“It makes us happy and helps our marriages stay whole. There are no divorces here that I know of, and the only people who move are the kids who leave home. It’s a beautiful town, with wonderful people, and a way of life that helps keep things simple,” Francine stated, accepting the cup of warm tea that Rolland handed her.
“You are insane—”
“Brooke!” Collin barked.
Francine held up her hand, stopping Collin from further scolding. “That’s okay. I felt the same when I heard about this place for the first time. I was an English professor at Yale.”
“What?” Brooke was genuinely shocked.
Francine nodded. “We both were. Came here to retire. It saddened me when somewhere along the line things like simple étiquette and manners began to disappear from modern society. False belief systems developed that communicated degradation for a woman if she was treated like a lady. For example, some people believed that if a man held a door open for a woman, then he was insulting the woman’s ability to open it herself.”
“We are very capable of opening our own doors and sitting in chairs without help.”
“You are going to have problems sitting in general if you keep that tone up, missy,” Rolland grinned, noting the angry furrow deepening in Collin’s brow.
Francine laughed. “Easy on the child. This is a new revelation. Collin, honey? Do you practice gentlemanly acts?”
“Absolutely. Nor have I given into her protest.”
“Good boy. Your mama raised you right.”
“Both my parents were very old-fashioned and insisted on exercising manners,” Collin nodded.
“How does that make you feel when your husband takes care of you, Brooke?”
“Very uncomfortable. I really am not in the mood to hear more lectures about how fucked up I am—”
“She is correct,” Collin growled. “The time for listening is over. It is now time for action. If you both would please excuse us, I have some business to take care of at home.”
“Aw, Collin, please…” Brooke began, her stomach rising to her throat. “I’m sorry I swore, but—”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it,” Francine came to Brooke’s defense. “She is in a new situation, and—”
“Francine, this is none of your business. Let the man take care of his wife as he feels is best. He loves her,” Rolland interrupted. “Don’t be such a mother hen.”
Collin thanked the couple, gritting his teeth as he led Brooke out the door and started towards the car. She froze in place, unwilling to move. He paused to look at her.
“Are you coming?”
“I don’t think so. I am very content staying right where I am,” Brooke announced, startled as a sudden large clap of thunder boomed overhead.
“Okay, allow me to rephrase. Get into the car. We are going home.”
“It is your home, not mine. I think—”
“It is our home for the time being. I honestly don’t recall asking for your opinion about this, baby. In the car. Now.”
“I don’t like you like this,” Brooke grumbled, rushing into the passenger seat as the rain began to plummet in thick, heavy sheets.
“I don’t like having to be like this, either. But you painted me into a corner. Put your seatbelt on.”
Brooke complied, chewing on her lower lip. He was definitely unhappy with her, and she was definitely in more trouble than she knew how to escape from.
“You knew about the mindset in this town, didn’t you?” she asked in an accusatory tone.
“Of course I did. That was one reason I bought the house here in the first place. I was going to set up a practice…”
“You miss doing that, don’t you? Psychoanalyzing people,” she interrupted him, trying to redirect the subject from the target of his desire. Her rear end.
“No. I miss helping people. People who want to be helped, that is.”
“Not everybody needs professional help. Or desires it.”
“True. The problem is, though, that the ones who need it the most are the most resistant to getting it. They fool themselves into believing they are capable of handling their issues on their own, because they are too prideful and afraid to admit their weaknesses and be accountable for change.”
“You cannot assume that strong willed people are incapable of working through problems without help from the Almighty Doctor whatever-your-name-was.”
“Know what I think, Brooke?” Collin remarked patiently. “I think you are terrified to allow me to help you. I think you believe that once the door is opened to reveal all the real pain you are holding inside, that you won’t know what to do with yourself. I think that you have somehow convinced yourself that you deserve to be miserable and that if that feeling is taken from you, that you will not know how to feel.” He pulled to the side of the road and parked the car.
“Why are you stopping?” Brooke demanded, her fingers digging into the upholstery as tremulous echoes of the rolling thunder vibrated the vehicle.
“Why are you afraid of the storm, Brooke?” Collin asked softly, turning to her as her eyes widened in fright as a streak of white lightening slashed across the dark sky, followed by the reverberating clap of thunder.
“I’m not,” she retorted, unable to disguise the trembling in her hands. She quickly sat on them and looked out to stare at the rain that cascaded over the windshield, blinding her from the outside world. She jumped as another roar shook the car.
“It’s the noise, isn’t it? Come to me. I am not going to allow anything to harm you,” Collin unbuckled his seatbelt and slid closer, holding his arm out for her. Brooke hesitated, before drawing herself closer. “Sweetheart, you are shaking like a leaf! Talk to me.”
The thunder boomed again, and the blood drained from Brooke’s face. Collin held her tightly, stroking her cheeks and cooing into her ear as she burst into terrified sobs.
“It… Sounds… Like… Like metal drums,” she blustered into his shirt. “All around the room. Big, empty metal drums.”
“Like in a warehouse?”
Brooke could only nod, each rumble sending her burrowing deeper into his arms. Collin gripped her tightly, rocking her and whispering reassurances that she was safe. He lifted his cell phone to his ear, not releasing her as he dialed and placed the call on speakerphone.
“Frank… Listen… Start looking for a warehouse. Somewhere that uses metal drums for storage and also is surrounded by flowering plants. Something that gives off a sickening sweet aroma.”
“A juice processing plant, maybe?” Frank abruptly interrupted.
“Hmm…That would explained the scent she described. You might be right. The odor of boiling peels is similar to old gardenias. Let me know what you come up with.”
“How about if I get some photos of the structures too? Would that help her identify the location?”
“Yeah, email them to me. Shhh.” He turned to Brooke as she began to shake violently. “It will be okay, baby. Frank, I gotta go.”
“Sounds like one hell of a storm going on. I haven’t heard thunder like that since I lived upstate New York,” Frank commented dryly. “Where exactly are you hiding out with such a pretty lady?”
“Nice try, buddy,” Collin laughed. “You are not getting your grubby hands on this one. She is mine.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Frank snorted, “I will keep you updated if I find anything. Bye.”
“Collin?” Brooke whimpered, her face tucked under his chin. “I don’t like him. He sounds creepy.”
“Interesting that you should say that by just listening in on one call. The fact is that not many people like the old bastard. He is a tool and an arrogant SOB, but he is good at his job. If anyone can help us locate the scene, he will. Let’s get you home.”
Chapter Six
After rushing Brooke into the house, removing her wet shoes and socks, and sitting her on the cushions before the fireplace, Collin emptied the car of their purchases while contemplating the
day’s activities. He ventured into the living room and settled himself upon the brick hearth, feet flat on the floor, knees slightly spread apart, with his large hands entwined between them as he studied her. He saw Brooke chew on her bottom lip as she noticed the new paddle by his side and the hair brush that he had tucked under his belt.
“I know the storm triggered a memory for you. However, that has nothing to do with you breaking into my computer against my wishes, or your terrible behavior in town. You have left me with no option except to follow through on my promise to take care of you, which, in this circumstance, means punishment.”
“You said it would wait until after dinner,” Brooke barked, her eyes widening in fear.
“Yes, I did. However, I think that you need a distraction from this storm. Stand up.”
“Nooooo…” Brooke whined, shaking her head.
Collin raised his eyebrow. “This is not a discussion, darling. You deserve this spanking, and I intend for you to remember it.”
“But the storm…” Brooke looked at the window frantically as a flash of lightening reflected through it.
“What is going on outside will not hurt you. I intend to reprogram you to hear it differently. Starting with the sound of your bare bottom being smacked. Now, stand up.”
Brooke shivered as she slowly obeyed, her eyes locked to his. She shivered as she accepted his outstretched hand and allowed him to lead her across his bent knees. She clutched his calves as he gently skimmed the jeans from her bottom, exposing her simple, white cotton hipster panties. He rested his hand across her lower cheeks.
“Why are we here, Brooke?”
He immediately noticed that in this position, her body did not jump as a clap of thunder rattled the windows. He began to knead her cheeks as he waited for her to answer.
“I, uh, trespassed on your privacy,” she stuttered, catching herself as she fell further forward.
“You certainly did. Hands flat on the floor,” he instructed, resting his palm flat against her once against. Tiny goose bumps rose on her pale flesh as his eye roamed the heart-shaped mound, free from any visible post-graft scars and stretch-marks. What a beautiful job of structuring a perfect bottom. It even came complete with the right amount of jiggle. He would have to thank Dr. Nguyen personally.
“I’m waiting. We both know there is more.” His voice was gravely as he tried to disguise his desire.
“I was horribly rude to people in town and antisocial.”
“You certainly were. I must say,” he shifted her towards him, placing his left arm around her waist and pulling her closer to his body as his right hand remained cradling her backside, “I was surprised to see that side of you. Would you care to explain your reasons for demonstrating that behavior?”
“I don’t know! Will you please stop messing around and just get this over with?”
“Oh, no. Lecturing is part of the punishment. Along with anticipating.”
“Did anyone ever tell you that you are a sadistic bastard?” Brooke growled, trying to twist so she could look at him.
Collin chuckled. “No. But I am creative, which makes me even more frightening.”
“I hate you.”
“I promise to order you a t-shirt with that on it tomorrow. Explain yourself.”
“I just don’t belong anywhere. I don’t want to make friends because I will only end up getting hurt. Can’t you understand that?”
“I understand that you are afraid, but—”
“Damn it, Collin! It is not fucking rocket science! I don’t want to fall in love with this place, these people, or you! Only to lose it all!” she spurted out.
Stillness filled the room, interrupted only by the sound of the thunderclaps, pounding rainfall, and the onset of muffled sobs as Brooke buried her face in his pant leg.
Collin sighed, rubbing her back. “My sweet, sweet girl,” he finally said aloud, “I can’t promise that your heart won’t be hurt again, but I can assure you that you have a home here as long as you desire. With me, too, if you want me.”
“I feel like a fugitive. I can’t ever be free if I have to live my life hiding who I am. Please, let me up,” Brooke begged.
“No. I want you to close your eyes and allow yourself to feel,” Collin stated, raising his hand and sending it plummeting against her soft flesh. She shrieked in unison with the deafening boom that caused the windows to rattle.
Her fervent squeals rose in volume and pitch as he rained blow after blow on the tender white curves of her curvaceous rear portions, speedily eliciting a rosy blush. Smack by smack, his palm greeted her reddening cheeks with enthusiasm as he held her firmly in place, reinforcing his intent to protect and correct. She began to kick her legs into the air and squirm in a useless attempt to escape.
Collin could not suppress a smile. “I have to say that this is turning out to be quite enjoyable for me. I like seeing you wiggle like a little worm. Let’s see how you respond to the paddle.”
“Noooooo! I’m soooooorrrrry!” Brooke yelped as he ran the back of the wide board over her sensitive, bright-pink globes. “I’ll be nice, I swear!”
“I am certain you will be after this,” Collin chuckled, his attention captured by her pouting, pink lips hidden between her thighs. The glistening wetness indicated that she was just as aroused as he was. He inhaled deeply, deciding to take a chance. “Would you be interested in a possible reward if you take the rest of this spanking well?”
Brooke’s movement froze, suspended in mid-wiggle. “Are you suggesting sex?”
“Only if you are interested.”
The crackling of the fire echoed through the room as Collin waited for her response.
“We… We hardly know each other,” Brooke’s voice was strained.
“We have been together every day for nearly four months. I have been part of your physical rehab and therapy sessions.” Collin scraped the bristles gently along the back of her thighs. “I have even paddled this stunning backside one other time before. And, I know your secret.”
“What secret?”
“That you are a virgin and really enjoy being spanked as much as I enjoy spanking you.”
“I would not say I enjoy it as much, but yeah… maybe. I mean, if you let me go now, I would—”
“Brat. Ten of the paddle. Ready?”
“Aw, Collin, do you have to?”
“Are you really asking me that question?”
“Please, let’s not… Owwww!”
“That’s one,” Collin said cheerfully. The board splattered against the crown of her left cheek, flattening the bulb as it impacted sharply. He watched in happy fascination as the area turned white and then slowly darkened to scarlet.
“Red! Red! Red!”
“What are you doing?” Collin asked, capturing her hand as she flung it behind her to protect her backend after the second stroke found her right sit spot.
“Calling a safeword! Isn’t that what you do when it hurts too much?”
“In a play situation, yes. This, though, is not play. At least, not in the conventional sense. Eight more left…”
“You are killing me! Oooowww!”
“I assure you, no one has ever died from a good, old-fashioned spanking.”
“Owie! Stop! My ass is going to fall off.”
“I doubt it, my little drama queen. I do believe that you are gaining the understanding that I mean business when I take you across my lap, though. Am I correct?”
“Yessssss,” Brooke hissed out as a fifth and sixth smack of the paddle jarred her hindquarters.
“What else are you learning?” he asked jovially, whacking her two more times and grinning as she bucked.
“That you really need to get out more! You are having too much fun at my expense. Ow!”
“That was not the response I was waiting for. Should I add another ten to the count? It might help improve your memory as to why you are bare bottomed over my knee right now.”
“Oh my God—oh my God—oh
my God! No! No more!” Brooke cried out as the final two strokes seared her bottom. “I’m begging you. No more, please! I will be the model of courtesy and manners. I promise!”
“Very well. You may get up.”
Collin smiled as Brooke slid to the floor, her jeans and panties now limply hanging off her left ankle. Her hair was in disarray and the scant makeup smeared. He lifted his hand to her face, cradling her right cheek gently as he made her look at him.
“Are you all right?” he asked gently, not allowing her to look away. She lowered her eyes and nodded slightly, her hands reaching to hold her burning posterior in a vain effort to rub out some sting. Slowly, so as not to frighten her, he took her face in both hands and tilted her lips to his.
A low purr escaped Brooke’s lips as she submitted to the embrace. She hesitated before wrapping her arms around his neck, oblivious to the puddle of clothing that had been abandoned on the floor, or that she was naked from the waist down.
“Yes, more than all right,” she whispered into his neck. “Collin, I want you to make love to me. Show me what I have been missing.”
“This breaks my rule about rewarding following punishment,” he murmured, his lips locked to hers.
“Some rules are made to be broken now and then,” Brooke murmured back.
Collin lifted her into his arms and anchored her legs around his waist before he carried her up the stairs. The air sparked with static electricity as he settled her upon the mattress, and the sound of rushing rain plummeting on the house filled the room. The lulling song was only hampered by an occasional clap of thunder and sheets of rain flinging against the large window panes by strong winds that bullied their way through the storm’s path.
Collin’s fingers hooked under Brooke’s sweater and slowly drew it over her head. His mouth found hers again as he reached behind to unhook her bra, leaving her naked before him.
“You really are beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely, running his hand slowly across her upper chest, fingertips brushing the soft swells of her breasts.
“This isn’t really me. It is a fake body and—”
“This,” he tapped the area over her heart, “is you. And you are beautiful. These accouterments are simply sprinkles on a sweet, tasty cupcake.”
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