Welcome To Corbin's Bend

by Thianna D

  "How are you feeling?" he asked.

  "Not sure. Wore out."

  "I'm not surprised. Your body has been running on adrenaline for a while now. Would you like to tell me what happened?" The question sounded innocuous, but she had the feeling he would have rather demanded it. His inner warrior probably wanted to go kick Nathan's ass right now.

  "I'm still in shock. I mean, how could he have kidnapped me?" And for what? Just to ask her to marry him and then be turned down? It made no sense.

  "Why don't you walk me through what you remember? Then we can try and figure things out." His soothing voice, along with his warm hands, which were slowly stroking her back and legs, helped to keep her calm. She started talking, haltingly at first, but she was able to tell him everything she remembered. When she was finished, Brent was confusingly quiet. She would have expected an outburst from him. Looking up into his face, she could not tell his expression either. His jaw was tight, but other than that, there was no indication of his mood.

  "Brent?"

  He leaned down and kissed her softly. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that. You do realize he didn't just kidnap you, which is a federal offense, but he took you over the border into Mexico, which makes it an international crime."

  "I know. He said he would leave me alone now." She wanted to reassure him though even she was not sure she believed it.

  He snorted. "Right. The man lives in some alternate universe, Char, if he thinks he can kidnap someone and not pay for it. The police in St. Louis know what happened, as does the FBI."

  "The FBI?" she exclaimed, pulling away.

  "In a kidnapping case, they're always pulled in."

  "But… I told him if he let me go that I wouldn't tell his father he did it."

  Brent raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "You don't have to, Char. After we talked, I called my friend who was in charge of the investigation in St. Louis and told him who kidnapped you. I can promise you: Nathan's father knows."

  Enrique's words came back to her and now made more sense. She wondered just how much Nathan's father actually knew about his own son. Flumping back against Brent, she shook her head. "I just want to forget it ever happened."

  "Not possible, Honey. Not at first. But we have three therapists that live in the community who have already offered their services to help."

  Grimacing, she nodded. "Great. Shrinks."

  His body shook with silent laughter. "Yes. But if you get it all out now, it won't haunt you for long."

  "Maybe. I'm still trying to figure out how I ever fell for the guy. He's so pitiful."

  "Maybe they can help you with that, too," he offered, grunting when she elbowed him in the ribs.

  "Maybe," she yawned.

  "Come on. Let's get you to bed."

  "Mmm. Sounds good. Stay," she whispered, lulled to sleep as he carried her to bed.

  Chapter 9

  Hi, Char!"

  Shaking her head in amusement, Char waved at the two ladies across the street. She had no idea of their names, but since she came back from her kidnapping ordeal a month previous, she found herself even more of a celebrity in the development. Every woman went out of her way to offer her friendship and a shoulder to cry on if needed, and every man offered his help if required. It would feel a little strange if it weren't for the fact that she still saw a little infighting and a few arguments.

  At the Thanksgiving dinner they'd gone to for the community, no less than ten squabbles broke out, the worst of which happened when three women all showed up in the same dress. Laughing softly at the memory of their aghast expressions, Char continued along the street, huddling in her heavy winter coat against the cold breeze. She was meeting Brent for lunch at the clubhouse, and as her therapist was only a few blocks away, she had parked at the clubhouse and walked. Now, she was thinking that was a bad idea. Her knees were numb from the cold.

  Stepping into the warm clubhouse, she gladly removed her coat as she stomped her feet to get rid of most of the wayward snow clinging to her boots.

  "Hey, Char."

  Looking up, she smiled. "Hi, Jonathon. Is Benjamin home yet?"

  "Three days. I can hardly wait."

  "I bet. Will he be here for the holidays?"

  "Yes. In fact, he says he has a surprise for me, though I have no idea what that could be."

  "Maybe it's a new paddle," she teased.

  He grinned. "Just you watch out. The word is out about you and Brent."

  Pausing on her walk toward the stairs, she turned back to him. "What do you mean? Everyone knows we're dating."

  "Yeah, and they all know you two are in a DD relationship now. Don't be surprised if for Christmas you receive a lot of spanking implements."

  "You have got to be kidding me." At least she hoped he was.

  Snickering, he shook his head. "Nope. After Ben and I moved in, we received twelve paddles. With Brent being so well known… Well, don't be surprised if you receive one from every household."

  "Ahhh!" she said in a mixture of horror and desire. So far Brent had only spanked her with his hand, though she of course had seen many spankings online with different paddles and leather implements. And at the public disciplinary action the day after Thanksgiving, she saw all three of those women who had picked a fight with each other soundly paddled by their husbands for their actions the day before.

  Deciding that Jonathon would be a good one to ask, she followed him into his office. "Does that public discipline thing happen often?" she asked in a whisper, not wanting anyone else to hear if they were in the vicinity.

  "No. Ninety-nine point nine-nine percent of all discipline is done in the home. But when someone affects the community as a whole, they are disciplined in front of it."

  She grimaced. "That's kind of embarrassing."

  He flashed a grin at her. "Yeah, but it makes you not want to do anything that would cause it to happen to you, doesn't it?"

  Laughing, she nodded. "True. See you later." She turned and walked back to the stairs. While climbing up to the third floor still wasn't easy, it did not make her as winded as it used to. As she reached the top of the stairs, she heard Brent's voice.

  "Yes. Thank you. That was all I wanted to know." His door was open, so she walked up and rapped on it. Looking up, he smiled and waved her in, surprising her when he turned the phone on speaker.

  "—keep it up. I don't think there will be any more problems, though. Not with him in hiding."

  "Josh, Char has just arrived. Char, this is Joshua Treders. He was one of my partners when I was on the force and is now a detective in St. Louis. He was on your case."

  "Oh!" she said, realizing what he meant. "Hello."

  "Hello, Char. I'm glad to hear you got back in one piece. Otherwise Brent would have been a pain in my ass. I just called to tell him the latest we have is that Nathan has disappeared. We're pretty sure he's out of the country, and considering the fact his father isn't happy with him, that might be where he stays."

  Grimacing, she nodded as Brent pulled her around his desk and onto his lap. "Thanks for calling, Josh. If you hear of anything, let me know."

  As Brent finished up the call, Char reached for the two bags of food on his desk and began to unpack. She was pleased to see takeout from Endelé. So far she had sampled food from each of the restaurants in Corbin's Bend, and they were all amazing, but Endelé was still her favorite. It might have something to do with the fact it was where he took her on their first date.

  "How was your appointment?" he asked after she put a spoonful of enchilada in his mouth.

  "Good. I like Traci. She's funny and I have to admit, there is a plus to having a therapist who gets the whole spanking side. I don't have to downplay it."

  "Why are your pants all wet?" he asked, his hands running over them.

  "I walked to and from her house."

  "You walked?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Honey, I told you to drive."

  "Yeah, but she's only a couple blocks away. It isn't li
ke she's very far. It is cold out there, though," she commented, taking another bite of food. The room became very quiet, in a way that sent her abdomen into a flurry, as if someone released a bunch of butterflies, and she looked up at him. His gray eyes stared down at her and he slowly shook his head.

  "What are our rules, Char?"

  Surprised, her eyes grew wide as she went over the three rules he had given her when she willingly entered into a DD relationship with him.

  "To let you help me. To never lie. And—" She grimaced as the third came to her. She was so focused much of the time on reminding herself of the first one that the third had seemed inconsequential until now. "Umm, to do what you ask me to."

  "Without question," he added calmly, and she winced, nodding.

  "Sorry about that. It just didn't seem like that big of a deal." It really hadn't. Until she was on her way back, walking into the wind as the snow and ice pelted her. But he didn't need to know that, right? Or maybe if she admitted to that part, it would make him feel better. "I'm sorry. I should have listened. The walk back was brutal. I'll pay better attention next time," she assured him, turning back to get another bite of food. When his hand forestalled her movement, she peeked at him over her shoulder. "Brent?"

  "Do you remember what I said would happen if you broke one of those rules?" His words and his eyes were kind, but they were also firm, and she had the feeling he would not let her out of answering. And why should it be hard anyway? He spanked her for fun all the time. Would it really be all that different? Remembering the three women the day after Thanksgiving, she had the feeling it would be very different.

  "You would spank me," she said, hating that her voice was so tiny. She wasn't afraid of Brent or his hand. Why was she acting this way?

  "Correct. Except for the cases of public disciplinary action when we work to make sure no children are present, I believe the discipline should happen immediately. As such, you will receive ten swats for your disobedience."

  He stood her on her feet and she shrugged. Ten? He must mean this as a reminder. At night, he swatted her forty to fifty times or more.

  "Wait here. I'll be right back." Kissing her forehead, Brent left his office. She could not hear his feet on the stairs, so she assumed he walked into the storeroom which was also on this floor. Looking around at his office, she tried to figure out where he would do it. Across his desk? Well, now… that had interesting and fun possibilities. Would he fuck her afterward? She rubbed her thighs together in anticipation.

  At the sound of the door closing, she turned around, her eyes taking in the large wooden paddle that he held in his hand. "Brent?" she squeaked, more surprised than anything.

  "The arm of this chair will do," he said, pulling one of the chairs out and patting it.

  It felt unreal walking up to him and the chair. Women on the videos she had seen always made blanket promises before being punished, but she had no intention of— "I won't do it again," she assured him, blushing as the words came out without her permission.

  "Good. Take your jeans and panties down, and bend over."

  Fuck. He actually meant to do it. Well, at least they were on the third floor. Nobody else's office was up here. Plus he had closed the door.

  It felt… different. Brent stood watching her, but it wasn't with the look of lurid passion that usually came from him when he told her to strip. Instead, the look in his eyes brooked no disobedience. Shit. Why could she not have just driven over there? Anxiously, she unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, pushing them and her hot pink panties down to her knees.

  "Good girl. Now, bend over the arm of the chair."

  Taking a deep breath while reminding herself that this wouldn't be bad at all, she stiffly bent herself over the padded arm. "Rest your head on the seat and hold on to the other arm." She felt stupid doing so, but she did not want this discipline to get worse, so she rested her cheek on the cool leather and grasped the opposite arm.

  When his hand came down on her cool ass, she jumped slightly but then calmed down a bit as he continued. He had just teased her with the paddle. His hand she could take without a problem. She felt a little guilty about breaking that rule, but not too bad. After all, she was still well and fit and—

  Whack!

  A wail left her lips as what must have been the paddle came down, hitting both of her buttocks at the same time. Holy shit! Nothing should hurt that bad!

  The paddle came down again, this time on her right cheek, and she tightened her hold on the other arm, clamping her lips shut. It was only ten of them. Surely she could handle ten—

  "Fuck!" she screamed as with a crack it came down in the same spot, sending fire licking across her skin. Her muscles shook as, without conscious thought, her body began to shimmy to her left to try and get off the arm and away from the paddle.

  His hand rested firmly on her back as the next blow fell.

  "Brent! Please!" she said, aware that tears were falling from her eyes and that she was blubbering, sure she could not handle ten of these blows. She wouldn't have an ass left the way things were going. It would be charred completely by the time he was done.

  When the paddle fell on her sit spot, her mouth opened in pain even as no sound left her throat. This was bad. Very, very bad. "I won't do it again!" she cried out, ready to make any promise necessary to save her bottom.

  "Good." His calm voice would have helped, except he did not stop.

  Thwack!

  Writhing under his hand, she burst into full sobs as the paddle continued to rain down upon her inflamed derriere. She had no idea how many had fallen, but she was sure it had to have been at least twenty. Her ass burned like a five-alarm fire and throbbed continuously. And yet, the paddle came down again. And again. Collapsing onto the seat, she gave up trying to fight, her mouth open as silent sobs left her throat. Sniffling and hiccupping, it took her a few minutes to realize when the paddling had stopped.

  Brent was kneeling next to the chair and stroking her hair back from her face, his soft gray eyes watching her. "Char?" he said softly.

  "Yes?" she squeaked, her lips trembling from the fire that was still burning across her entire backside.

  "How do you feel?"

  The fighter in her wanted to yell that question back in his face, but there didn't seem to be any fight left. "Tired, and my tush is on fire."

  "I'm sure." He chuckled softly, though not in an unkind way. His eyes were filled with love, which made it difficult to hate him for what he'd just done.

  "Are you done?" she sniffled.

  "Yes, Honey." He helped her to stand up and, with the gentlest touch, he pulled her panties and jeans back up and fastened them. Lifting her up in his arms, he walked back to his desk and sat down, settling her on his lap with her rear hanging off. He kissed her softly, his lips barely moving over hers.

  "Now what?" she asked when he pulled back.

  "You're forgiven," he said simply. "Slate is clean. We start over again."

  Leaning her head against his shoulder, she nodded slowly. "I don't think I'll make that mistake again. I prefer good spankings, not bad ones."

  Smiling, he nodded. "I'm sure you do. But in time, you'll come to see the validity of what you call the bad ones. They will help our relationship just as much as, if not more than, the erotic ones."

  Squirming a little, she grimaced as her seat rubbed lightly against his leg. "Ouch."

  "Yes. You'll be sore for a little while. But your ass was barely red. The pain won't last too long."

  "B-barely red?" she spluttered, thinking about the heat radiating from her hide at the moment. "No way!"

  "Afraid so, Honey. Believe me. This was nothing compared to the kind of spanking the women received last week."

  Her mouth opened but she wasn't sure what to say. Calling him a liar could not possibly end well. "Uh, if you say so."

  Smiling, he reached for the fork and brought a bite of food to her mouth. "Eat, Char. I think I will take the rest of the day off and come
home with you."

  "Why?" she asked, slightly apprehensive.

  He grinned as she took the food he offered her. "How can I put this? You know how amazing a good fuck feels after an erotic spanking?" She nodded, wishing this had been just that. "Well, after a discipline spanking, it takes on an even deeper meaning. So, I figure we'll go to my place and I'll fuck you into my mattress."

  Her pussy clenched, giving her an answer that should have made her blush. Instead, she found herself grinning. "Promise?" Maybe he could take her mind off her aching bottom.

  His eyes twinkled. "Oh, yes."

  She swallowed quickly. "Let's go."

  The short drive from the clubhouse to his house took too long, though his house was much closer than hers was. At the moment, Brent wasn't ready to tell Char just how much seeing her bent over, taking her discipline from him had turned him on. Though if she looked at his crotch at all, she might get some sort of indication. It was a good thing he was wearing jeans and not dress pants, or nobody would be in doubt of his desire.

  He gained great enjoyment from spanking Char for pleasure, but there was something about a disciplinary spanking, watching the one you loved accept it from you, that was the biggest turn on ever for him. The first time Eliza bent over for a punishment, he had fucked her immediately afterward because he could not help himself, and her enjoyment of it tripled his. If Char and he had been anywhere but at the clubhouse, he would have done the same with her, but fucking her where, because of the shape of the dome, everyone would have heard was not something he would do to her. For one thing, it would have been rude. After all, at some point she would find out that Jonathon had heard her being spanked, and that would be embarrassing enough for her. For another? He did not want anyone else to hear the amazing sounds that came out of her mouth when his cock slid inside her tight, wet cunt.

  Those were for him and for him only.

  Char had only been to his place a couple times as he had one of the smallest homes, and they just always seemed to gravitate to her place. But a bed was what he needed, and he had a nice one, though he had not slept there much lately. Opening the front door, he smiled when she rushed in ahead of him and started to pull her clothes off as she went toward his bedroom. Good. She was just as horny as he was.