by Lee Benoit
The spanking resumes and I start to count the pulses as my ass throbs between blows. I know there are unholy noises coming from my mouth and tears on my face. I try to rub them off on the arm of the sofa before Chief can see, but he catches me.
"Endi," is all he says as he uses his hot, huge spanking hand to wipe my face.
The next slap, his hand wet with my tears, stings like you would not believe. Something breaks loose in me right then, and I lose count of the throbs in my butt. Each blow is a wave, and I'm the bottom of the ocean. I know tears are still flowing, and my ass is rocking, and I hear each blow and sob and Chief's low, low rumbles. They all change me, like that ocean floor changes with every tide. After the briefest eternity or an endless blink of an eye, Chief's voice penetrates the waves to make me notice that the spanking has stopped. I'm damp all over, with sweat, tears, and come, and I start to shiver. They're not exclusively physiological shivers. They're no kind of "logical" at all.
"Endi." It seems like the only word I've heard for hours. Chief's rubbing my ass, spreading the cheeks with two fingers, brushing a rough thumb over my hole, squeezing the hot, sore flesh. His other hand is rubbing my back. But the only real thing in that moment is his voice, calling my name, calling me back.
Chapter 2. The Knight Errant
When Chief moved in, he brought the Red Phone with him. It's an old rotary job with a red Bakelite case, weighs half a ton, and rings at thunderclap decibels. It's been the emergency phone for Endicott's Fire Chief since Grampy's days on the job. Usually I think it's the coolest thing ever, even cooler than the Mayor of Gotham's bat signal.
When the Red Phone shrieks me out of a deep, afterglowy, well-spanked sleep, I glare at it and take away cool points. Then I focus on what Chief is grumbling into the mouthpiece.
"He's right here."
It's for me? I take the receiver from Chief.
This can't be good.
It isn't.
I hang up and say, "Sounder's missing."
Chief nods like he already knows. I'm halfway dressed when Chief's hand lands on my shoulder.
"It's the middle of the night, Endi. Nothing you can do 'til morning. Come back to bed."
His voice, his warm hand, and silvery, furry Chief chest all conspire to make a very good argument. But...
"The fellas wouldn't have called if this wasn't suspicious. Sounder wouldn't just go walkabout."
I don't have to remind Chief that Sounder's no ordinary dog.
The warm hand drops away. "I'll go with you, then."
I know I shouldn't, but I bristle. "I can handle it," I say stiffly.
"You will handle it, once I've taught you some investigative skills, some forensics. For tonight, think of it as a training mission."
This once, I think to myself, Chief knows just what to say to gentle my skittish ego. I nod and we finish dressing fast. I whistle up Lomi and the three of us head out in Chief's red pickup.
The old guys who hang at Burgess General Store meet us on the porch. I know Sam Traynor lives above the store, but I honestly don't know where the other three -- Ernie and them-- come from. I didn't think they drove after dark. Maybe they were having a sleepover.
Lomi sniffs all around and comes up empty while Chief asks Sam and the fellas questions, and I try to look competent. I whisper a command into Lomi's ear and she transforms beautifully, her wings snapping out just so before fluttering up at my command to survey the immediate area.
"We didn't hear nothin', Chief," Sam says. "Ol' Sounder, he didn't bark or howl. He wouldn't'a just run off, you know that."
The guys are so bewildered at the loss of their dog, I feel all tight and helpless inside and want to hug Lomi more than anything. But that would be unprofessional, right? It's like she knows how I'm feeling though, 'cause she chooses just that moment to land beside me and rub her scales against my leg, so I just murmur, "Good girl," under my breath and try to learn something from Chief. He's really reassuring without promising to find Sounder no matter what, which is what I would have done.
Then he says, "You fellas know Endi here is gonna pull out all the stops. If anyone can find old Sounder, our Endi can."
The old guys nod solemnly, and I about burst with pride.
Until we're back in the truck on our way to the fire house. I dig my fingers into Lomi's fur -- she's getting so quick at her changes -- and hold on tight. "What if I can't find him, Chief?"
"Boy," Chief says, and somehow that word in that voice reminds my ass to tingle where he spanked me. "I meant what I said to Sam and them. If it can be done, you'll find their dog."
We pull up to the fire house. "Let's make a plan," I say with way more confidence than I feel.
***
I thought I'd be all dopey after my spanking, or more precisely after Chief's very attentive aftercare, but as it happens I don't have time to dwell on my fundament. The second we park at the fire house and say "hey" to the eleven-to-seven guys, Chief sets me up in the common room with a big map of Endicott and instructions to devise a search plan.
By the time the sun's up, I've mobilized a crew of off-duty EMTs and firefighters plus the kids from my outreach program who are pretty psyched to get their hands dirty after days in the classroom learning how to train helper dragon dogs for the old and infirm of our town.
I pair one pro and one newbie until everyone has a search partner, then take Lomi -- who is all the partner I need today -- and head west on East Street, which is the main road out of town on the inland side. I figure there has to be someone who saw a flying bloodhound.
There isn't.
What there is, is an unwelcome interruption in the form of the big-city reporter.
"David tells me you're having some trouble keeping your charges within the town line, Mr. Thorne."
Oily creep. And how would David know what's up with Sounder? I want to rub my forehead, but I imagine Manton would read that as capitulation. I really need to have a conversation with David. I'm so confused.
"The situation is under control, Mr. Manton. I don't have any comments for the press at this time." The one PR drill Chief ran with me last night, and I'm already putting it to use.
"Please, call me Perry," he says, showing no sign of bugging off.
I do not invite him to call me Endi. Lomi sends up a polite curl of smoke as a warning.
"Neat trick, Endi," Manton says, nodding his expensive haircut in my dog's direction. I can tell he's trying to be all folksy with the rube, but even in Friday casuals, he looks like he belongs in a high-rise office somewhere. With a stick up his bum. And not in the fun way.
"You're welcome to call the Mayor's office for a statement later today," I say, hoping good old- fashioned small-town manners will give him a hint.
As if.
I make a turn onto Tulip Street, hoping Manton will get bored, but he's stuck to me like a burr.
"Endi! Yoo-hoo! Endi Thorne!"
I trot across the street to find Mrs. Paul on her stoop, wringing her hands. "Oh, Endi, I'm so glad you're here. They're gone, both of them."
"Patch and Trouble?" This can't be happening. It's bad enough we have one dragon dog missing, what with the damage he could do and the misunderstandings he could cause. But three?
I glare at Manton, wishing I could deploy Lomi to keep him from hearing what Mrs. P has to say, but even if I did let Lomi go airborne on his sorry urban ass, you'd have to be at least a county over to get away from that shrill voice. She's a nice lady, was a friend of Grammy's, but good grief her voice could peel paint.
I get all the details and decide to head back to the fire house to get the word out to everybody. I tell Mrs. Paul we're doing everything we can, and turn to find Lomi fluttering two inches off the sidewalk, snarling at Manton, who in turn is snarling into a very slim, pretentious cell phone.
Something about "camera crew."
"No press!" I holler and pull out my own phone to call Chief. We don't have enough radios to go around, so the firefighter
s and EMTs have them for today.
"I'd best go fill David in on everything that's happening," Manton says, slick as you please.
The thought of my friend also being his friend makes me a little queasy. Could Chief be right about David's trustworthiness? I really could use David's help right now, but all of a sudden I'm uncertain about asking for it.
In that moment, with Mrs. Paul closing her door and Manton striding away, even with Lomi coasting at my shoulder, I feel very alone.
***
That alone feeling? It doesn't go away when we reach the fire house. Inexplicably there's a million people milling around, including Manton, who's toe to toe with Chief. How the heck did he get here before Lomi and me? I really, really need a word alone with Chief. Then I tune in to what Manton's saying.
"...as your Dragon Wrangler was telling me earlier this morning. Care to comment, Chief Burgess?"
What the...? Chief can't think...I didn't tell Manton anything!
Chief's eyes go narrow as he looks over at me. I hope he's not thinking I would get into another situation with this reporter, but just for good measure I shake my head minutely.
He sees me, thank the gods, and tips me the teensiest nod. We're okay.
"The Mayor's office and this department have no comment at this time, Mr. Manton," Chief says and he turns on his polished boot heel and walks away. "Emergency responders, my office," he barks.
As I cross the room to join them, folks press me from all sides, telling me their dogs have gone missing just like Sounder. Seems the only dogs left in Endicott -- besides terriers, who have no dragon nature -- are Lomi and the firehouse mutts. This day is going from bad to worse, which is a terrible let-down after the night Chief and I had.
Manton tries to follow us into the meeting but I let Lomi block him. To my horror, Chief stops me with a hand to my chest. "Endi, I need you on crowd control. People are scared. They need to hear from you."
I bridle, feeling like he's shutting me out with the outreach kids. My feeling must show on my face 'cause he gives me that "only me" look from last night and says, loud enough for everyone to hear, that I'm the emergency responder in charge of the fire house scene and I'll be taking reports while the other pros devise a search plan.
Mollified, I nod. Feeling like a fish at a bicycle race, I move among the people, writing down who's missing and when they were last seen. Little Anton Burgess -- everyone calls him Bug; he's the youngest of my outreach kids -- attaches himself to my side and runs around organizing coffee for everyone. One thing there's always plenty of in a fire house, is coffee. Bug's a smart one, though and he slips away for a few minutes before coming back and telling me he called Bennie over at Zorro's to deliver some snacks, too. Never enough snacks in a fire house, what with all those strapping fellas scoffing them.
I dodge Manton successfully, 'cause at some point the jerk disappears. I concentrate on my job, reassure everyone as best I can that we'll get to the bottom of the dognappings, and wonder what I'm missing in the big strategy meeting. I must do okay reassuring everyone, 'cause after a good long while people start filtering back onto the streets, each one armed with the fire house emergency number in case anyone sees anything. Looks like I pulled it off.
Everything's quiet. I look around for Lomi, who I'm sure needs a treat just as badly as I do by then. Bennie's twig and berry muffins don't count. Part of me wants to get into the meeting, but I decide a short break won't hurt anything. Public relations is tiring! I figure Lomi must be out back with the fire house pups, so I head out there with a fistful of rawhide twists, whistling and calling, "Lomi, Gruff, Bondo..." I step blinking into the big run, waving the treats, look around, panic, and tear back inside. I don't care if I'm invited to the big-kid meeting or not. I throw open the door and face all the town heavies. Chief holds up his hand for silence while I stand there panting like I just ran up Mount Acushnet and fell down the other side.
"They're gone!" I feel like I'm yelling, but barely a sound comes out. I try again. "All the dogs.
They've disappeared."
Chief in a towering rage is a scary, scary thing. I mean, I've seen him annoyed plenty of times, usually when I do something stupid or he thinks I'm selling myself short, like back in my dog- walking days when I used to give blow jobs to any dog owner with a penis. I've even seen him righteously angry, like when he insisted to Grammy that going away to the community college in Spencer was the right thing for me to do when all she wanted was for me to stay in Endicott and take over her bakery. He was furious when I set loose all the dragon dogs that first time and then got myself committed to the psych ward. But I've never seen him like this. There's even a moment when I just know he blames me. And that's the moment that sends me into a panic.
It's the only way I can explain what happens next.
He orders every emergency worker in town to fan out, search everywhere, and block the roads out of town. He even sends a crew to secure the little harbor. Then he looks at me like he has no idea what to do with me, like I'm a liability, and that's the moment I pick to suggest we consult David. David's the only person I can think of who might be able to fix this. He knows more about dragon dogs than anyone, even me, and I know he can help. Whatever's happening here has everything to do with dragon dogs and nothing to do with old fashioned public safety. Chief may know how to map out a search grid, but he doesn't know as much as David about dragon dogs and what they're capable of. Not to mention that none of us knows why the dogs have dragon natures in the first place, or why they're here in Endicott and nowhere else. I tell Chief all this, even though I can see the vein in his forehead throb harder with each sentence, and then I say what's really on my mind. I remind him that he's the one who thought David knew more than he was telling us, and that his friendship with Manton was fishy.
But when I say so, it's like I've betrayed Chief and Endicott and us. I see it the moment the words are out of my mouth.
"Go on, then, Endi," he says, sounding really disappointed and resigned. "Go to your hero, but don't expect me to swoop in to rescue you again. I've got a crisis to deal with."
I haven't made my point, I've driven a wedge. I slink away like a bad puppy, knowing in my heart that I have a crisis to deal with, too, and it has nothing to do with dragon dogs disappearing.
***
I don't have a car, and I don't have time to run home to hijack Chief's Scrambler (like I need another nail in my coffin, Chief-wise) so I run all the way to David's place.
It's been almost an hour since I realized Lomi was gone, but that flat-out sprint is when I feel it, you know? Her absence, hollow and dark and heavy where she should be flying right along with me.
Chapter 3. The Inverted Queen
I'm sweating bullets and nearly in tears by the time I stumble up the four steps to David's little place on Maple.
"David!" I call out, but I'm so parched and panting it's only a croak. His door's always open anyway, so I run in, unzipping my coveralls and tying the sleeves around my waist to cool off.
Unprofessional, I know, but David won't see. David's Golden Retriever Drake looks up from his sunny spot near the back door and gives me a doggy grin of welcome before going back to chasing flying rabbits.
He should have heard me by now, though. His bedroom door's closed, which is weird in the middle of the day. As I approach, I start to worry that he's sick or something when I hear voices and stop in my tracks.
"Perry, yeah, oh!"
"Take it, Dave, take it all!"
It's like a porno, and I'd be lying if I said I stopped my ears. David and Manton? It's kind of gross, but I listen as they grunt and shout and obviously both come really hard. If Manton and David are lovers -- ew -- it answers a lot of Chief's questions.
My knuckles are poised to knock -- I have a crisis to address, after all -- when I hear them start up with some unexpected pillow talk. Chief and I don't chat after sex, mostly because Chief's not a big talker, but also because I'm usually so fucked out
I can't form two words, much less string them together.
Sex with big city reporters must not be that mind-blowing, though, 'cause David and Perry are chattering away like they're having tea instead of orgasms.
"Do you know how long it is since I bottomed?"
"Well, you can't have been getting any since your accident, and this village doesn't exactly have a huge gay community. Though I must say that fire chief of theirs is a nice surprise."
I'm fuming -- how dare he be so mean to David, and how dare he say anything about Chief? I press my ear harder to the door.
"That's not what I mean, Perry, and you know it. I'm not a natural bottom."
Just like Chief said.
"Aw, come on, Dave, it's time you gave up all your big bad top delusions."
Outside the door, I think to myself, why? Because he's blind? This Manton is a jerk and a fool if he doesn't know topping is a state of mind and not some physical contest. I listen harder.
"Look, David, you took one for the Institute. No one meant for your accident to happen. You're here in Endicott to oversee the dragon situation, so you didn't lose everything."
"Just my sight and my career and any hope of a fulfilling love life?"
David sounds mad. Good for him.
"You can't tell me what we just did wasn't fulfilling. I think I filled you up pretty well, Davey."
I swallow a snicker. Nice pun, pencil-dick. There's a pause.
"I don't think this -- us -- is a good idea, Perry."
"No regrets, Dave."
I shake my head and will David to say something like, "none but you, dingleberry," but instead he sounds contemplative.
"I know this was the plan all along, Perry, but you don't know these people. They really love the dogs. They're making it work."