Subject: ZZZ Story . . . The Nightmare (M/f, nc, no sex)
From: _marycatherine <saintfrancis@earthlink.net>
Date: 18 Nov 1999 02:25:56 -0800

The Nightmare

Senior year, just before winter break . . .

In the middle of the night . . .

“Next on course is number two fifty-eight, that’s number two, five, eight, Mary Catherine Whitney riding Amazing Journey.” As the announcer’s voice dies out, Mary begins her round. Jump after jump passes . . . a flawless round is underway. The spectators around the ring and in the stands are silent, sitting at attention; all eyes focused on her. The only sound is AJ’s hooves moving across the ground and heavy strained breathing as he lands over each jump. She makes the turn after the in-and-out and begins her approach to the wall. With each stride, the fence grows larger and larger, while Mary and AJ appear to shrink. “Come on, the other side makes you larger . . . you’ll stay small forever if you don’t jump the wall,” She tells herself as she urges AJ on. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, it’s just a wall . . .” At the takeoff she suddenly hears Andy’s voice floating toward her, “No Mary, don’t . . .”

Mary Catherine screams as she flies over AJ’s head, tumbling to the ground like a rag doll . . .

She sits straight up in bed in the dark as she screams “Noooooooo!!” She’s awake, the scream dies on her lips and she feels her heart pounding hard in her chest, her breath tight in her throat, tears rolling down her cheeks. Mary reaches over and turns on the light on her bedside table, drawing her knees to her chest as she whispers to herself over and over, “Just a dream . . . it was just a dream . . .” As she calms down, she looks at the clock, 2:17 am. This is the fifth night in a row she’s woken up like this, and every night the dreams get a bit worse.

Slipping out of bed she pads barefoot over to her desk and turns on her computer. Picking up her physics text she tries to concentrate on the words in front of her, but her mind keeps going back to the nightmare. Mary doesn’t remember much about her accident. One minute she was turning AJ toward the wall, the next Andy was kneeling beside her, reassuring her, his voice slicing through the overwhelming pain that engulfed her body. The rest of the day was pretty fuzzy too. The next clear image she had was waking up the next morning at the hospital. Andy was holding her hand, telling her that she was going to be fine.

She couldn’t keep going like this. Her cast was due off tomorrow, no make that later today now, she thinks. If Andy was right though, Dr. Reardon wouldn’t let her ride for several weeks. She didn’t think she could take one more sleepless night, let alone another month. She sighed, and closed her book, heading back for bed. Sleep was elusive though and she lay awake all night wondering just what she should do . . .

The next day at Dr. Reardon’s office . . .

“Ready to get that cast taken off Mary?” Scott asks as he helps her onto the exam table. She nods relieved. “More than ready Dr. Reardon. It itches SO much!” He laughs. “Ok, now just relax, this will take a minute.” Mary Catherine closes her eyes as she hears him start up the saw and cut the cast in two—the dust settling in a fine layer around her. She feels the cast spreader pulling the halves apart and with a gentle twist her arm is finally free. After a couple of x-rays Dr. Reardon comes back and gives her a big smile. “Looks good Mary, the breaks healed nice and clean . . . see,” he says tapping at the spots where the breaks had occurred.

As he talks, he moves her arm gently. Mary Catherine winces slightly at the pressure. Her arm feels so strange, light . . . alien. The cast had become such a part of her it felt odd now that it was gone. Not that she wasn’t happy about it . . . she was ecstatic. “Feeling ok?” Dr. Reardon asks as he sees her wince. “Yeah, it’s just a little sore,” she responds. “That’s normal Mary, it’ll feel weak for a while. Don’t forget you haven’t been able to move it for six weeks. This is only the beginning. It’s on the mend, but we need to build your strength back up. Now, I don’t want you lifting anything heavy—not even books. No putting stress on it . . . that means no pushing, lifting and,” he lifts Mary’s chin so she’s looking directly at him, “that ESPECIALLY means no riding.”

Mary bites her lower lip and closes her eyes in panic. “How long . . . before I can ride again that is?” she asks tentatively. “At least a month young lady, maybe longer, and then only on the flat, no jumping for a while. Riding puts a tremendous amount of stress on your wrists. The last thing I want to see is you back in here being refitted for a cast.” “I can’t even ride just once? Our instructor says it’s best to get right back on after a fall and it’s been so long already . . .” “No, Mary,” Andy interjects from the other side of the room. “If Dr. Reardon says it’s not safe, it’s not safe.” “But Dean . . .” “But Dean nothing, you will be following the Doctors orders young lady.” He turns to Dr. Reardon and adds, “Don’t worry Scott, she’ll stay out of the saddle if I have to keep her bottom heated in order to make it too uncomfortable to think about riding.”

“DEAN!!!” Mary says in a mortified voice, blushing a bright red. Doctor Reardon laughs and pats her gently on the knee. “I’d watch it Mary, it doesn’t sound like he’s joking.” Mary nods miserably, unfortunately she knows that’s true. Dr. Reardon continues to go over her rehab . . . exercises, rules. He fits her with a neoprene brace, backed with reinforced steel. “This will keep it in a better position and make you more comfortable. I want it on except when you’re doing your exercises or showering.”

Finally he gives his ok and Mary scrambles off the table. “Don’t forget Mary, I want those rules followed,” he says as he walks her and Andy out the door. She nods slightly dazed. She’ll never make it, the nightmares are getting really bad . . . “Mary, I said I want your word.” Mary Catherine snapped out of her daze. “Wh . . . what?” “Repeat after me young lady, ‘I swear I won’t ride until the Doctor says it’s ok.’” Mary nods miserably. “I promise I won’t ride until . . . until you say it’s ok.” “Good girl. Now Andy look after her and make sure she keeps that promise.” Taking her left hand and giving it a small squeeze of reassurance Andy says, “Don’t worry, she’ll keep it.”

The next week . . .

It was terrible. Mary had barely slept in days. She couldn’t concentrate in class, horrible circles ringed her eyes, and she was cranky and restless. The nightmares came every night. Finally the term ended and she and Andy were leaving the next day for Vermont. Her checkup went well, Dr. Reardon gave her the thumbs up to ski, as long as she was very careful and promised to stay on the easier slopes and take the rest of the day off if she took a spill. No matter what she said though, he wouldn’t give her the ok to ride . . .

At 1:43 am she woke up, heart pounding and out of breath, tears pouring down her cheeks. It was unbearable. There was only one thing to do she decides, she has to take AJ over the wall—tonight before they left for winter break. She’d be careful, just once over and no one would be the wiser.

Getting up she grabs a pair of faded jeans and steps out of her pj bottoms. She yanked the jeans over her bare bottom, not even noticing she forgot to grab panties first. Mary struggled with the zipper and button, cursing under her breath. The brace was nearly as restricting as the cast! Finally they were fastened and she shoved her bare feet into a pair of navy rubber duck shoes and grabbed her hard hat on the way out the door, her pajama top settling around her hips as she raced toward the stairs and out the door.

At that moment, she wasn’t the only one racing out the door. Andy had been watching as Mary Catherine’s light went on. He had discovered by accident three nights ago that she was waking up and going to her desk in the middle of the night while he was up late going over final behavior reviews for the girls. At this time of year many girls were up early or late cramming for finals, but he knew that wasn’t Mary’s style. She was always well prepared for exams and if anything tended to get more sleep during the weeks before finals, not less, though he knew she was worried about missing that week of class after the accident. He’d waited up to see if she got up again tonight. Finals were over now, so she had no excuse.

A check with her teachers yesterday revealed that she’d been tired and unfocused in class. That wasn’t like her at all. For all of her mischief making, Mary was a very serious student. Wanting to discuss matters with her, he had gone to Varsity riding practice, only to discover that she’d stopped watching a couple weeks back, right about the time she got her cast off. Talking to Mandy and Kristin didn’t help, apparently Mary Catherine hadn’t confided in them, though they both agreed that she seemed bothered by something. He planned to coax her into talking to him on the drive to Vermont, but her sudden departure from Benning Hall changed that. When Andy saw her come down the steps and begin to run toward the stables, hard hat in hand, he yelled through the cottage, “No Mary, don’t . . .”

Stepping into a pair of battered topsiders, he pulls a sweater over his tee shirt, not wasting time in changing his pajama bottoms for jeans. Grabbing a blazer, he struggles into it and races outside, the door slamming behind him. he sprints at full speed toward the stables. “She’s lost her mind,” he thinks. “She can’t . . . no . . . she wouldn’t willfully defy me this way.”

In the barn, Mary has AJ saddled and is leading him down the aisle toward the door. She stops him and yanks the solid panel of the barn door back on its rollers, making a large enough opening to pass through. Standing in the opening she creates, bathed in pale moonlight is Andy. “Oh! What are you doing up?” she exclaims, “It’s the middle of the night!”

Putting one hand on her shoulder and holding out the other one to take AJ’s reins, Andy replies, “I think the more appropriate question Mary Catherine Whitney is, ‘What are YOU doing out of your room in the middle of the night?’ And maybe you’d like to explain why you’re taking AJ out when you’ve been grounded from riding until Dr. Reardon says you’re OK.”

Mary’s eyes drop and she begins to bite her lower lip. Tracing circles in the dirt with her shoe, she thinks to herself, “Doesn’t he EVER sleep?! It’s as if he knows her every move . . . as if he is watching her every minute.” She feels Andy slowly tip her chin up until her blue eyes meet his hazel ones. “I’m waiting Mary Catherine. Just what do you think you’re doing down here? How could you even THINK of riding after what Dr. Reardon said?!”

He sees her shaking slightly, though he’s not sure if it’s from the wind rushing through the open doorway or from fear at the angry tone that Andy hears himself using. Softening his voice, he tells her to wait a moment while he puts AJ back on his stall. She steps outside, her arms wrapped around her chest. From her vantage point she can see the riding arena and the wall jump. In a daze, Mary Catherine begins to walk toward it . . .

Mary stops in front of the wall, sinking to her knees in front of it as she runs her left hand over the surface. The tears are running down her face again and her throat chokes up. In the moonlight the wall looks scarier than in her nightmares.

Suddenly her left hand curls into a fist and she slams it down hard on the jump. “NO . . . damn it . . . make it stop . . . make it stop!!!!!” Andy comes up behind her and kneels down beside her, placing his arms around her protectively and holding her close. “Shhhhhh, Mary, make what stop?” he asks as she starts to sob against his shoulder. His arms feel so strong and safe, she wants to tell him everything . . . wants desperately for him to make it better, but she hesitates, her breath ragged in her throat. “Come on Mary, tell me, it’s ok . . .”

Andy has to strain to hear her soft words. “The bbbbbaadd . . . baaaddddd ddrrreaaamms. They, they hurt so much and no one will tell me . . .” Mary’s head slumps forward as she cries harder against his shoulder. He runs his hands through her hair, “Shhhhh, it’s ok, everything’s going to be ok. What dreams Sport, what won’t anyone tell you?” “The accident,” she gasps, “No one will tell me and I keep having nightmares. I keep seeing myself flying over . . . over his head and hitting the ground. I think it must’ve been my . . . my fault.”

Andy stood, taking her hand and gently helped her up. Silently he led her into Jeffrey’s office in Barn One. He sat her down on the couch and after a few minutes of fumbling through a stack of tapes by the VCR finds what he wants. Slipping it in and picking up the remote, he goes back to the couch, settling beside her.

“It wasn’t your fault Mary, honest. AJ tripped, he was too close to the fence to recover. You weren’t rushing him, didn’t cut your turn, he just stumbled and it was very bad luck that he went down with you. Maybe I made a mistake not talking to you about this before, but Jeffrey and I didn’t want you to watch the tape of your fall, we thought it would be too upsetting. I guess not talking about it made it worse.” He starts the VCR and puts his arm around Mary as he forwards the tape to the right spot.

Mary Catherine stiffens as she sees herself on AJ going around the course. He landed after the in and out and she cantered smoothly around the turn toward the wall jump . . . even pace, absolutely textbook. “Now watch,” he says quietly. A couple of strides before the jump AJ trips, tries to recover, goes to his knees and Mary flies over his head, the fence breaking apart. Andy stops the tape, rewinds, and then replays it in slow motion. She can clearly see where AJ trips, that she tried to rebalance him, but that there was no way for him to recover at that close distance. Andy stops the tape just as she goes over AJ’s head and the soft blue light of the screen fills the dark room.

Mary’s eyes close and she breathes slowly and deeply as her breath tightens in her chest. Andy reaches over and strokes her cheek as he whispers, “It wasn’t your fault Sport, there was nothing you could do.” She nods. “It doesn’t stop the bad dreams though, does it?” He pulls her chin up and pushes her hair out of her eyes. “No, Sport, it doesn’t, but it might help you get over them now that you know. It’ll just take some time. I know it was a bad spill and you’re scared. I’d be scared too, I’ve had my share of spills over the years, a couple bad ones too and it takes time to get over it. Once you’re at 100 percent and Dr. Reardon says it’s ok, I’ll saddle up AJ for you myself. You need to be in top form though. If you try to jump that wall before you’re totally fit again, you might not be able to handle AJ and you could take another spill—more serious this time.”

“I’m sorry,” she finally says. “I just felt like I ran out of choices.” He hugs her tight. “You didn’t Sport, but you made a really bad decision. Riding when you’re not at your best, riding alone, going against my orders and Dr. Reardon’s. You know better than that, right Sport? Mary Catherine nods, her eyes closing again as she snuggles against him, feeling safe in his arms. “Yes Sir,” she says, her voice growing very soft and small. “Dean Sport, remember?” “Sorry Dean, I promise I won’t do it again.”

Andy studies her carefully. He knows she’s been through a lot, but also realizes what she did was WAY out of bounds. He cringes to think what would’ve happened if he hadn’t seen her—the danger she was in, the harm she could’ve brought upon herself. Andy sighed. He wanted to reach out and treat her gently, to hold and reassure her that it would be ok. At the same time though he knew he needed to be firm and discipline was called for . . . she could’ve hurt herself very badly with this stunt . . .

He gives her a gentle kiss on the top of the head. “The accident wasn’t your fault, AJ slipped, nothing more. I can’t say the same about your behavior though this evening. Do you understand what you did was wrong?” Mary nods as she sighs deeply. “I know I made a bad choice.” “Very bad Sport and you’re going to have to pay for that choice. I understand what you’re feeling, and I forgive you, but I can’t condone it.” Giving her a final hug, he stands up and pulls the straight-backed chair from Jeffrey’s desk and sets it in the middle of the room. “I’m going to go put AJ up. In the mean time, I want you to take down those jeans and wait for me to return.”

Mary stands and watches him leave. Reluctantly she starts to unfasten her jeans and stops with a blush as she remembers she forgot to pull on panties before she changed. Absolutely mortified she bites her lip. As if he sensed she was hesitating Andy pokes his head back in the office and says, “When I get back I expect those jeans to be down Mary Catherine. If they aren’t I’ll take them down myself and use that strap up on the wall.” Mary’s eyes dart to the stirrup leather on the wall and with a shudder she slowly unfastens her jeans and lets them fall to her knees. Thankfully her pajama top hid her bare bottom.

She only waits a few minutes, but it feels like a lifetime. She stares at the chair, knowing that in just a few minutes she’ll be going across his lap on it. She hated being turned over Andy’s knee like that. It was so uncomfortable, she could never gain her balance when she was draped across his lap like that. It was then that she saw the hairbrush, the one he’d had earlier in the dining hall. Where on earth did it come from?!” she though to herself with dismay. Before she could figure that one out Mary heard Andy walk back into the room and stop beside her.

She looked so small and scared, her jeans tangled around her knees. He picks up the hairbrush and sits down. He reaches over and pulls her jeans the rest of the way down so they’re resting around her ankles. Mary fidgets, clasping her hands behind her back. She feels horribly vulnerable at the moment, exposed. She starts to tremble again, harder this time.

“I don’t think there’s any point in a lecture. We might as well get to the point. Ok Mary Catherine, over my knee,” he says as he takes her by the hand and guides him over her lap. She feels her stomach tighten as he gently lays her across his knees. Mary’s face turns bright red . . . as bright as her bottom will soon be. Her pajama top is skimming the crease of her bottom now, just hidden from view. His left arm wraps strongly around her waist while his right hand reaches for the end of her pajama top, pulling it up and over. A cold breeze blows against her cheeks, but she doesn’t notice the chill air. Her skin is flushed with embarrassment of being over his knee like a little girl.

Andy taps the hairbrush against the fullest part of her cheeks . . . once, twice in order to focus Mary Catherine, then raises the brush high in the air as Mary grips the rungs of the chair. “SMACK!” The sharp sing is felt a split second after Mary Catherine hears the loud pop of the brush against her bottom. It’s much harder than she thought it would be and stings more than she imagined it would. Apparently there would be no warm up spanks today.

Mary grips the chair legs harder as the brush lands again. “SMACK . . . SMAAAACKKK!!!” Mary Catherine gasps as a rush of pain explodes. “SMACK . . . SMAACKKK . . . SMAAAACKKKK . . . CRAAAAACKKKK!!!” She gasps as a rush of pain explodes against her cheeks. The spanks are sharp and hard, coming at a fast and steady pace . . . “SMAACKKK . . . SMAAAAAACKKKKK . . . WHAAPPPPP . . . CRAAAAACKKKKK . . . SMAAAAAAACKKKK!!!!” It’s one spank after another—hot and fast and hard . . .

This is NOTHING like the spanking in the den of his cottage a few weeks back. This was a real spanking, a punishment spanking, and her first in a long, LONG time with a hairbrush. She forgot how much the hairbrush hurt, the heat was already starting to radiate off of her bottom.

Mary’s gasps quickly turn to groans, mingled with cries of pain. “SMACKKKKK . . . SMAAAAACKKKK,” “OOUWW . . . NOOO, oh please no Dean . . . OWWWWWWWWCHHH!!!!” Andy methodically works the brush around her bottom, going from one cheek to the other, starting at the bottom and working his way up. “SMACKKK . . . SMAAAAACKK . . . SMAAACKKKKKK . . . SMAAAAAAAACKKKK . . . CRAAAACKKKK . . . WHAAAAAAAPPPPP . . . SMAAACKKKK . . . SMAAACKKKKKK!!!”

Her words are useless, the spanks are hard, really hard and her bare bottom is on fire. Andy looks at the glow on her firm cheeks and he tightens his grip even more, to assure he doesn’t let Mary slide off his lap. “SMAAAACKKK . . . SMAACKKKK . . . SMAAACKKK . . . CRAAAACKKKK!!!” The once cool wood of the hairbrush burns now, every swat hot and painful. Without pause Andy moves to the fullest part of her cheeks, increasing the intensity of the spanks, then begins to rapidly move down her bottom, alternating from cheek to cheek . . . “SSMAAAAAACKKK . . . SMAAAACKKKKKK . . . CRAAAAACKKKKK!!!!!!”

Mary Catherine’s head raises suddenly and she lets out a strident howl of pain as the hairbrush lands on the backs of her upper thighs. “NOOOOOOO!!!!” she wails, starting to kick her legs. “NOTTTT . . . NNNNO . . . NOTTTT there Dean, please don't, it hurtsss!!!!” She nearly kicks the hairbrush out of his hand and he smacks her bottom with a loud, hard “POP!!!!!!” Mary’s eyes spill over and she squirms, and suddenly she’s screaming, crying, begging for his forgiveness. Andy hears the cries, her bright red bottom, knows the tears are sincere. She suddenly begins to cry hard, large gulping sobs that take her breath away. He gives her a final dozen hard swats as her body grows slack. All she can do now is cry . . .

Andy stops and holds her across his lap, waiting for Mary Catherine to catch her breath and compose herself. He knew the unique sting of the hairbrush, and he knew how much that sting hurt Mary. Unlike anything else, the hairbrush always reduced her to a teary-eyed, frantic little girl. It was what she needed when she was scared, to let that little girl be scolded and spanked, then comforted and forgiven.

Thinking about that, he gently rubs the small of her back, watching as she continues to squirm across his lap. Mary tries to calm down, to stop crying, to still, but she can’t. Her hands are still wrapped around the rungs of the chair. Despite the burn across her cheeks, she can’t seem to loosen her grip on the chair and rub the fire from her bare bottom.

This spanking hadtotally and completely stunned her. Andy’s surprised. He knew the spanking wasn’t that long but it was hard, much more so than normal. Her bottom was a hot, bright red and he pats her bottom gently, making her cry all the harder. She felt so much through the handle of the brush—the pain and anger behind the spanks, masking the usual disappointment she sensed from Andy when she misbehaved.

Finally the sobs lessen and grow weak, gradually tapering off. Andy gently guides Mary Catherine off his lap and onto her unsteady feet. Her hands immediately fly to her bottom and begin rubbing furiously. Andy stands up and puts his arms around her, letting her cry herself out. Mary cries and rubs, her knees weakening. Andy’s tightens his hug, comforting her as best he can. Surprisingly, she tentatively reaches around and hugs him back. He feels the tension in her body, but it slowly eases as she cries through her pain and fright. Mary realizes just how easily things could’ve turned out differently and as much as she was sure she’d be sitting gingerly for the next several days, and DEFINITELY wouldn’t be thinking of saddling up AJ any time soon she felt very safe.

Andy let Mary cry herself out. Finally the tears subsided and he reaches down and gently begins to pull up her jeans. She reaches out and grasps his hands just as they reach her mid thigh. “NO!” she exclaims. “I’ll . . . I’ll do it, yyyooouuu turn . . . turn around.” He stops, surprised at her sudden modesty. A moment ago she was bare over his knee, now this. He doesn’t realize for as often as he’d seen her bare bottomed and blushing across his lap over the years, she’d taken great pains to make sure he didn’t see her from the front.

Quickly he complies. “Just tell me when you’re done,” he says. Mary swiftly pulls up her jeans, stifling a groan as the denim presses against her bare bottom. She finishes fastening them, then says “All done.” Andy turns and gives her a hug and quietly asks, “Better now Sport?” Mary nods as she says, “Yes,” weakly. “Good girl, time to head back to bed I think.” Taking her by the hand, Andy leads her out of the stable and across campus.

As they walk back to Benning Hall Andy notices Mary Catherine is shivering—though as least one part of her is very, very warm at the moment. Andy quietly takes off his blazer and slips it over her shoulders. The bells on the Quad are ringing . . . 3:00 am. Climbing the stairs to the fourth floor, Andy stops in front of her door and gives Mary Catherine a final hug. “I want you to go straight to bed young lady, ok?”

Mary nods, standing on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks Dean.” He smiles at her. “Any time Mary Catherine. If you get scared again I want you to promise to come to me ok? You’d be surprised how much of a friend I can be if you’d let me.” She gives him a tentative smile. “Deal.” “Good, you want me to tuck you in or stay with you until you fall asleep?” he asks as she opens her door. Mary Catherine sleepily shakes her head and gives a fierce yawn. “That’s ok,” she responds. “I think I can sleep now. Night Dean.”

Andy stays a moment after she closes the door, wondering what was going through her mind. This spanking appears to have shaken something loose inside. She’s so open at the moment instead of withdrawing. He wonders though, will this change last until morning . . .

Mary locked her door behind her and stripped off her jeans, rubbing some of the fire out of her cheeks. After it subsided slightly she took off his blazer and held it close to her. It had his smell, it seemed as though Andy was right there with her. Feeling something hard in the pocket she reached in and pulled out the hairbrush, staring at it in wonder and fear. She sighed as she placed Andy’s blazer on the couch and the hairbrush on her nightstand. Climbing into bed and rolling over onto her tummy, she turned off the light. She closed her eyes, then reached in the dark for the hairbrush, her hand closing over the handle. For the first time in weeks she fell into a content and dreamless sleep . . .

© 1999, Mary Catherine Whitney, all rights reserved

Let go of your fears . . .