don't see you putting in effort, not only will I kick you out but I will disown you."

That stung to hear. I knew she meant it.

"Now you're step father and I are leaving to Germany for the holidays. I would have warned you but you never accept my calls. Dylan has to stay back because he is volunteering at the local food centre for Christmas. You will help him."

"Fine." I was actually excited about the fact I would be left alone all Christmas. There was no way I was helping Dylan either.

"Not only that, Olivia. He will tell me if you're not respecting him. You need to do as he says or I swear to God I will come back here and erase you from our lives permanently. I mean it. You have to change. Dylan here is a good influence, he will help you. If he reports back that you so much as stepped a toe out of line, you're out."

I believed her. I shut my mouth for once in my life because I knew deep down that I was at rock bottom. I knew as soon as she was gone I could give a fuck about what Dylan had to say but I would be on my best behaviour around her. And I did want to change, as much as I resisted it. I wanted to keep a job, keep a relationship. I wanted to be a good girl.

Chapter Two

When my step-dad was informed, he wasn't happy about the situation but he agreed to let me stay if I listened to Dylan. The night before they left for Germany we had a family dinner and I tried in the least instigative way as possible to voice my opinions about my being 25 and having them constantly say Dylan would be in charge when they left. However, I was sorely reminded about the fragility of their offer. My step-dad noted over shepherd's pie that I should have had more spankings as a child and maybe I wouldn't have turned out so bad. If I wasn't skating on thin ice, I would have thrown my sparkling water in his face.

Dylan thought this was amusing but also took it very seriously. He promised our parents he would make sure everything went well and that they need not worry about us during their holiday.

The next morning I meandered down to the kitchen to make breakfast and watched as Dylan carried my mother's suitcases down the stairs. "You're such a prince," she called after him. He gave me a smirk and a wink when he saw me roll my eyes.

"Olivia, did you make a pot of coffee for all of us?" asked Dylan, noticing I drank the entire pot myself already. "Do you mind putting another one on?" I could hear in his tone he was trying to torture me but while our parents were still here I would keep up the nice daughter act. I made the coffee and Mom and my step-dad seemed pleased. While in the kitchen, I could feel mom's gaze on my backside as I ate my scrambled eggs and bacon. She was quite slim herself and had always given me grief about my the size of my rear. Though the men I dated preffered it large, I knew it killed my mother that I had a fat ass. I spread a heavy layer of butter on my toast and locked eyes with her as I devoured it in three bites.

When it was time to say goodbye to our parents. Dylan kissed both my mom and his dad on the cheek and wished them a beautiful Christmas. I lingered back, not knowing how or wanting to touch either of them. My step-dad tried to put his hand on my shoulder but I dogdged it. Him and Dylan shared a knowing look that I didn't quite understand, like there was a secret agreement between them about me. "I just hope when I return you've learned how to behave properly. And take that awful thing out of your nose by the time I get back."

I smirked but bit my tongue. The night before i decided something. When she was gone, I would steal her jewelery box, pawn anything valuable I could get my hands on and leave these insane people behind forever.

After we finished our goodbyes and our merry Christmases, we watched as their car pulled out of the driveway and left the street. Dylan was standing beside me watching. Now that we were alone, I could be myself.

"So," he said. I put my finger up to interrupt him. His eyes widened in annoyance.

"No, Dylan. I don't want to hear it. I don't care what they said, you are not the boss of me and I think we should go this entire holiday without saying a word to each other. You do you and I do me. Got it?"

He stared at me a moment, seemingly considering it. "I don't think so Olivia. I meant what I said, if you don't listen to me I'll tell your mommy on you."

The way he said "mommy" made my cheeks burn. I tried to walk past him but he grabbed my arm, tighter than he had before and pulled me close to him. I was an entire head shorter than him and his hand was so massive it felt like it could wrap around my arm twice.

"Let me go!" I cried. He held me tighter and pulled me closer.

"You need to learn to respect me, Olivia. You never have but you're going to learn."

"I will never respect you, you piece of shit! You're disgusting and pathetic!" I spat right on his face but he didn't flinch. He just stood there, staring down at me, my spit dripping from his chin.

Finally he spoke, very calmly, "I guess I'll have to teach you to." He yanked me from the window and dragged me to the couch. I fought him hard but he was so strong he hardly broke a sweat. Once he reached the couch he sat down and pulled me over his thick thigh. With one hand he held both of my hands behind my back and with the other began stroking my ass.

"What are you doing!" I screamed.

"Hush! I don't want the neighbours to hear you. I'm teaching you a lesson. My dad was right that you were never disciplined properly. I guess it's never too late to start."

He slapped his hand down hard on my ass and I let out a shriek.

"Quiet!" He said. "I'm going to spank you until you say thank you."

"Fuck you! Let me go!"

His hand down came harder and he laughed when I cried out.

"You're mom was right, you really do have a fat ass. You should see how jiggly it is even through your jeans. We'll have to do something about that."

With one hand he reached over my waist and unbuttoned my jeans, pulling them down to my knees. He gave me three hard slaps.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" He asked.

My ass cheeks were burning, tears escaped my eyes as I struggled under his titanium grip. "Fuck you!" I cried.

"Gosh, you really will have to be taught." He slapped me ten times until my legs were shaking. "You should see how red your ass is. Do I have to get out your father's old belt or are you going to show me some gratitude for teaching you some respect?"

I didn't know if my ass could take anymore so I whispered thank you. It wasn't enough and he made me say it over and over again until he was satisfied.

"Now I'm going to give you ten more spanks and after each one, I want you to say thank you, sir."

I wriggled under his grip but he slapped my ass hard and I stopped. "Is that clear?" he asked."

"Yes!" I cried.

"Yes what?"

"Yes sir," I sobbed.

He didn't hold back. Each slap was harder than the last and through tears I thanked him. When he was finally finished I had a hard time getting up from the couch due to my burning cheeks. I stood before him, my jeans now around my ankles.

"Now go to your room and think about your punishment."

I could have killed him. He sat on the couch completely unbothered. I wanted to strangle him but I had a feeling he would just continue to spank me into oblivion. I tried to pull my pants up but he told me I was not allowed and to walk upstairs with them around my ankles. Reluctantly I stupidly tried to climb the stairs with my jeans around my ankles and nearly fell many times. He snickered as he watched me and I felt my cheeks go hot.

Once in my room I knew I would have to get my revenge. I laid on the bed, on my belly to relieve my sore ass cheeks and tried to plot how I would get back at Dylan. I couldn't let the next two weeks go this way but I had a feeling it could get worse.