by PK Corey
Cal’s Law
PK Corey
Blushing Books
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
About the Author
EBook Offer
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PK Corey
Cal’s Law
EBook ISBN: 978-1-68259-990-7
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
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Chapter 1
It was late, nearly midnight, as Sherriff Cal Bennett came wearily into his small office within the squad room. He’d tried to give the room a calm feeling. He wanted people to relax when they talked with him, not an easy feat in a sheriff’s office. He had pictures of both the mountains and the coast on the walls, along with a few pictures drawn for him by his nieces and nephews. Cal sank into a chair beside one of his deputies. “Tell me why in the hell I decided to run for sheriff in a small college town?”
“You’re a stupid idiot?” suggested Jake Potter, his right-hand man.
“Thanks. I knew I could count on you for understanding and support.” Cal and Jake had grown up together in the low country of eastern North Carolina. Besides going to school together they’d spent a lot of time camping and fishing. Living a short bike ride from one another they both felt as much at home with the other’s family as they did their own. Cal knew Jake shared his major frustration about their job.
“Seriously, you’d think a small private college would attract the elite, but all we seem to get are the rich brats.”
“You’ll survive. Pledge week can’t last forever,” Jake told him.
“It’s going on its third week now. It’s nearly February,” Cal griped. “I thought it was bad in the fall, but I swear this rush for the second semester is getting worse every year. It scares me, seriously. Somebody’s going to get killed, alcohol poisoning, drunk driving, drag racing, date rape—it’s a scary world out there. I don’t like locking these kids up. But nothing’s worse than contacting a parent about a dead kid.”
“It’s the parents I’d like to lock up,” Jake told him.
“We should,” Cal agreed. “Most of these kids would be fine if someone had busted their ass occasionally when they were younger. I know that’s not politically correct to say and you know damn good and well I’m not talking about child abuse, I’m talking about discipline and making these kids responsible for their own actions. You know my dad usually just talked to us when we got into something—one of his ‘I’m disappointed in you talks’ could nearly make a boy cry. But he used his belt on occasion and if the talk didn’t work, that sure as hell did.”
Jake laughed. “It was your mama I was scared of. You remember that time we were wrestling and knocked the clothesline down with her clean wash on it? She had us both dancing to her switch and I nearly got it again ‘cause she sent me home to tell my mama what we’d done.”
Cal smiled at the memory, “And you’ll notice that despite what the experts now say we didn’t grow up hating our parents or becoming serial killers. Now these parents come in to bail their kids out and tell them, ‘Don’t worry precious. Mommy and Daddy will pay the fine and we’ll get this mean policeman. How dare he try to stop you from driving your new Porsche ninety miles an hour through that neighborhood. He’s probably just jealous his daddy didn’t get him a Porsche when he graduated from high school’,” Cal mimicked in a simpering, high society voice.
“You got it, if we could get a judge to sentence some of these kids to a trip to the woodshed most of them would straighten right up,” Jake a
greed.
“I’ll be sure to suggest that at the next town council meeting,” Cal commented sarcastically as he got to his feet. “Oh well, I’ll see you tomorrow and we’ll do it all again.”
On the drive home Cal let his mind wander back to his decision to run for sheriff. Back when the idea had first crystalized in his mind, he knew he was much too young. He’d only been twenty-five. But he’d loved being in law enforcement and he couldn’t stand the way Sheriff Talton Reins ran the county. Reins had been sheriff for nearly eighteen years when Cal decided to challenge him. Reins could have come from central casting had someone asked for a good-old-boy sheriff, pot belly included.
He had no huge scandals, but his friends were well taken care of in the way of dismissed speeding and parking tickets, all the way to the occasional DWI. He took care of main street, but did little to help the rest of the county. Something Cal had noticed even as a boy. He’d talked it over with Jake first, then his family. Everyone seemed to like the idea. His folks explained that there was little chance of him winning, but it might just shake Reins out of his complacency. His dad had pointed out the most serious outcome, which was that when he lost, he and Jake and any deputies that outwardly supported him would lose their jobs.
“You’re probably right,” Cal had agreed, “so I guess I better win.”
Cal and Jake had both enjoyed the campaign. Both men spent their days off low key campaigning. Cal had spent his spare time talking with folks: small business men, farmers, folks working at the factories, as well as the college administrators and students. He listened to what they liked and didn’t like about the way things ran under Sheriff Reins. If it was something he had no power to change he’d tell folks, it they had a complaint about something that Cal planned to leave in place, again, he’d be honest. But often people gave him good suggestions that he thought would help and he kept detailed notes.
Sheriff Talton Reins barely bothered to campaign, simply stating he wasn’t worried about that little boy taking his job. He should have been. When the election was over Cal and his straight forward answers to all the people he’d talked to carried him to a victory with a margin far larger than he’d ever imagined. Reins had angrily stated that more than half the deputies were completely loyal to him and they’d quit before supporting ‘that boy’. He was wrong again. Cal had talked to them all in small groups. He explained the changes he would make right away as well as the changes he’d like to see come about over the next year. He told his deputies they were truly needed and asked them to give him six months and see what they thought before they thought of leaving.
After his talk, one man quit and one retired. The rest stayed and now almost three years later, crime was down and morale was up and Cal loved his job. The college gave him the most trouble, but even that seemed to be calming down as his deputies got better and better at calming situations as well as controlling them. Now if they could just survive pledge weeks.
Chapter 2
Jenny Anderson froze in terror. Had the man awakened? Could she make it to the door? Her whole body tingled with fear as she tried to disappear into the shadows near the bedroom door.
The sudden light in her eyes blinded her. She heard the man shout and her mind screamed in panic with only one thought, get away! In her terror, she sprinted for the door but the man was on her. His arm snaked around her waist and she was yanked backwards and off her feet. She dropped her bag in her mad effort to get away but she was half dragged, half carried back into the bedroom. She let out one strangled scream and the man tightened his grip pushing all the air from her lungs.
He pulled her to the dresser as he fumbled inside the top drawer. Her mind was still reeling when she felt cold steel on her wrist and another wave of sheer panic shot through her as she realized she was now being handcuffed to the bed. Every story she’s ever heard about kidnap and rape raced through her mind.
Once she was secured the man stepped away from her and back toward the dresser. His eyes were cold and hard. He could hurt her badly and her eyes swept the room looking for an escape. Nothing! There was no hope. Finally, her eyes came back to the man and she saw the gun lying on the dresser by his hand.
Fear froze her as the man began firing questions at her, “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house? Damn! I could have blown your frigging head off. And what the hell are you doing with my shoe?” Jenny looked down to see that she was still clutching the man’s shoe she had so quietly slipped into the closet to take.
“I, I’m really sorry,” Jenny stammered. “Here,” she held out the shoe, “you can have it back. Just let me go and I swear I’ll never bother you again.”
The man ignored her words and stared at the girl before him. She didn’t look homeless or destitute. She had on a college tee-shirt and matching sweat pants, Nike running shoes. No, she didn’t look like she’d broken into his small house looking for money. Her dark brown hair fell past her shoulders and framed a frightened, but beautiful, face. Incredible eyes, he thought. Dark blue and long dark lashes… he couldn’t help staring into those eyes. Shaking his head to clear it he got back to business. “Answer my questions. First, who are you?”
“I’m Jenny Anderson.”
“All right Jenny Anderson, what the hell are you doing in my house, in my bedroom at two o’clock in the damn morning?” The man casually reached for his jeans hanging on the chair and pulled them on over his boxers.
Jenny didn’t want to answer, it seemed so incredibly stupid now but no plausible lie was coming to mind so she began with the truth.
“My sorority gave me a list of items I had to get from a local house in order to…”
“My god!” the man interjected “You risked your life breaking into a stranger’s house on some kind of asinine scavenger hunt? How old are you anyway?”
“Almost twenty,” Jenny answered. “But you don’t understand,” she started earnestly, “it’s not just to get into the sorority—I’m in that because of my mother—this was to get in to a secret society within the sorority. The girls in that group really run things and…” Jenny trailed off again as the man looked at her as though she had begun speaking in tongues.
The man looked so confused Jenny took the opportunity to give him her most winning smile. “Please,” she said sweetly, “I really am sorry, and I didn’t really take anything—you have everything back. Now if you will just take these cuffs off I’ll be on my way.”
The man almost smiled before he caught himself. He could only imagine the times that beautiful, innocent looking smile had gotten her out of trouble. Well not this time.
“Come on,” Jenny demanded, shaking the cuffs a little, “let me out of these things and I’ll go.”
“Go?” he repeated. “The only place you’re going is to jail. You break into my house, try to steal my stuff, and you think I am just going to let you walk out of here?”
Jenny’s eyes narrowed and she dropped the sweet smile. The man realized that this look was probably much more normal for her.
“Listen mister, I said I was sorry. But I am not about to go to jail. Look at this, you have me handcuffed to a bed. What kind of a pervert are you? I’ll tell the police you held me against my will. That’s kidnapping. And if you don’t let me out of these things right now I am going to tell them you tried to rape me.”
The man stared another moment then reached for his cell phone and tossed it beside her on the bed. “There you go,” he said. “Call nine one one. Better yet, hit two, that will ring directly on the sheriff’s desk. Of course, I’m not there to answer it at the moment, but I am sure one of my deputies will pick up.”
Jenny’s eyes widened, “You’re not…” she began.
“Sheriff Cal Bennett at your service, ma’am. Youngest sheriff ever elected in Beaufort County. Now let me see if I have this right,” Cal began. “In order to get into some fancy-assed, spoiled, society girl clique you broke into my house to steal… what all were you going to steal?”
Jenny dug into her pocket and handed him a small piece of paper. On it was printed:
• TV remote
• salt and pepper shakers
• tooth brush and tooth paste
• one dress shoe
• bonus points, one lock of hair
“This is some group you are trying to get into kid. But all you got yourself is a big pile of trouble. I am taking you in now. You can call your parents from the station.”
“You can’t call my parents!” Jenny cried. “They’ll kill me! Mother couldn’t possibly stand the embarrassment. She wouldn’t shut up about it as long as I lived and Daddy said I can’t go to Greece this summer if I mess up one more time. Please, you have to let me go.”
“So that is the kind of discipline you’ve had all your life? And how did Daddy think you messed up before? Eat with the wrong fork at dinner?”
“Daddy’s all pissed about my grades first semester.”
“How bad were they?” Cal asked.
“I failed three of my five classes. But it’s not my fault—not that it’s any of your business. But they’re all eight and nine o’clock classes. Who can make it to class that early?”
Cal thought back to his college days. He worked two jobs in addition to carrying a full load. He worked in the bar until four in the morning and never missed an eight o’clock class.
“Look,” Cal snapped, “I can’t listen to any more of this crap. You are under arrest. This is a small county and we keep our court dockets up to date. Your trial will be within two weeks and our judges are very severe with college students gone wild. So don’t expect mommy and daddy to make this go away. You could well spend some time in our county jail. Don’t worry,” he told her as he saw the panic growing in her eyes, “I run a good jail and no one will hurt you. But someone needs to teach you a lesson and my county work farm is the best place I know.”
