Corbin's Bend Homecoming

by Ruth Staunton

  “Geeze Louise, Lizzy Mayfield. What sort of mentor wants to know how the spanking went?”

  “I was talking about letting me know which dance steps you learned.”

  “Now who needs to confess? I’m betting Marilyn wouldn’t buy that any more than I am.” Quincy laughed when Lizzy giggled. “I’ll call you. Thanks, Lizzy, I love you.”

  “I love you too, sweetie.”

  Quincy stopped at home to change clothes as the attempt to clean the skirt had soaked the fabric as well as soaked through to her underwear. Flushing and trying not to think about all the paddles, straps, brushes and other implements she had scattered throughout her shop, she quickly pulled on a blouse of sky blue and exchanged her ruined skirt for one covered in a riot of multi-colored flowers.

  Her stomach began to fill with butterflies the moment she turned onto Paddlebrook Way. “Not as funny now that it’s not Venia’s ass in trouble is it?” she mumbled, remembering how she’d often joked about the street’s name.

  Putting her van into park, she climbed out, grabbed the plate and walked to the door. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her free hand over the floral skirt before gathering her courage to press her finger against the doorbell. Swallowing hard, she watched as it opened.

  “Can we start over?”

  Henry nodded, trying not to allow his smile to show how very pleased he was to see her on his doorstep.

  “Hello, I’m Quincy Lauder, welcome to Corbin’s Bend. Oh, and I brought you some brownies.”

  “Very nice to meet you, Quincy. Won’t you come in and share them with me?” Henry suggested, opening his front door wider. When Quincy appeared to hesitate, he extended his hand. “Please, I just made a fresh pot of coffee.” He couldn’t have been more thrilled when she laid her hand in his and allowed him to pull her into the house. “If you’d rather, I also have water or tea.”

  “Coffee is fine as long as it’s decaf.”

  “It is, I only drink the caffeinated stuff in the morning.” He led her into the kitchen and placed another mug on the counter next to the coffee pot. “So, Quincy, what can you tell me about Corbin’s Bend?”

  Quincy’s laugh surprised him as well as had him grinning as he watched her hand sweep above the kitchen counter. “Well, I can tell that if you’re not careful, you’ll gain a few pounds. I forgot you’d been welcomed already. Looks like you have enough goodies to last a while.”

  “True, but I’m still very glad for the brownies and even more thankful for your company.” Pouring two mugs of coffee and setting one before her, he motioned to the packets of creamer and sugar. “Sorry about the powdered cream but I haven’t been to the store.” Handing her a wooden stirrer, he chuckled and added, “Or found the box with the silverware.”

  “This is fine, thank you. Did anyone explain that if you want to really stock up, you’ll need to run into Denver? We have a small market but nothing close to what you can find in one of the boxed stores.”

  Adding sugar to his coffee after she’d prepared hers and passed him the stirrer, he moved towards the kitchen table, pulling out a chair for his guest. “Yes, Jeff warned me and I had planned on stopping on the way in but was already arriving a day later than I’d planned. Thanks to the very generous people I’ve met, I don’t believe I’ll starve before I get there.”

  He noticed that though she had slid onto the chair, she wasn’t looking at him. Following her gaze, he realized exactly what had captured her attention. He reached across the table to pluck the object of her focus out of the welcome basket he’d received.

  “Wow, you don’t believe in wasting any time either, do you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  He understood the moment he saw her squirm on her chair before she answered, “Um, that’s not what you’re going to spank me with is it?”

  It wasn’t her question that caught him by surprise, it was the way it had been phrased. She hadn’t asked if he were going to spank her. She was basically asking if that spanking was going to take the form of a paddling. Turning the paddle in his hand, he met her gaze when it lifted from the implement. Seeing the look in her eyes, he swallowed his first answer, which would have been to apologize for not removing the implement from view in favor of giving her his gut response.

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  Henry instinctively knew that this was quite possibly the defining moment of their future. He had faced countless competitors across multiple conference tables throughout his career. His reputation as well as millions of dollars for his company had been the prize of winning those contracts. Yet the woman seated at his simple oak table with eyes that spoke of her need, had him realize that this was the most delicate and most promising negotiation of his life.

  “On what you want.” Setting the paddle down on the table between them, he took his seat again. “When I said we could start over, I meant it. If you can tell me honestly that you don’t feel the need to atone for your behavior, then the paddle remains where it is.”

  Reaching across the object under discussion, he took her hand. “And if you tell me that you have no interest in exploring a relationship with me, if you truly aren’t looking for an HOH, the paddle remains where it is, but I hope you’ll at least consider me as a friend.”

  After a full minute of silence, she spoke softly. “I’d like to explore the possibility of becoming more than friends.” He watched as her gaze lowered to the paddle, the Corbin’s Bend logo engraved on its surface. There was a sparkle in her eyes when she looked at him again. “And I can’t honestly say I don’t deserve… a spanking.”

  “Thank you for your honesty. I know it couldn’t have been an easy thing to admit.”

  Quincy’s small smile had his heart skipping a beat. “Actually, I thought it would be a lot harder.”

  “Then I’m glad it’s not. It takes a strong woman to understand her needs and an honest one to admit them.”

  “That and the fact that after living a life of domestic discipline for decades as a taken-in-hand, it gets easier. Still embarrassing certainly, but I discovered early on that the more honest I am about my behavior, the better it is for both my conscience and my tush.”

  Henry was already very impressed with her honesty. The very fact that she wasn’t attempting to pretend she wasn’t aware of what was going to happen or to suggest they forget it told him a great deal about her. Giving her fingers a squeeze, he made his decision.

  “I think a lesson given with just my hand would be enough to remind you that cursing and slapping isn’t acceptable.” He saw her swallow but when she didn’t protest, he added, “This time.”

  “This time?”

  “Yes, Quincy. Only this time. Should you decide to repeat the behavior, then you’ll bring me this paddle and ask me to reapply the lesson. I can promise you that I’m fully capable of wielding all sorts of paddles, and I don’t mean waving them in the air.” He paused and watched her cheeks flush scarlet. “I mean smacking your tushie until you are squirming and truly repentant.”

  “Exactly how long did you stand there just listening?”

  He repeated his original answer though added a bit. “Long enough to assure you that by the time we’re done, you’ll understand that I don’t make idle promises. Are you absolutely positive this is something you wish to do and that you wish to have me be the one to administer your spanking?”

  At her nod, he stood and once more extended his hand. Nothing more needed to be said. They’d both been in DD relationships before, both had spent years in a dynamic that worked for them. In giving her his hand, Quincy was giving him her trust. While he intended to give her the spanking she needed, he had absolutely no intention of violating that trust.

  Leading her into the living room, he took a seat in the middle of the couch, drawing her down beside him. “I want you to be comfortable,” he said and at her soft snort, he had a hard time not breaking into laughter, but managed. Shaking his head, he couldn’t hide a smile.
“Okay, granted that could be misconstrued. What I mean is, I’d like you to be as comfortable as a woman getting a spanking can be. In the future as we get to know one another’s preferences, I’ll not likely ask where you’d like the spanking to take place…”

  “Meaning I could suggest that spanking take place on a pillow instead of my rump?”

  This time he did chuckle. God, you had to love a woman who could maintain a sense of humor even knowing she was not likely to be as amused within the next few minutes.

  “Don’t doubt that it will be your rump that gets roasted even though I’ll allow you a pillow to hug if you’d like.” He paused, watching as she actually looked around the room as if determining where the pillows might be located. Reaching, he pulled the pillow from behind his back and set it down on the cushion to his right, smiling again at the look on her face as she gave a short bob of her head. He turned her to face him by a gentle touch of his finger against her cheek. “And, just so you know, sassy little comments made when about to be disciplined only tell me that the spanking needs to make even more of an impression.” Quincy didn’t disappoint him by pretending not to understand.

  “I’m sorry. It’s been a long time since… well, since I’ve been held accountable for anything, much less, been, um… disciplined.”

  “That’s perfectly understandable. It’s been a few years for me as well. What I meant to ask was if you’d prefer to go across my lap or bend over either the back or arm of the couch?”

  He barely managed to stop before suggesting she could also choose to lay on the very comfortable bed just down the hall. They were already moving quickly, and he didn’t want to have her bolting out the front door thinking he was going to take advantage of the situation.

  Quincy realized two things. First, she wondered if she was so nervous because she had absolutely no idea which choice to make. Joe had never given her a choice, he’d either pulled her over his knees or instructed her in the location as well as the position he wanted her to be in before he joined her to administer her spanking. Second, though the butterflies had settled in her stomach the moment she had been honest with both herself and Henry, they were back with a vengeance as she suddenly remembered that spankings generally meant that no matter what position she chose, her skirt was likely to be lifted and, oh God, there was the possibility that her panties would be coming down. She quivered as Henry turned her hand palm up, a long finger moving to gently stroke against her skin. The jolt of desire she’d felt when he’d touched her cheek had been strong, but this caress was so soft and yet strong enough to cause the butterflies to begin their migration south. His hands were not those of a man who lived a soft life. He had callouses on his fingertip and yet his touch was so incredibly soft. A shiver ran through her as she realized exactly how large his hands were, almost as large as the paddle he’d graciously left in the kitchen.

  Lifting her eyes, she met his. What she saw in the deep blue depths helped her make her decision. Behind the calm, she saw desire. “Across your lap, please.”

  He nodded but as she looked away and prepared to stand, his hand left hers, moving to cup her cheek. “Thank you, I’m honored.” Her heart skipped as he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. Electricity shot through her body as she gave a soft moan. It wasn’t the first kiss of hesitant exploration given by a teen or one of an untried man. This man knew exactly what he wanted and how to make sure she wanted the same.

  When he released her mouth, she wanted nothing more than to kiss him again. His finger moved to stroke her lips. “You do understand that once you go over my knees, I’m not just going to spank you.” Her breath caught in her throat as he smiled. “I consider it an honor that you are giving me your trust, but need to warn you that I fully intend this to be but the first step.”

  “First step?”

  “Yes, Quincy, the first step in staking my claim on you. Not only on your little bottom, but on your heart.”

  She’d never understand how she managed to even respond as she heard herself murmur, “I’ll consider that an honor.” All she understood was that her heart felt that the statement was exactly the right one to make.

  He leaned in again and took her mouth, proving he was a man of his word; a man who was unmistakably staking his claim. As his hand moved to the back of her head, holding her close, she opened herself to him, the butterflies gone and nothing but raw need filling her soul. It was several minutes before he pulled away, then leaned in for another soft kiss before her took her hand again and guided her across his knees.

  Quincy had expected to feel awkward, to be embarrassed despite the fact she’d been over Joe’s lap thousands of times. However, all she felt was a bit of reluctance that the kissing was done and a combination of trepidation and excitement that the spanking was about to commence. Henry guided her with ease, her legs supported behind her, her torso supported in front and her bottom in the perfect position centered over Henry’s lap. The first question of what to expect was answered when she heard his instruction to lift up and she felt her face flush as her skirt was pulled up to rest at her waist when she obeyed. He didn’t give her time to be embarrassed as she felt the first swat against her left buttock. Before she could assimilate how she felt being spanked for the first time in years and for the first time by another man, two additional swats had landed.

  It took a dozen more before she began to squirm a bit. Not only were his hands huge, they were hard! The swats continued until her entire backside had been covered and her occasional gasps began to include soft yips. She was completely incapable of containing the squeal that erupted or the hand she threw back when she felt his hand stop its attack only to dip into the waistband of her panties.

  “Naughty,” Henry said, taking her hand and moving it to press against her side. “Lift up, and let’s get these panties down, shall we?”

  Shall we? Who asks questions like that? What will he think if I suggest we don’t? Quincy’s mind whirled and yet the moment he repeated his order to lift, she did so and felt her last remnant of protection being lowered, her panties pulled down to rest beneath the fleshy globes of her bottom, baring her completely. She moaned softly, unsure if the sound was one of embarrassment or one of lust. Before she could contemplate the answer further, Henry’s hand was back, fingers splayed widely across her warm flesh.

  “Tell me, young lady, what naughty behavior caused you to earn yourself a nice bare-bottom spanking?”

  Years fell away and memories of countless spankings flew across her mind. Something about being in this exact position, her bottom uncovered as if uncovering her guilt had always made her feel like a naughty little girl. It didn’t matter if she were five or sixty-five. For Quincy, the moment her underwear came down and that question asked, that was the moment the true punishment began. She’d often wondered why it was even asked. They both knew exactly why she was getting spanked. A loud smack sounded in the room as the flat of his hand landed against the very center of her naked nates.

  “Ouch!”

  “That’s not the answer I’m looking for,” Henry admonished, two additional smacks sounding, one on each buttock.

  “Because I was rude and cursed!” Quincy practically shouted.

  “And?”

  “Because I swatted you!” She shocked herself when she turned her head back and added, “But, you know if you think about it, spanking me for swatting you is a bit ironic, don’t you think? They both include hitting.”

  Henry chuckled and shook his head, his eyes on hers as his palm rubbed across her skin. “You are intelligent enough to understand the difference, but thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Quincy said, nodding as she began to turn her head back to the front. Suddenly she wondered why he’d be thanking her. Snapping her head around again, she met his eyes. “Um, exactly what are you thanking me for?”

  “For informing me that you need your spanking to be a bit more intense.” Her mouth opened to protest but before she could, he cont
inued. “After all, saucy little answers from sassy, bare bottomed women, can only mean they aren’t yet getting the point.” The moment his hand left her bottom, she buried her face in the couch cushion. It didn’t take but a few swats to have her squirming, her legs pushing against the couch in an attempt to propel her bottom off his lap.

  “Naughty,” he repeated. “I promised to help teach the penalty you’ll pay when you go about swatting people. Here, hug this because if your hand comes back again, you’ll earn an extra round.” She accepted the pillow, hugging it with both hands as he tucked her a bit tighter into his waist.

  Her friends had been right. Every smack had her recalling that it wasn’t a good plan to pop off when being spanked for bad behavior. Quincy had never believed she would ever forget how a spanking felt. She was wrong. Five years of abstinence had not only allowed her to soften the reality of being bare bottomed over a dominant’s lap, they’d allowed her bottom to become soft and unprepared for how quickly that dominant could cause her entire rear to burn. Now was definitely not the time to argue or to be flip. Now was the time to squeal, yelp and begin making profuse apologies.

  “I’m sorry, I-oh! Please, that hurts!”

  “Then I’m doing it right.” Crack… crack… crack. Another three swats smacked against her bottom. “Do you feel like cursing now? Are you going to swat me again?”

  “No!”

  “Excuse me?” Crack… crack… crack

  “No, Sir, never again!”

  “Let’s just make sure you’ll remember that promise.” The individual, distinct swats were replaced by a fast flurry. Quincy yelped and made several additional promises of better behavior. When his hand moved to direct the smacks against that extremely tender area where her bottom met her thighs, she felt the first tears slip down her cheeks. Burying her face in the pillow, she realized that he didn’t need any paddle. God had given him his very own paddle that masqueraded as his right hand.

  Crack… crack… crack. The last swats given as the first three had been, left, right, and center, before his hand came to rest over her heated skin. “The next time it will be a paddle, young lady. Do you understand?”