Weeping Willow (Spanking Story)

Chapter 2, Part 1: Owen's POV

Things were progressively getting worse at home. Being grounded caused me to be there even more than I already had to, and I was ready to just throw in the bucket and admit defeat. Maybe this was why so many great nations had crumbled under the will of a single person—sometimes being broken is the only option you have left.

Dictatorship BDC was definitely abusing its power as "leader of the household". Never before had being grounded consisted of giving up my computer privileges for school or spending every ounce of my free time being a personal slave. Did the floors really need to be swept and mopped every single day?

What I didn't understand was why my brothers hadn't just admitted defeat as well. I could tell they were just about done with me, and I didn't know why they insisted on keeping me around even more when I clearly annoyed them so much. It would have been a lot easier if they had just told me I wasn't worth it rather than acting like I was too much to handle. Two years and three months from now would be the best day of my life, finally free of my brothers; it looked like the feeling was mutual.

I didn't think favoritism could manifest in someone who'd actually chosen to raise kids that weren't even theirs. With biological parents, you don't get to go window-shopping for the perfect child—you get what you get. My brothers, however, had adopted us, and therefore chosen us, siblings or not. You'd think they'd be happy enough with their choice to not pick one child over the other. You'd think.

Perfect Penny had yet to simmer down at all with her newfound study obsession. If anything, it had increased. I couldn't remember a time in the past couple of weeks when there hadn't been a textbook in her hands. Maybe she was going for "Nerdiest Student of the Year" award or something. She was basically second in command for Dictatorship BDC.

Now that I thought about it, how could my brothers not have shown favoritism? I wouldn't have liked me very much either, when compared to Penny. It was like comparing a gold bar to an old, couch cushion penny. And, ironically, I was the penny!

Instead of moaning and groaning over the fact that I was drifting apart from my family faster than Huck and Jim, I did exactly what I do best. Well, second best, to soccer.

I escaped. Mentally, physically, and emotionally, I detached from the sick reality the world had handed to me.

I was currently dribbling a soccer ball between my cleat-clad feet, shivering as I leisurely worked my way down the field. It was after practice, which meant I should be home like a good little boy, starting straight away on my chores. Instead, I was wasting time in the icy afternoon, ears red, nose stuffed, but heart warmer than ever. I didn't really think I'd be in trouble, considering Cooper was still in his office, talking over something with the girls' coach.

The black and white spun in a forward blur, making a satisfying thud every time it made contact with the side of my foot. It was oddly comforting to think of it as Dana's head, completely at my will and mercy. It was nice to play the Devil's Advocate, for a change.

I had just sent the ball flying into the upper-left hand corner of the net—Dana got no mercy—when I heard voices from behind me. I sighed heavily, thinking Cooper had come out to tell me it was time to go. It wasn't enough time; it never was. I jogged over to Dana's—erm the ball—and clutched it reverently under my arm, walking toward the other side of the field with my eyes trained on the grass. Maybe if I seemed somewhat remorseful, he'd choose to overlook the fact that I wasn't at home.

"Owen!" Cooper called, not sounding the least-bit angry. I looked up tentatively, seeing my brother waving me over to where he, the female coach, and some girl were standing, arms clasped tightly around their midsections to keep out the cold.