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It was an accident, really.
Some kid had been picking on Guest in the hallways. He didn’t know what they were yelling about, just yelling at him over something he didn’t do. Guest tried to ignore them, but Daisy happened to walk into the commotion. Guest tried to stop their screaming match. But the moment fists were raised, Daisy shoved the kid face first into a drawer, knocking over the porcelain vase displayed and shattering loudly. The kid was already scrambling back up for a fight. But as they heard the clicking of heels walking down the hallway, all that fiery rage drained from their face and they bolted from the scene.
That was the story they told Ocra.
The way her curved frames glinted from the light made it impossible to read her expression, her stern glare indifferent to their tale. With her black hair tightened back with a bun and her red suit looking fresh out of the tailor, she fitted better as a CEO than a caretaker for orphaned children.
“... And I keep telling them to stop but they keep targeting Guest! He didn’t even do anything wrong, they started it! I was only defending him!” Daisy pleads their case to her, ranting on about every instance that kid has crossed them.
“Enough.” As Ocra raises her hand, her voice is colder than the air around them. Daisy quickly shuts her mouth, even Guest catches himself holding his breath. The orphans didn’t dare to test the caretaker’s patience. When she speaks, you listen. What she says, you do. “I don’t care who started the fight. That vase was priceless, and I know neither of you have the money to pay for it. Who broke it?”
Guest and Daisy exchanged worried glances, both of them thinking the same thing. Any rule broken didn’t go unpunished by Ocra’s watchful eye. The two were lucky to be let off with warnings for being new, but they’ve seen what happened to children who skipped on their chores or broke something of the woman’s property. Ocra would take them to her office, and no kid would leave without a limp in their step. Daisy didn’t deserve that. She was so kind and understanding, she shouldn’t have to be punished on his behalf. He’s burdened enough people with his existence alone, he could take a few punches if it meant nobody else would get hurt.
“I did it.” Guest speaks up.
Daisy snaps over to him. “Guest, no!”
“I broke the vase, ma’am.”
“No he didn’t! I started the fight, I pushed them, I knocked over the vase-”
“Quiet!” Ocra’s voice booms over the two’s bickering, shutting the both of them up. Ocra leers over Guest, her figure easily towering the young boy. “So you broke the vase?”
Guest’s blood ran cold, his legs shivering in anticipation to make their escape. But he stands his ground, nodding slowly with a dry swallow.
“Fine.” Ocra pushes her frames back on the bridge of her nose. He could see his reflection in her rose-tinted lens. “My office, both of you.”
He was ready to argue back, begging that Daisy had nothing to do with this and that only he was to blame. But Daisy takes his hand, giving it a squeeze. While her smile reassures him, he could feel her grip tremble. Orphans whisper and stare as they march over to Ocra’s office. Guest kept his head high, remembering what his parents always told him:
“Be strong, always be strong.”
Guest’s version of Ocra’s office was scarier in his imagination. Other orphans trying to scare each other with rumors of what torture devices that woman kept in that room. But the room was just as standard and grey as anything else in the orphanage. Just her desk and a large filing cabinet standing behind it, with two chairs in front for anyone to take. But the two of them didn’t dare move an inch without Ocra’s permission, just watching Ocra clear off the work from her desk.
“Since you two are always an item, it’s best if I make an example out of both of you.” After shoving her documents back into their drawers, she walks over to the corner of the room to kick a footstool beside the end of the desk. She curls her finger towards Guest. “Come here.”
Daisy’s hand tightens again, not letting go until Guest breaks the gap between them, walking over to Ocra.
“Pull down your pants.”
Guest’s jaw tightens. He glances back at Daisy, just as shocked as he is. He couldn’t do that in front of a girl- or anyone for that matter. She couldn’t be serious. But Ocra just crosses her arms, just waiting with an impatient tap of her finger. He didn’t want to do it, but the thought that Daisy would’ve been in this exact position encouraged him to undo his pants and let them drop to his ankles. He pulls down on his hoodie, trying to give himself some decency in front of his friend.
“Underwear too.”
Guest’s face goes red. “I-I can’t do that…”
“Do you want me to do it for you?”
That wasn’t a question. He didn’t want that woman’s hands near him, let alone know what she’d do to him. Swallowing his pride, he takes his boxers and pulls them down and lets them fall with his pants. His face feels hot with embarrassment, his bare half now exposed for the two of them to see.
“Lay on the desk.”
Guest follows her command, just wanting to get this over with. Leaving his pile of clothes, he steps up on the stool and lays his body flat on the desk, supporting himself on his elbows. He fights with himself to not look over to Daisy, just standing out of the corner of his eye. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, it’s already enough that she has to see him like this. But he had more things to worry about when he saw Ocra dig a wooden paddle out from her drawer.
“You’re going to count up to twenty for each spank you get. I want to hear you loud and clear, understand?” She instructs him with the same indifferent tone she always wore.
“Y-yes, ma’am…” Guest nods. He shuts his eyes, fists tightening into his palm to brace for impact. He repeats his mother’s words over and over in his head, reassuring himself that he can bear through it. But it did little to prepare him for the first strike against his ass, yelping helplessly at the sharp pain now coursing through his body. He could feel his heart beating against his chest, adrenaline rushing through his blood.
“Count.” Ocra reminds him.
“One…” Guest’s breath shakes, followed by another shout as Ocra smacks him again with no warning. It hurt so bad, he’s never been hit like this before, worse than any punch bullies threw at him. But they were the same age as him, a grown up has never laid a hand on him before- not even his parents. “T-two…”
Another smack. He feels a tear roll down his cheek, his throat tightening. He hears the sound of Daisy whimpering, instinctively turning his attention to her. Big mistake. Her hands covered her mouth, tears running down her face. He couldn’t bear to look into her eyes, filled with absolute horror. She just buried her face into her palms and sobbed, wanting nothing but to disappear from this nightmare. Guest wanted that too.
A third hit, then a fourth. His body felt like it was on fire. Six, fifth, his bottom started to numb. Seventh, eighth, he started thinking about how warm his mother’s hugs were. He misses mom. He misses dad. He wants to go home.
The thought is too much for him, crashing his body onto the desk and hiding himself under his arms. He breaks down to pathetic sobs, letting out every emotion at once. “M-mom, dad… I-I want- d-dad… please- m-mo-mom…” He cries hysterically, begging for anyone- anything to save him.
“Eight.” Ocra reminds him of his place with another hit.
“E-Eigh.. Ehgh.. gh…” Drool spills out of his mouth, senseless babbles hitching on his rapid breath. His lungs feel like they’re going to collapse but he couldn’t stop breathing if he tried. It’s too much for him. He wants to stop. But he can’t. Please, just make it stop.
“Eight.” Ocra repeats, hitting him again.
“I- I can’t. I can’t. I-I can’t- I-I-” Guest’s incoherent babbles are interrupted by the sounds of his own screaming, the hardwood now lashing against his untouched thighs. His legs shake and tremble, accidentally kicking over the footstool and leaving them to kick helplessly in the air. His instincts tell him to get up but Ocra is quick to pin him flat against the mahogany surface. All he can do is cry.
“Stop! Stop! P-please!” Daisy falls to her knees, her voice trembling. “N-no more! I-I’m sorry! It’s my fault, just please- stop hurting him!”
Guest’s body flinches as the paddle rests against his cheek. The room is silent for a moment, save for the two children’s quiet whimpers. His face is still buried in his arms, but he hears the clicking of Ocra’s heels approach Daisy.
“We can reach a compromise.” Ocra says. “I’ll reduce his punishment to fifteen spanks, but you’ll have to do the rest.”
Guest perks his head up, glancing over to Daisy. Ocra stands over her, offering the handle. Daisy stares at the violent tool before looking over to Guest. Her pretty hair is frayed, her puffy tired eyes hiding behind her disheveled bangs.
“I… I don’t know if I can…” Daisy hiccups.
“It’s not that hard, the work is all in the shoulders.”
“B-but Guest-”
“Either deal with the consequences of your actions or keep crying in your corner, you still hurt him either way. I don’t care what you pick.”
She couldn’t talk to her like that. Daisy has already been through enough, she doesn’t have to do this for him. All Ocra’s doing is piling more guilt than she deserved. He wanted to get up, take Daisy’s hand, run away from this shitty building, and tell the police. But Guest’s legs were numb, his body too heavy to lift himself up, and his voice only making out cracked whines. He was weak, helpless to do anything. That hurt more than anything.
Daisy stumbles as she steps back up, hesitating for a moment before taking the paddle. It trembled in her hands, shuffling over to Guest with a quiet sniffle. “I’m sorry, Guest…”
“D-don’t blame yourself. I-I can take it…” He reassures her, but his rasped voice did little to soothe her.
Ocra takes her stance behind them, he can feel her cold eyes observing him. “Start off at eight. And don’t hit him softly, I can tell.”
Guest crosses his arms and shuts his eyes, bracing himself for impact. He listens to Daisy take a few deep breaths before holding her breath, striking him on his cheek. He jolts involuntarily. She’s a lot weaker than Ocra, but it still stung.
“Again.” Ocra commands.
Trying again, Daisy hits him with a grunt. A shout escapes him, her swing now having more force to it. Ocra doesn’t comment, seemingly satisfied with the effort. Following his cue, Guest takes a moment to gulp down some air. “N-nine.”
The order continues, his dry throat counting up with every strike. Time seems to go by slower, Daisy pausing between each hit to calm herself and let Guest breathe. The breaks were short lived by impatient clicks of Ocra’s tongue, forcing Daisy to get back to work. Guest’s head felt static, his world blurring into greys as every sense of his body went numb, just barely conscious enough to keep counting. He doesn’t even realize it’s over until he hears the clatter of the paddle falling to the floor.
“We’re done for today.” Ocra said.
Daisy breaks down again, crying with the relief that the nightmare was finally over. She runs over to Guest’s aide. She wraps her arms gently around his neck and weeps into his hair. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” She apologizes in hushed whispers, making tears well up in Guest’s eyes once more. He cries into her arm, all of his emotions coming back to haunt him.
“Take this somewhere else, I have work to do.” There’s a tinge of annoyance in Ocra’s voice.
They didn’t want to be in this office any longer either. Daisy pulls away, wiping her face off her sleeve before shuffling back to pick up Guest’s pants. As she did that, Guest pushed himself off the desk. He underestimates how weak his legs are, grappling onto the desk before he could fall over.
“Here.” Daisy hands his pants back to him.
“Thanks.” He answers flatly. Daisy averts her gaze as he takes his clothes back, leaning on the desk for support as he puts them back on. He hisses as he pulls his boxers around his hips, the elastic band snapping against his skin and hugging too tightly around his aching bottom. Biting through the pain, he quickly puts his pants back on and he’s decent again… despite feeling the opposite.
“Can you walk?” Daisy asks.
“I think I’m fine...” Guest attempts to stand upright, limping for a few steps before tumbling over. Daisy manages to catch him, lifting his arm over his shoulder and supporting his body. They trudge over to the office door. Guest takes one more glance behind him, seeing Ocra already pushed into her desk and hunched over her work, not sparing them a single look as the two walk out of the office.