Anna and Natalie 5

During the two weeks before the finals Nat really saved my life. I had to get up early, eat properly and if I didn't have classes, I had to sit at the dinning room table and study. No TV, no phone, no going out except to the store and throwing out the trash which were ways to get some fresh air. She released me of all other chores. Once I even got couple of warning swats with the wooden spoon for washing the dishes instead of finishing a chapter I had started before the dinner was done.
***
That day when she found out about everything I started surprising myself with the effort I was capable of. No problems concentrating with her working on her laptop across the table. When my mind started wondering and I ended up staring into nothing (you know that feeling when you're not looking at anything really but you're eyes are open), she could somehow feel it, I don't know. Not even fully looking up she would just say: "Anna" and my stomach would turn and my butt cheeks start tingling, and concentration was back.

After about three hours and only one bathroom break I was starting to feel tired and more importantly studying became way more difficult. I was struggling but didn't dare say anything. Almost an hour of that torture worked its way up, painting my thoughts black. I can't do it. This is all in vain. It's impossible!! What was I thinking? I am dropping out and that's it. I must have been breathing differently and/or making faces but when I lifted my head decided to tell her that I'm giving up I saw a stern inquisitive glare waiting for me.
The courage dissipated at once and only despair was left. I guess she felt sorry, although her face didn't show it. To be quiet honest I didn't take too good a look because I lowered my eyes and mumbled.
"I am sorry Nat... I am sorry for everything but I really can't do this... It's impossible... I mean for me... I am not capable..."
"You are very much capable. I will, however, accept whichever result, as long as I see the effort we agreed upon.What I won't tolerate is giving up, feeling sorry for yourself or any other bad behavior. I don't care if you have to study standing at this table, but you will do as I say, because I know you will be happy in the end. And I want you to be happy." I wanted to disagree... I wanted to scream BUT I AM NOOOOOT CAPABLE...
"Why can't I remember anything if I am so capable?! Why can't I even understand this shit?!" I fell silent under her glare. She took her glasses off,  slowly. Closed her laptop, just as slowly, and got up. Now, I know that she was thinking about the right move: should she just grab the wooden spoon and give me a release from the vicious circle of my thoughts, should she quiz me on what I had been reading - but what if I truly didn't remember, then she would be proving my point, should she just let me go for that night, it was quiet late after all. She took the wooden spoon before she had actually decided what to do. Finally it clicked. She had to know the truth, proving my point or not.
But that night, not knowing her train of thoughts I almost peed  when I saw her go for the wooden spoon because my butt was still so sore. I noticed that my eyes were already full of tears and my lips curling, I felt like remembering and understanding were up to me. Like not being able to memorize or comprehend was for the lack of effort not for the lack of intelligence or memory capacity. And of course, I was sorry....
"I am soooryy,... Nat... please I am sorry... please I will study... please don't any more... please...I can't take any more...." She stood in front of me with the spoon in her right hand and looked at me.
She was still angry about the whole thing, but at that moment she was touched by my sincere repentance. For some reason she decided that hugging me at that moment would be counter productive. (How could it ever be counter productive!!! I mean, hug is the most wonderful thing you can do at any point!) She moved the book  closer to her.
I was surprised. I expected her to order me to go over her lap or to grab me by the arm, although she had never actually spanked me over her lap or by her hand, which I regretted, seeing in it the love I read about in FF domestic discipline relationships.
"Stand up" And I did. My quivering legs somehow holding me.
She started reading random sentences and demanded I talked about them. At first I felt awkward and scared and didn't speak that well, but later when she put the spoon down, took her glasses and sat in my chair I started feeling better. The first time I didn't know the answer at all, I got scared again, but she just wrote something down and continued. After half an hour she gave me the list of pages I had to go over. If I didn't know something on page 45 for example, I had to reread 44, 45 and 46. The list was pretty long, but the feeling that it all depended on my effort hadn't left me. Well, at least not that night.
***
After two days of progress and cheerfulness, I realized I was actually already a whole day behind the schedule she devised that fateful day. She didn't say anything and I saw that she was satisfied, but I wasn't. I knew I would do badly despite of the torturous hours of trying. I was already sleepy that morning and when Nat left for work I went to the couch and fell asleep. I kept waking up, thinking I heard the phone, or someone knocking at the door, and then falling asleep again in the matter of seconds. After having wasted 5 hours I finally got up, mad at myself. The goal felt so far out of my reach that I didn't even think of trying to study. I went for the food. Half an hour later, disgusted by myself, I went to the bathroom crying, hitting myself in the belly, wanting to hurt myself so badly... I just wanted to die.
I threw up and cried, and when all but the stomach acid was out, I rinsed like twenty times and cried some more... hit my head with the fists and washed my face and punched my thighs.... barely retained myself from doing something worse...
I didn't hear her come in.
I was sitting by the bathtub hugging my knees. The tears had run dry. And except for the deep scratch on my upper arm where I dug in the nails at some point, and the red puffy eyes, there weren't other traces of what had been happening in there.
She startled me :"Anna...?"
I got up quickly and got pretty dizzy. For a second I just saw darkness and some sparkling dots, but I pretended that I was looking at the floor.
"Sweetie, are you ok?" She held me and I hugged her. I didn't want to let her go, ever. She was stroking my hair, and kissed me couple of times. I just held her in my arms, my face on her shoulder and in her beautiful hair. Finally she gently pushed me and held my face in her hands. I loved the sound of her bracelets when she moved her hands.
"What happened, sweetie? Were you throwing up? Were you sick?"
I knew that I shouldn't lie, but it would be so easy... how about a half-truth. I want her to love me and hold me. I don't want her to get angry. But, by the time I looked up, her expression had changed.
 I couldn't decipher it. Was she suspicious, angry, disappointed, worried..? Could she know what had happened. My brain was so slow.
"I am sorry... I ate a lot... I... " I wanted to say I got sick, but she finished instead of me.
"You had to make yourself throw up?"  My eyes must have betrayed me.
"Anna, are you bulimic?... Oh, my God, you are... Sandra warned me..." The realization hit her.  "Let's go sit down." She took me by the arm gently, but I winced because she placed her hand on the scratch.
"What's ..." and she saw it. Her eyes grew deeper, darker. She was speechless.
I felt even worse. Like a stupid freak, psycho, idiot...
I wanted her to yell at me, to punish me, not to make a big deal out of it. I didn't want to be some psycho case...
"It's nothing, Nat. I'll just go back to the studying, ok. I haven't done too much today. I ate and I was sick, and I threw up... yes, I did it on purpose, but because I got sick. I am not bulimic or any of that stuff. And as for the scratch,... " I was trying to think fast, but no good explanation would come to my mind. I glanced at her face to check how I was doing so far, but she wasn't strict. She was serious and worried. I could see that she was thinking about something else, not even listening to me.
 "OK? So,...  do you want a cup of coffee?" I dared and at least partially succeeded.
"Yeah, sure" She said absentmindedly and went to the living room.
Why did I accept this responsibility. I've never wanted to be a mother... I should have known that would be my role here...Well... I am the father... and the mother is 2000 miles away... missing her... Lidia would have noticed it ... but, ok... she would have freaked out and probably sent her to the shrink or something because she would have felt helpless... Should I make an appointment with the psychiatrist? I know what my Felicia would do... she would have spanked her, and then made her eat until she finishes what's on the plate... Am I becoming my mother, God! But that sounds like a very good idea actually. no.... it sounds like an easy solution... dealing with the consequences... What?! 
"Sorry, Anna, what did you say?"
"I... said here's your coffee and ... I asked if you were ok...? And.... I didn't say it, but I am sorry about everything... I am sorry for being such a mess and always... taking so much of your energy... I really want to be a perfect kid... I mean... person... and I would like if I could make your life better not worse... I am sorry..."
Natalie didn't know what to say. She wasn't one of those people who would comfort you and say no, you're no trouble, although they actually think you are.
I thought she was quiet because she had nothing nice to say. She patted the couch beside her and I sat.
"How often do you vomit after overeating?" she asked calmly with concern in her voice. I couldn't sense one bit of anger or disgust and felt tempted to say the truth, but I thought it would be OK if changed it just a little bit.
"Well... sometimes... it's like once in two weeks, sometimes... it's less..."
"And sometimes it's more often??"
"Well, usually it's really not even once in two weeks, but... like I think it's connected to my period, ... I get sad... or... nervous..."
 Ok, does this mean she's not bulimic if it's not that often? Is this not too often?! How much is she lying? Agrrr I'll need a psychiatrist!! 
"And what about that scratch?"
oh-oh... Why did she have to go there?! Shit... what do I tell her... what is half of the truth ... it happened ... no... let's say a quarter of the truth....
"Well couple of times a year, when I am really stressed out... I ... "  I wanted to say hate myself, but I knew that would be too much. She couldn't help me with that... "I ... got anrgy..." Oh, why didn't I go for a lie?! Why is she looking at me so attentively. Can she read my mind?
 Couple of times a year is probably every month... Does she cut herself? 
"Take off your shirt." She said it as if we were just talking about my tan or a something. "Why?" I was buying time. I didn't look, I mean usually I don't get bruises...well on my legs ... couple of times but not on the belly... guess it's the muscles...  I don't hit myself thaaat hard... Yeah, I'll give her the top if she lets me keep the bottom.
"And your sweatpants" Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeez is she freakin' reading my mind!
"Come on, Nat it's... "
"Anna, now." Before I met her I never knew that someone could practically whisper and make you obey as if they yelled your head off. I was standing in my panties and the sports bra, the sweat pants around my feet and the T-shirt in my hands.
"Turn around" I wished that there was a mirror so I could see what she saw. I felt so embarrassed.
 Ok, so it wasn't psycho all the way, maybe a tantrum... If she were a toddler, she'd be over my knees and never repeat it again. But this is deeper... Lidia!!! This is your fault!!! 
"You can put your clothes on and tell me what you did today. The whole day, and don't you dare... No, actually, keep the sweatpants down and come closer, it might be good for you memory."
Oh, for God's sake tell her the truth. Tell her the truth... she's looking so stern... aaaa... I can't tell her...
"Well... when you left I studied for a while... and... then..."
"How long a while?"
"Well for about... two and... well three ... yes about... three and half" SWAT! Ooouch!
"Would you like to reconsider your answer?"
"No, I did..." Swat, swat, swat ... and then I tried to move away and finally got what I had thought I wanted... a loving over the knee hand spanking... and.. oh, was I wrong for wanting that kind.
"Naaaaaaat!" I was surprised. My head on the couch cushion, feet kicking the coffee table. I tried to get up, but she just locked me down with left arm and adjusted my body so she had a better hold of my waist. "But you can't!"
"I swat can't swat swat swat!?! Yes,  swat I can swat swat take a baby swat swat over my swat swat knee" She didn't bother with making the spanking even. My right butt cheek was about to be set on fire any moment now.
I was bawling within minutes. There was something about the position, it wasn't just the pain. The vulnerability and the closeness.
"Please ... Nat... plea- ease... " She was slowing down, and I was feeling a bit better actually, I mean emotionally, when she ruined it by saying.
"Ok, now that you've been spanked like a baby, do you care to tell me the truth, or should I go get the belt?" Where did the love I thought I felt go?!The caring!? The closeness! Why wasn't she helping me stand up and hugging me, and stroking my hair, clean slate and all... ?
-Don't - SWAT - owww - try swat - owww- to swat swat swat -get up -SWAT - aoooww
"ok...Whe- en youuuuuu weeeent I caaaa-aaame here aaaand slept until about one.... Plee- eease don't spank me aa- any more.... I love -you" She released my waist and I finally got my hug.
"I know, sweetie, I love you, too. And from now on you have to tell me the truth, ok?" She held my face in her hands and made me look in those beautiful hazel eyes as I promised I would.

"Go wash your face and come back so we can revise our plan, ok, love?"
"Can't I stay a little bit longer? I need a hug..." I was imploring her knowing that I wasn't going to get a hug after she sees how far behind I am on 'our' plan...
"Oh, you big baby. What will I do with you?" She said as she put her arms around me.