Where They Both Belong (Corbin's Bend)
Page 7
It all started with two of her best friends showing up just before noon. Kayla and Shandra had been her roommates in college and the three of them together were a force to be reckoned with. They hadn't even told her they would be in the area and seeing them on her doorstep, even with her face covered in green gunk, had been wonderful. But they wanted to drink.
Too embarrassed to tell them that she couldn't drink without Trevor's permission, instead she told them there was no alcohol in the house and they could get something to drink out. This way there would be no telltale signs from the small cupboard that did hold a few bottles her boyfriend kept on hand. Going out with the girls, she actually barely thought about her rules. They didn't seem…important…while at Endelé, the one Mexican restaurant in the community. So it was easy to order a margarita. And then another one. And another.
To be honest, she had no idea just how many she drank. There was a hazy memory of being asked to leave the restaurant because the three of them were so noisy, and after she got home and her friends left, she spent all afternoon drinking water and coffee to sober up before Trevor got back. Thankfully, he didn't get home until after she went to bed and he was up and out of the house before she got up this morning. If she could only be sure of who had been at the restaurant to know if it was anyone Trevor might see today.
Corbin's Bend gave every community member a mentor, someone to help them as they got used to this new idea of a spanking community, where you didn't have to hide that part of you. Hers was Rose Rolson. Rose had explained three weeks ago that none of the tops had any compunction about telling another top if their partner was out of control. The last thing she needed right now was some busybody thinking it was their business to tell Trevor she had screwed up.
Of course, she could always hope nobody would think twice about it. After all, they didn't know her and Trevor's rules.
The loud buzz of the timer made her jump and she walked into the kitchen, quickly removing the lasagna from the oven. It looked perfect. Damnit. As did the banana cream pie for dessert, the fresh homemade bread, and the honey butter she had whipped up for it.
You're trying too hard, she told herself bluntly. And he's going to notice.
There wasn't much she could do about it now. The whole house smelled of fresh bread and lasagna. The sound of the garage door opening made her tremble and she grasped the countertop to stop herself from shaking. I'm not scared of Trevor, she reminded herself. No, what she was scared of was far worse, something she hadn't even consciously admitted to herself until now. At what point would she screw up their relationship so much he wouldn't think it was worth saving? Only six weeks into this domestic discipline thing and she had already screwed up both of his rules. Why couldn't she get anything right?
"Hey, Baby," he called as he came in the house. "Something smells wonderful."
"I hope so," she called back. "I thought we would start off the year with a few of your favorites. Since we didn't get to spend yesterday together."
Two strong warm arms wrapped around her from behind, squeezing softly. "I missed you yesterday. Did you have a good time?" He dropped a swift kiss on the top of her head and began to remove plates and cutlery from the cupboards, helping to set the table.
"It was okay," she said, wanting to get off that subject. She might need to mention it, but she wanted to soften him up first.
"Nothing exciting?" he asked, his back to her.
Her head swung around and she stared at him for a moment before answering. "No, kind of a boring day."
The food was tasteless. She ate, forcing herself to smile and chat, but everything tasted like cardboard and was even harder to swallow. He asked her questions about her day, pausing after each one of her answers, as though cataloging them and then would ask another. Her skin prickled and she found herself having to stop her hands from scratching. "I have pie," she squeaked as he stood up after finishing the food on his plate.
He nodded. "Later, Britt. Stay here for a moment." His face was impassive, his blue eyes holding some emotion she was unsure of. Once he left the room, she rubbed briskly at her arms, trying to get rid of that awful feeling that covered her skin. "Brittany, please come in here."
Her heart dropped even as the food she just ate tried to rush up back up her throat. That was the same thing he said last Sunday. And in the exact same inflection. Standing up, she took a few deep breaths as she followed him into their bedroom. Her eyes immediately alighted on the far right corner. When they moved in, he had purchased a sawhorse, attaching a padded leather top to it and placing it in that corner. She knew that was where serious discipline would take place, but up until now, it had been covered with a blanket.
It was no longer covered.
Even worse, the offensive paddle Brent had given him was in his hand.
"I—" she whispered, having no idea how to continue.
"I stopped in to see Brent today," he said quietly. "He had quite the interesting story to share with me. About my girl. Drinking and being so disruptive at a neighborhood restaurant that she and her friends were asked to leave and how he had to drive the three of you back as none of you were fit to be behind the wheel of a car."
A sob ripped from her throat and her eyes closed even as tears leaked from the corners. It was worse than she thought. Not only were they thrown out, but of all people, it was Trevor's cousin, the head of the housing board, who had to deal with them. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, her hand over her mouth, trying to stop the sounds that were threatening to burst forth.
"You lied again," he said. "I gave you several times tonight to come clean. You didn't." She opened her eyes and looked through the watery film at him, trying to see if he was angry or disgusted, or even worse, through with her. "Yes, I knew before I came home and when I walked in and smelled the amazing dinner, I knew what it was, Brittany." His voice tightened with emotion. "How could I enjoy it? This dinner wasn't cooked because you wanted me to come home to my favorite foods. It was cooked to help cover your breaking of our rules. Take off your pants and underwear."
Her mouth had opened to apologize, but the last line robbed her of thought and she stared at him, her eyes drying up even as her behind tensed.
"Brittany," he repeated slowly, "take off your pants and panties."
A small part of her wanted to argue that this wasn't needed. She'd made a mistake. After all, she was human, right? Even as all the arguments went through her head, she found herself stripping off her shoes, pants and underwear, laying them on the bed and moving over to stand next to him.
"Bend over the bench," he explained, "and hold onto that ring."
For the first time she saw a large metal ring that was bolted to the wall. It was only half as high as the sawhorse, so once she bent over she had to pull herself up and over to grasp it, putting her hind end in the air. Her feet dangled above the ground and she felt very exposed and extremely worried for her derriere.
"We discussed this when we moved in," he said calmly, resting a warm hand on her lower back. "And again on Sunday. What are our rules, Brittany?"
Usually, she would have a retort, but in this position, any desire to annoy the man behind her seemed to have fled. "No lies and no drinking without permission."
"And which one did you break?"
"Both," she whispered, completely ashamed of herself. At this very moment, she wasn't sure she deserved the man behind her. He was being so nice about the whole thing when she had basically flaunted their rules in his fa—
A screaming gasp burst from her throat as fire erupted across her ass. Flinching, her first thought was to reach back and cover her poor tush from any more blows, but by the time that thought had flitted through her head, two more cracks filled the air, each hit just increasing the burn.
"Trevor!" she screamed as two more fell in quick succession, her hand releasing from the ring.
"Don’t let go," he said firmly, an even harder whack hitting her in the crease between her plump – now scorched –
cheeks and her thighs.
Physically she wanted to fight it, to stop the pain raining down on her bottom. Emotionally, though, she couldn't. Several more swats fell and as the heat turned up on her already blistered backside, she burst into chest-wrenching sobs even as her legs kicked out of their own accord. It felt like an eternity of loud thunder claps, each one tenderizing her flesh beyond recognition. When they stopped, she kept bawling, somehow aware of Trevor's hands, one on her lower back and the other lightly drifting across the five-alarm fire that was formerly her skin.
Still grasping the metal ring, though by now it was more of a way to keep hold on some sort of sanity, she felt the chaos that covered her face, the sticky mess that just added to how horrible she felt. When the extreme sting of her tush was added in, Brittany was sure she had never felt this horrible in her entire life. And yet…even as she sniffled, she searched within her. That tightness that had plagued her all day was gone. Completely. Where did it go?
"Let go of the ring, baby," he said softly and just that loving tone made her cry again. "Shh," he murmured, bending over to help her fingers release. Slowly, he lifted her up onto her feet, holding her close as her head got used to the blood rushing from it. "Come here." He backed up to the bed and sat down, pulling her next to him, somehow making sure her tortured hide never touched the bed. Strong arms tightened around her and he held her.
With her head lying limply on his chest, she had a hard time thinking. There were only two thoughts that seemed to break through this haze of relief she was feeling. The one was the sting and the heat that engulfed her buttocks. The other was the confusion at where her guilt and worry had gone.
"How are you feeling?" he asked after several minutes where the only sounds were their breaths and her sobs.
"I don't know," she admitted. "Confused. Hot. I'll never sit down again." His body shook underneath her with laughter.
"You will. Though you will have a bit of a reminder for the next day."
"Why do I feel so—?" She wasn't sure how to describe it.
"So what?"
"Empty. All the guilt, self-incrimination. It's gone. Or at least, I don't feel it."
"It's one of the side effects some people feel from spanking. Not all, but some do. You can think of it as you paid the price and now I have forgiven you and you have forgiven yourself."
She couldn't think of anything else to say to that, so she just lay there, enjoying the feeling of his arms around her and his hand drifting along her back. "You aren't angry at me?" she finally whispered.
"No. I was disappointed," he admitted, "and I might have acted more like an ass than I did, but Brent had a lot of insight into how you were feeling about the whole incident. He specifically said you were probably feeling guilty as hell and that I needed to forgive you before I even got home." He chuckled. "He made me run around the dome until I was out of breath before he let me leave."
A little giggle escaped and she looked up at him, smiling into his soft blue eyes. "He made you run around the clubhouse?"
"Yep. Told me I had to get control of myself before I even came near you or he would kick my ass." He grimaced. "He was right, too. When I walked in and smelled the guilt food you had prepared. Ahh, Brit." He hugged her tight. "Don't hide these things from me, honey. We are both going to make mistakes, but I hate it when you hide things from me." The pain in his voice made her wince.
"I'm sorry. I just always look at the little things and think 'ah, he doesn't need to know about that.'"
Shaking his head, he kissed her softly. "I want and need to know everything. It's the only way I can be sure I'm doing the right thing. Okay?" Smiling tentatively, she nodded, feeling good for the first time since her friends showed up the day before.
"All right. Well, let's go clean the kitchen. Then maybe we can have some pie. And now I can enjoy it."
He lifted her onto her feet and she padded out to the kitchen, no desire at all for anything to come in contact with her stinging rump. They did the dishes and put everything away. Happiness, soft and inclusive, made her look at him every time one of them laughed, warming her up. After a piece of pie each, he sent her to bed. "Go on, honey. I'll be in in a minute."
She padded back into the bedroom, quickly took care of her face and teeth before climbing into bed, wincing as the sheets slid across her overheated cheeks. Lying on her stomach, which wasn't very comfortable, she finally was able to maneuver partially onto her side and unable to sleep, thought about the next day.
Her mentor was coming over to see her tomorrow. That was a very good thing. When they were introduced, Rose told her to feel free to ask anything, but at the time, she thought she had it handled and had nothing to ask. Now, however, the questions were beginning to pile up. At the top of the queue was the most important: Why did getting spanked so hard make her feel better?
Trevor slid in behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her. Kissing her lightly on her neck, he pulled her close and she forgot all about any questions she wanted to ask for several hours.
More books in the Corbin’s Bend Series
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Available at:
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Available at:
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Available at:
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Available at:
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Available at:
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