Welcome To Corbin's Bend

by Thianna D

  Swallowing down a small wave a panic, she set her hands on her hips. "Where's Muffin?"

  Jerry glanced around and gave her a nod. "Morning. Breakfast is almost ready. Have a seat."

  "I asked you a question. Where's Muffin?"

  "I heard you, Eleanor, but chose not to answer. Now, sit down please."

  Her entire body stiffened. Jerry didn't call her by her first full name unless….

  As he turned toward her with a plate of eggs, bacon and toast, he gestured to the chair. Realizing defiance would only aggravate the situation; she sat down and tried to remain calm. "Are you punishing me for last night by taking my dog from me?"

  "Why would you think that?" he asked, placing the filled plate in front of her. She grimaced at the sight of the eggs he'd scrambled into a neat, fluffy pile. She hated the things, no matter how they were served, probably because Arthur liked them so much. However, talking about food preferences seemed inconsequential when her dog was missing.

  She picked up her fork and stabbed at a piece of bacon. "Why? Because I followed you upstairs last night," she muttered after swallowing down the crispy meat with a gulp of juice.

  He sat at the small kitchen table across from her. Jack watched them both through hope-filled eyes. "And where's the problem in that?" he asked, his cavalier tone sticking in her throat.

  She tossed the flatware on her plate and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not supposed to climb stairs or lift my dog."

  He met her gaze and the anger banked beneath his casual expression shot fire at her. "So, you do recall dog lifting and stair climbing are off limits to you?"

  "Yes."

  "And yet you chose to do both, knowing you weren't supposed to?"

  "I wanted to be with you. You left."

  He gave a nod. "So, it's my fault you went against doctor's orders."

  "Yes! No. I guess I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

  Another nod. "Finish your breakfast. I have to go back to work today, but we still need to change your bandage and take your blood pressure and temperature this morning."

  "Thank you, but I'm not hungry." She pushed the plate away.

  "Not hungry, or don't like what I served?"

  "It was very nice of you to fix breakfast for me, and I appreciate it, but—"

  "But what?" He frowned. "You don't like eggs?"

  She shook her head. "Arthur loved them, but I can barely stand the smell of them, so I never fixed them for myself."

  When he rose from the table, she quickly picked up her fork again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I'll eat."

  "Don't be silly," he muttered, picking up her plate and retrieving the pronged utensil from her hand before she could put any of the eggs she'd collected into her mouth. After tossing the uneaten food down the disposal, he ran some water and flipped the switch. Once metal teeth had ground the scraps into mush, he switched everything off, laid the dirty plate in the sink, then turned to face her. "We have plenty of food, so there's no reason for you to eat something you actively dislike."

  "There isn't?" she asked, her jaw dropping at his reaction.

  "Of course not. However, I do want you to eat, so tell me what you'd prefer instead. We have many different cereals. I can fix oatmeal, or pour you a bowl of Cheerios, shredded wheat, or flakes in wheat, bran or corn. What sounds good?"

  She snapped her mouth shut, then said, "I like Cheerios."

  "Excellent. Cheerios it is, then." As he set about fixing a bowl for her, Elly struggled to understand the dynamics of their situation. She sensed he was angry, and yet rather than scold or berate her for being ungrateful and disobedient, he waited on her as if she was a princess or something.

  He placed the filled bowl in front of her. "Eat."

  Staring up at him, she dared to ask, "May I have some coffee, please?"

  "A small cup. How do you like it?"

  "Milk, please. Cafe au lait."

  "Coming up." When he placed a large mug that held more milk than coffee beside her juice, he asked, "Anything else?"

  "No, thank you." With a nod, he resumed his seat and continued with his breakfast.

  She took several bites of her cereal as she watched him. "Jerry?"

  "Yes?" He met her gaze, and she had his full attention. He didn't read a paper at the table like Arthur did.

  "Are you keeping Muffin away from me as a punishment?" She asked the question, despite the growing lump in her throat. She'd already figured out his reasoning, but wanted him to confirm it.

  "Muffin is fine. She'll be spending the next few days with me until Marcus determines lifting little dogs and climbing stairs won't be a problem for you."

  She nodded. "And if I promise not to carry her or go upstairs again, can I have her back?"

  Pushing away from the table, he crossed his arms over his chest. "I think you proved last night that you can't be trusted to keep promises."

  "I didn't hurt myself."

  "No? I hadn't realized you'd gotten a medical degree overnight. Good work."

  She put her spoon down with a clang. "Okay, I was wrong. Happy, now, or should I crawl on my knees and beg your forgiveness?"

  Chapter 17

  Jerry took note of Elly's flushed complexion and flashing green eyes and suppressed his surge of admiration for her. Yes, she'd been wrong to disobey him, but she didn't admit defeat easily, which had to take immense courage after everything she'd experienced.

  "If I wanted you to crawl, it would be over my lap for a bare butt spanking." He ignored her gasp and continued. "However, I may choose to leave that honor to Marcus if I discover you've done any damage to your incision. If he determines you require additional stitches, I suspect he'll want to impress upon you the fact you need to heed orders. Perhaps he can get through to you in ways I appear to have failed."

  Her face grew unexpectedly pale, and her breathing sped up. "You wouldn't let him— I mean, would you really let another man spank me?"

  Would he? Good question. Probably not, but he wasn't sure he wanted to admit as much to her. "Let's see if it's necessary first, shall we? If you're done eating, go into the bathroom and I'll change your dressing."

  When she shook her head, he knew he'd have to draw the line neither one of them wanted her to cross. "Fine. I'll call Marcus." He rose to grab the kitchen phone, but stopped when she surged to her feet in alarm.

  "No! Please. I'll do as you ask. I'm sorry." Her entire body trembled and it took all of Jerry's willpower not to draw her into his arms and reassure her.

  Replacing the phone in its cradle, he pointed toward the back of the house with his index finger and uttered a single command. "Go."

  She scurried in the direction he indicated, and he followed her. "Sit on the toilet," he ordered as he gathered the needed supplies. She didn't hesitate to obey; although a part of him worried she'd only sunk down so quickly because her knees gave out.

  He put on a pair of disposable gloves more out of habit than need. "Lift your top."

  She did as he instructed without hesitation. His threat had spooked her much more than he imagined it would. Marcus wouldn't hurt Elly, even if he did give her a swat or two, and he'd never go that far unless Jerry approved. So, was she afraid of something else?

  Concentrating on what he needed to accomplish, rather than the tempting curve of her pink-tipped breasts, Jerry gently pulled off the old bandage and studied the gauze critically. The wound still produced a small amount of discharge, which he'd expected. "Lean back. I want to examine your stitches." He lightly probed the puffy pink flesh surrounding her incision to check for tenderness and leakage. He suspected his examination was uncomfortable, but she didn't utter a sound of complaint. Overall, he had to admit she appeared to be healing well, despite her forbidden expedition.

  "Looks like you didn't do any damage, but you're still not off the hook." He applied a fresh dressing and taped the new bandage in place. "What you did last night was foolish and irresponsible, and I'm very disa
ppointed you refused to heed the few simple instructions I gave."

  She regarded him through tear-filled eyes. "I'm sorry."

  "Yes, I know. You've said as much already." He touched her chin. "But saying you're sorry is not enough, Elly. If you won't obey me, I'm going to request you be placed with someone whom you will obey."

  Her trembling intensified as the tears she'd been holding back fell unheeded down her cheeks. "I don't blame you. I was a terrible wife, too."

  His fingers tightened on her chin. "Stop that at once. Do you think I want to send you away? Do you think it won't tear me apart inside to tell Brent we need to find you another caretaker? The rules I set are for your benefit, not my pleasure, and if you refuse to do as I ask, we'll have to place you with someone you will mind. Someone who won't hesitate to paddle that lovely bottom of yours a bright pink when necessary."

  "Like Arthur?"

  Her words were filled with so much apprehension; Jerry gave in. He couldn't let her think he'd ever allow her to be hurt that way again. Bending forward he kissed her full on the lips, and she flung her arms around his neck, practically throwing herself against him. She smelled like honey and tasted like morning. He drew back an inch. "Sweetie, I'd kill Arthur Benson before I'd ever let him touch you again, but how I feel about you being hurt doesn't alter the fact you disobeyed me. And as much as I hate the thought of causing you more pain, I can't allow you to disregard my instructions as if they were of no consequence."

  She nodded. "I don't want you to send me away, Jerry. I— Please, don't be mad at me. I understand I was wrong to disobey you, and you have every right to scold, but…."

  "Okay. We'll leave the discussion there for now. Instead, let's take your blood pressure."

  "I'm upset. It'll be high."

  "Probably, but I want to check how your pressure registers given your present mood, then I'll take your temperature." She moaned at that pronouncement and he smiled. She might not like doing what he asked, but she'd obey him without argument now. Another good step.

  Her blood pressure was a trifle high 130 over 80. Not too bad considering. "Okay, we have a choice. You can either bend over the toilet, or I can hold you on my lap."

  "Lap, please."

  "All right, panties to the floor. Good, now ease your tummy over my knees." He positioned her, making sure they put as little weight as possible on her sore spots as he inserted the well-lubricated thermometer with slow, firm pressure. She whimpered, but remained in position until he withdrew the thin, glass tube. "99.8," he reported.

  "Good, right?" she asked, her head hanging low.

  "Acceptable. Okay, stand up slowly and step out of your panties. Then go into the bedroom and face the corner between the desk and the window. I'll be back in a few."

  Though Elly did as Jerry instructed, she couldn't stop trembling. He was going to punish her, just like Arthur did. Well, maybe not quite as harshly, but she'd disobeyed the man who served as her caretaker and guardian, so now she'd need to accept the consequences. She'd known this moment would come eventually, so she did her best to prepare for the unpleasantness to follow.

  Elly wasn't a stranger to pain, and Jerry wasn't a cruel man. She would survive this. Closing her eyes, she took several deep breaths to calm her racing pulse. The trick almost worked, until she heard him return.

  Aware she shouldn't turn from the corner until he'd given his permission, Elly tried to identify the rhythmic slapping, which sounded to her like a progression of light thwacks into firmer ones. When she finally recognized the sound, her entire body tensed with dread. He intended to paddle her.

  "You may turn around now."

  Obeying, she spotted him seated at the end of bed holding a bright blue plastic object. He held the item up for her. "Recognize what this is?"

  "A thong?" Not the horror her imagination had conjured after all.

  "Yes. One of mine. Put your hand out."

  Wincing, she walked toward him with her hand extended. He smacked the molded-foam shoe against her fingers. She barely felt the strike.

  "Pain level 0 to 10. Where would you rate that?"

  Elly shrugged. "Zero."

  He rose. "Good. I want this punishment to be more symbolic than painful, since you're still healing. However, I also need to make an impression, so we're going to address several of your transgressions at once. We'll take them in sequence of occurrence. First one. You walked to the dog park after I specifically asked you to go no farther than the backyard." When she nodded in agreement, he continued. "Second one. You lied by telling me your bruised arm was nothing."

  "It wasn't important to me. It was 'nothing' given what else was happening."

  "Okay. Fair point. However, did you think the injury would mean 'nothing' to me?"

  "No."

  "No. You realized I wanted to evaluate the damage to your arm, and you refused to let me do so. Correct?"

  "I didn't want you more upset than you already were."

  "So, you thought lying and pulling away would please me?"

  "No. But I knew you'd be furious if you realized Arthur had bruised me. You'd only get a little angry if I refused to show you my injury."

  "In other words, you attempted to lessen my reaction by denying me permission to look after you, right?"

  "No." She paused. "I guess so, but it sounds terrible when you put it that way."

  "Because hiding an injury from me is wrong, Elly. I'm here to help you, and you lied to prevent a scene. I consider your actions a form of deceitful manipulation. So, the transgression is going to cost you double."

  "Double what?"

  "The number of swats. Ten for not staying in the yard and twenty for attempting to hide the truth and manipulate me. Third one. Climbing the stairs. You admitted you knew you weren't supposed to, yet you did it anyway. And since you carried Muffin upstairs along with her bed, you'll get triple for that transgression."

  "You're talking sixty swats with that foam flip-floppy thing you're holding."

  "Yes, I am."

  One had barely registered on her pain meter, so she figured ten wouldn't either. Twenty would begin to sting. Thirty would be painful. By forty, she'd have difficulty staying still. At fifty, she would start sobbing, and by the time he reached sixty, she'd be a total mess.

  "That's going to hurt," she informed him, though she suspected he'd already come to a similar conclusion. After all, causing pain was part of the process, wasn't it?

  "Some, but I don't think accepting the swats will be the difficult piece for you."

  His admission sent her stomach dropping to her feet. "You don't?" When he shook his head, she asked, "What part do you think I'll have trouble handling?"

  "I will give you a sentence you are to repeat with every strike I administer for each transgression. When the prescribed number is reached, we'll stop. At that point, I'll expect you to apologize and tell me why you won't make the same mistake again. You'll need to convince me you mean what you say, or we'll repeat the process. If at any stage you refuse to cooperate, I'll stop and call Brent."

  Her eyes burned as she stared at him. He meant it. If she didn't accept his punishment and promise not to repeat her errors in judgment, he'd send her to live with someone else. The realization he would do precisely as he threatened made Elly physically ill. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she ran toward the john. He hadn't so much as laid a finger on her and she lost every bit of breakfast he'd served her.

  Jerry followed in right behind her. Arthur never pursued her into the bathroom. He had no interest in what she did there, and no desire to be with her when she was sick.

  A cool cloth pressed against the back of Elly's neck. "Easy, sweetie. This is clearly too much for you right now, so I want you to rest." When she shook her head, he gave her a light smack on her bare butt. She'd forgotten she wasn't wearing anything on her lower half

  "I will not accept an argument on this, Elly," he stated firmly before his voice gentled. "How are you doing? Can you stand?
"

  She allowed him to help her to her feet. He wiped her mouth and led her over to the sink where he washed her face for her. Then he diluted mouthwash in a glass and handed it to her. "Gargle. The minty flavor will help remove the sour taste from your mouth."

  Unused to having anyone take care of her, Elly did as she was told, but kept wondering when the other shoe, the one meant to drop her to her knees, would fall through the ceiling and flatten her.

  "Okay. Slip these back on," he ordered, crouching down as he held her underwear out. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she stepped into her panties and he positioned them over her hips. But rather than hold her, as she ached for him to, he moved back. "Now, into bed with you."

  She gripped his hand. "I'm sorry. I should be stronger—"

  "No, you shouldn't. If you don't feel well enough to do something, you need to speak up. Vomiting also gets the message across, but there are easier ways."

  He meant his statement to be teasing, but Elly couldn't even pretend to smile. "The thought of you sending me away made me sick, not your punishment. That only made me uneasy."

  He regarded her steadily for a moment. "If that's true, we'll take relocating you out of the equation." Taking her hand, he led her back into the bedroom. Following in docile acceptance, she tried to make sense of his words.

  "But you said—"

  "I said you needed to convince me you were serious, and you did. I don't expect you to be perfect, Elly, but I do expect you to listen and at least try to obey. As I mentioned earlier, I intend this punishment to be more symbolic than painful. Up until now, I got the impression you assumed you could manage me into letting you do as you pleased. I'm easy-going, but I have my limits and you overrode several of them yesterday. I won't allow that, but I'm not about to press you beyond what's reasonable, either. So, I'll leave this with you." He placed his thong on her bedside table, then helped her into bed. "When you're ready to make amends for the mistakes you made, and clear the slate between us, bring the shoe to me and we'll decide where to go from there—together. In the meantime, I need you to get well, and that's all I want from you. Understand?"