A Birthday Surprise (Whitney Engen & Tobin Heath, Tobin Heath/Christen Press, present day+ UNC flashback)
May 29, 2024
"Rise and shine, Tobs."
Tobin jerked awake, not expecting that voice right next to her head when she was sleeping. She squirmed, seeing who was leaning over her, Tobin's mouth dropping open just the tiniest bit.
"Whit? What the h-how did you get here?"
Whitney Engen Flanagan was perched on the side of her bed, grinning in a way Tobin did not at all like.
"Well...I suppose I ought to plead the fifth on that one..."
"Curse you and your attorney career, what, are you in cahoots with Vivian now?"
Whit's smirk widened.
Tobin groaned into her pillow.
"Great."
"You should be grateful." Whitney chuckled. "But besides being an ace attorney--" This reference got a pillow swung at her head, which Whitney ducked effortlessly, "That'll cost you, brat--I'm a fantastic baker, as you might remember."
That, Tobin did remember, and she sat up. "Did Ash and Chris ask you for a cake?" she asked, and Whitney nodded.
"M-hmmm. And I was happy to oblige. More than one, even."
Tobin sniffed, the scent of cinnamon and sugar floating in from the kitchen. "Coffee cake? And birthday cake later?" she asked, getting another fond chuckle.
"That's right. But these things don't come for free, babe."
Tobin gave Whit a wary look. She recognized that tone. "Okay, why do you sound like you did when we were at UNC and Ash was--" She cut herself off mid-sentence. "Oh God, you're not serious."
"Serious as I've ever been."
"Whit!"
Whitney snapped her fingers. "Up."
"Have I mentioned that I hate you lately?"
Whit raised an eyebrow. "Do you want that cake or not?"
"Do I get coffee with it at least?"
"You have ten seconds to put yourself over my knee before I do it for you."
Tobin groaned, but reluctantly crawled out of bed and draped herself over the not-officially-retired defender's lap. "You're mean."
"M-hmm."
As Whitney’s hand connected with her bottom (thankfully over her pajama bottoms, for now) Tobin was reminded of the first time this had happened.
@@@
May 29, 2007
“Time to get up, bratling mine.I have a surprise for you.”
Tobin scrambled backward as her roommate pulled her from slumber. “W-what time is it?”
“Time for someone to get up, if you don’t want to be late for church that is. And Whit and I have a little surprise for you before you go.”
“S-surprise?”
“Up, Tobin Powell.”
The newly-minted nineteen-year-old gave Ashlyn a sideways look as Whitney Engen entered their room. She spotted the box her fellow freshman was carrying and looked hopeful.
“Cake?”
“Only when you earn it.” Whit put the box to one side and seated herself on Tobin’s bed. “Over.”
“Whit--”
“One.”
“But, Whit--”
“The only ‘but’ I’m gonna hear about is that one, or no cake. Two.”
“Don’t make Whit get to three,” Ashlyn advised with a casual grin, and glaring, Tobin scrambled into position, yelping as her bottoms were jerked down.
“Whit!”
“You know the rules, you make me count, you lose these.”
Tobin whimpered as the first mild smack landed, and Whitney counted. “One.”
@@@
“Five-- Tobin Powell, are you even paying attention?”
In the present, Tobin snapped out of it as Whitney bared her, making her squirm. “Whitney, no, not bare please!”
“Only when you earn it, bratling mine.”
Five more smacks, plus the sound of Ash’s nickname for her coming from Whitney’s lips made Tobin groan again, and she yelped as the smacks resumed. They were no harder than before, but even what passed for love-pats with Whit could sting.
“You haven’t spanked me like this in forever,” Tobin protested.
“I knew it had been too long.” Whitney punctuated each word with a mild smack, bringing the count up to seventeen. “We’re almost half done, don’t worry.” After eighteen, Tobin felt something else familiar tap her bottom; Whitney’s maple-backed hairbrush, wherever she’d been hiding it.
“Whit, not for a birthday spanking?”
“Don’t you remember the rules, bratling mine?”
Tobin did.
They had been in place since 2007, has it really been seventeen years, Tobin thought, yelping as the first smack of the brush connected. Whitney was using no more force than she had to spank Tobin with her hand, but the brush naturally made more impact.
After she’d fussed for Whit that first time, back at UNC, her fellow freshman had traded hand smacks for the hairbrush halfway through her punishment. Of course, nineteen with one to grow on had been quite a bit different - only ten hairbrush spanks, and only the final one really solid.
Thirty-six plus one was quite different. Eighteen hairbrush smacks, plus one more, would smart a good deal more than ten on the longer warmup she’d already had.
And then the next smack with the brush, landed - a good deal harder than Tobin was expecting. She yelped.
“Whitney Elizabeth Engen!”
“Not the time for you to play the Top, bratling mine. You’ve needed this spanking for a while.”
Tobin sputtered indignantly as the next real hairbrush spanks followed, all the way up to thirty-six, reddening her bottom. She fought tears, not wanting to cry over Whit’s knee and wondering what in God’s name Whitney had planned for the ‘one to grow on’ if these were all real.
At thirty-six, Whit left off, and the last smack fell - Whitney’s hand, across Tobin’s sit spots, but not very hard at all. The shock of the reversal had Tobin squirming and drumming her feet on the bed as Whitney rubbed her scorched bottom gently.
“Shhh, bratling mine. It’s alright, it’s alright, you did well,” Whit cooed. “I’ve got you Tobin, you’re okay.” She eased Tobin’s clothes back up and drew her friend and former teammate into her embrace, upright, held tight against her chest.
“W-why…” Tobin cried on Whit’s shoulder, as Whitney hummed to her.
“Because even Tops need a little special attention sometimes. Isn’t that right?”
Even Tops need a little special attention sometimes.
Yes, that was a lesson Ash and Whit had taught her back at UNC too, when she was still figuring out what her Classification meant.
“I’m sorry Whit.”
“It’s okay. Let’s get you that coffee cake.”
Yawning, Tobin followed Whitney from the room and to the kitchenette of the hotel suite, where Christen was already waiting for her. It had been Ali Riley’s idea to give the pair a day away for Tobin’s birthday, though they hadn’t gone far - the hotel room was still in Los Angeles. Privately, Tobin wondered whether Christen and Ali had conspired with Ash to sneak Whitney in.
Probably.
“Good morning, Tobs, love.” Christen gave her an innocent smile. “Happy birthday. Coffee’s ready, and it’s not even hotel coffee. Want the cake to go with it?”
Tobin accepted Christen’s hug and kiss, and the tug over to the counter which made her almost forget her burning bottom.
“You’re a lifesaver, Chris.”
“Thank Whit, she brought the goods.”
“Thank you, Whit,” Tobin said dutifully.
“You’re welcome. I’m always happy to take care of you.”
Tobin grimaced. “I know.” She blushed at Whitney’s laugh, and sat down (reluctantly) at the table, grateful for the pillow Christen had put on her chair. Whit poured the coffee as Christen sliced the cake, and the three of them enjoyed a light breakfast together.
“You know, we used to do this with Ash every year,” Whitney remarked. “That first year, we had to get Tobs ready for church, too, and she went to services with a red bottom under her pink dress.”
“Really?” Christen sounded interested, and Whit was only too glad to tell tales out of school, so to speak.
As her past was rehashed for Christen, Tobin squirmed and focused on her cake. Thank goodness it’s Wednesday today.