by Bree Cariad
It was with a sense of horror, as well as the realization that if her mother insisted, that she just might follow as her mother had a hold Celie had never been able to truly say no to that had Celie grabbing her cell phone and texting Marcus.
Help! Momma’s trying to make me leave Hyacinth!
“Celia! Suitcases? Oh, never mind. I’ll find them myself.” Kaycee had all of her clothes on the bed and was quickly removing them from the hangers. As Celie watched, her mother looked under the bed and in the closet before dashing back out of the room.
Celia loved her mother and having been raised to obey her probably would, but she didn’t want to leave Hyacinth and she really didn’t want to leave Marcus or Vanna. For the first time in memory, she was building a life. She had friends, a boyfriend, and a beautiful little girl who adored her. There was permanence here, something she hadn’t felt since she was a child. And she didn’t want to lose it. Ever since her mother took her away, she had lived the life of a gypsy. She hated that life.
“Momma,” she said as her mother came back into the room with her suitcases. “I don’t want to go.”
“Celie, I know better. This town…these people have brainwashed you. You don’t know what you’re sayin’. We’ll get you out of here into the real world and you’ll forget all about it.”
“But…I can’t leave Marcus and Vanna.”
“Who are they?” Kaycee snapped, briskly folding her clothes and putting them inside the cases.
“Marcus is the man who’s courting me. Vanna’s his four-year-old daughter.”
Freezing in her motions, it took a few seconds but finally Kaycee turned and looked at her. “They even gave you to a previously married man with baggage?”
“Vanna’s not baggage!” Celie yelled, furious at the description. “She’s the sweetest little girl on the planet, Momma, and Marcus is the most amazing man. If you’d stay and get to know him…”
“No. We aren’t staying one more minute. I’m getting you out of here before they can get you to believe that being spanked is a good thing.”
Heat lit up her face and Celia fidgeted. “The other girls say it is.”
Letting out a sound that reminded Celia of a hyena, Kaycee slammed one of the suitcases down on the ground and started on the next. “Don’t you remember being spanked, Celie? How much you hated it?”
“I remember feeling safe with Daddy.”
“You cried and cried and cried,” Kaycee said, her voice breaking. “I’m not leaving my baby to that. You can’t ask me to.”
“Actually Kaycee,” Leyton said, surprising them both with his quiet firm tone. “Celia cried during the spanking as one would expect, but not afterward. As a child, she understood and accepted her father’s love and care. You were the one who hated it.”
Turning to the door, Celie stared at her grandfather, hoping he could help. When she spotted the man at his side, she ran forward, grabbing onto the warm arms that wrapped around her. “She wants to take me away, Marcus,” she blubbered. “I don’t want to go.”
“You don’t have to go anywhere,” he said firmly. “You’re eighteen, Celie. She can’t make you do anything.”
“Yes, she can,” she said sadly. “If she insists, I—” She didn’t know how to explain everything her mother had done for her and how she just could not walk away from her. Celie would have to choose between Kaycee and Marcus and that thought was heart-wrenching. In that moment, Celie realized she loved the man who currently held her.
“Why don’t we all go down into the living room?” Pappa suggested calmly. “We can talk things out there.”
“No,” Kaycee said, digging her heels in. “I’m getting my little girl out of here now.”
“She doesn’t wish to go. And as the man of this house, I won’t let her go.” His voice changed, hiked up a notch, as though taking on a mantel Celia never remembered hearing from him before. “Kaycee, you stole her from us over ten years ago after Reg died. And kept moving so often we lost ten years with our granddaughter. Having her back has been a godsend. If she wants to go, we will hug her and wish her well. But if she wants to stay? You will not take her again.”
The tension in the room made her hug Marcus even tighter. There was no doubt her grandfather had just thrown down the gauntlet. Would her mother pick it up?
“Fine. We’ll talk. But then I’m taking Celia with me to Seattle.”
Marcus guided Celia back down the stairs into the living room and over to the small sofa. As soon as they sat down, she curled up at his side.
“I’m assuming you’re Marcus,” Kaycee said before she even took a seat in one of the tall armchairs.
“I am. My name is Marcus Hotham. I’m a vet here in town.”
“And you have a little girl,” she said in an accusatory voice.
“I do. Cavanaugh is four, almost five years old. My wife died four years ago due to a heart defect.” Holding Celia a little tighter he continued to speak in a calm, clear, and firm voice. “I adore your daughter, Mrs. Compton. While I never expected to find love again, I’m happy to say I have and even happier to say she is the best mother I could ask for my little girl. Mrs. Compton, I’m a quiet, reserved gentleman, but I don’t allow anyone to harm someone I love. You have hurt Celia and I don’t accept that. I would like to see if we can work this out so that this wonderful woman at my side doesn’t feel like she has to choose between you and me.”
Celia’s mother stared at him, her expression unchanged. “I don’t believe in the way things are done here, Mr. Hotham,” she said firmly. “At all. Have you hit my daughter?”
“Momma!” Celia said, horrified.
Marcus’s hand on her arm squeezed to let her know he was okay. “Mrs. Compton, I have never hit a woman. Ever. But I have the feeling considering what was said upstairs that you are referring to spanking.”
“Same thing,” she spat.
“I beg to differ. The connotation behind the word hit suggests that I would lay a hand on her for no reason and that she would never get a say in it. It suggests that I would abuse and harm the woman at my side. I would never do that,” he said, his voice intensifying. “I protect and love that which is my own, Mrs. Compton. And sometimes, that includes a spanking. Not hitting,” he reiterated. “A disciplinary action to remove the stain of something that has gone wrong. That could be anything from a broken rule to her feeling badly about something and unable to let it go. A positive spanking is a good thing. Not a bad one. It will help Celia feel better about herself. There will be no long-term guilt associated with anything she or I do. Ever. As the man of the family, it falls to me to make sure my girls are happy. And I take that very seriously.”
Celia looked up at him and didn’t think it was possible to love anyone more than she did in that moment. His eyes burned strong with his feelings and she knew he meant every word he said.
“I don’t believe in spanking,” Kaycee said, though her voice had lost some of its rudeness. “I didn’t believe in it when Reg tried it on me, I hated it when he spanked Celie, and I don’t want you to spank her ever.”
“You have the right to feel that way. Spanking isn’t for everyone,” he said, his voice softening, but his eyes keeping that firm passion. “But for you to force Celia out of this house and away from me because of your feelings on the matter is actually just as bad as if someone forced a spanking on someone.”
“It is not!”
“Yes, Mrs. Compton. It is. Loving discipline is a two-way street, a mutual contract of request and obedience. If I asked Celia to bend over my lap for a spanking, I would expect her to acquiesce. Not out of fear or because she had to, but because that is our mutual agreement. Because she recognizes that this is a part of who we are and that it makes us a better couple. If she refused, I would not spank her. Because then it’s no longer mutually agreed upon. It would be me forcing my will upon her.
“By forcing Celie to turn her back on us and her life here, you’re doing the same. You have
raised an amazing woman. But she loves you and I understand will go with you if you insist upon it. I’m asking you to think first before you do so. If a man hit a woman without her okay, it would be called abuse and would rip apart their relationship. If you remove Celie from Hyacinth, you will begin a destruction of the relationship you two share. Don’t give up what you two have due to your own fears.”
Nobody spoke for a moment and he kissed Celie on the forehead, pulling her close.
With a moan, Kaycee, put her face into her hands. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Stay for a few days,” Marcus encouraged. “Get to know me. Watch your daughter with Vanna. Observe us before you make a judgment. That’s all I ask.”
Sitting up again, though not as ramrod straight as she had been, Celia’s mother nodded. “All right. I’ll stay through Friday. But if I feel at any time that Celie has been brain-washed, we’ll be out of here.”
“I understand and appreciate your willingness and honesty, Mrs. Compton,” Marcus said quietly. “And I will be just as honest in return. If you take her from Hyacinth, that will not be the last you’ve seen of me. I don’t let go of those I love and will come to visit her.”
A wry smile crossed Kaycee’s face. “I can accept that. And it’s Mrs. Korun now, though I guess you might as well call me Kaycee.”
It was a rocky start, but over the next three days, her mother watched her and Marcus with the force of an eagle, noting everything. Every evening, she sat and talked with her, trying to find out what was it about the discipline lifestyle that attracted her daughter. By the time Friday came, Kaycee didn’t seem any closer to an answer, though she was honest.
“I can tell you haven’t been brain-washed,” she admitted quietly as they sat in the living room. “I wanted to find evidence of it, but the fact is you’re the girl I raised. Just promise me something?”
“What?” Celia asked quietly.
“That you will sincerely investigate this whole discipline/spanking thing before you go much further? I doubt you remember what it feels like. It’s not fun, Celie, and your grandfather’s right. I hated it. I can tell how much you care for Marcus and his little girl, but don’t let that sway you. When it comes down to it? Being spanked is serious. Don’t lose sight of that.”
“Thanks, Momma. I won’t.” Celie was relieved. Her mother was no longer bent on getting her out of Hyacinth.
“I will admit, though,” Kaycee said, a twinkle in her eyes, “Vanna does adore you. I’ve never seen a little girl so enamored of someone who wasn’t her own mother. However, if you decide this thing with Marcus won’t work, don’t forget there’s a little girl at stake here.”
“I know.” And Celia did. But up until that moment, she hadn’t really understood Kathy’s suggestion about getting spanked quickly. She did need to know if she could handle it and before Vanna loved her so much it would tear the little girl’s heart out if they had to call it quits.
The two of them cried and hugged before Kaycee left and Celie waved until her mother’s rental car was no longer in sight. As she stepped back into the warm house, Jude hugged her. “How are you doing?”
“Okay. It’s been an emotional few days.”
“Why don’t you go upstairs and get some sleep? I can fix dinner tonight.”
“Thanks, Nana, but I think I’m going over to Marcus’s house. I need to talk to him about something.”
“All right, honey. Call me if you need anything.”
The drive to his house didn’t take long. In fact, it happened too fast for her. Her mouth was dry and her heart beat fast as she pulled up in front of his place and got out of her car. Before she was even up to the door, it flew open and Vanna ran out to her. “Celie!”
“Hey, squirt,” she said, grinning when the little girl giggled. “Oh!” Little Miss took that moment to dart out the door. Thankfully they didn’t have to go find her as the moment her little paws hit the snow, she barked, turned around, and ran back inside.
“Love,” Marcus said warmly, walking up and hugging her after she came inside. “This is a very pleasant surprise. Did your mom get off all right?”
“Yep.” Celia clung to his arms, not letting him go when he tried to pull away. “I need to talk to you,” she whispered.
“Okay, those words are never good,” he said wryly making her grin.
“It’s not bad, per se,” she said. “I just…I need something from you. Something private.”
Vanna was watching the two of them, her eyes solemn.
“Pumpkin,” Marcus said, turning toward her. “Take Little Miss up to your room and don’t come out until I say.”
“Yes, Daddy.” She picked up the puppy and walked toward the stairs. Looking over her shoulder, she gave a cautious smile at Celie, who smiled back, before she climbed out of sight. Once they heard her door shut, he led her over to their small sofa.
‘What is it?” he asked gently, his hand lightly stroking her hair.
“I need…I want…” She groaned and shook her head, knowing she wasn’t getting this right. “I love you and your daughter. So much. Marcus, we may have gone too far to turn back, but before our fifth stage hits us, I need to know what a spanking would feel like. A real one.” She peeked up, glad to see warmth rather than amusement in his eyes.
“Of course,” he said, squeezing her hand. “That makes sense to me. Come.”
“Now?” she squeaked in surprise as he pulled her off the sofa and into a small room she had assumed was a closet. It might have been at one point. But now it looked like a small study with a desk, two chairs, a bookcase, and several reading lamps. He closed the door behind them and walked her over to a chair seated in a corner that was leather and cushioned.
"I think it's smart for you to want to know what this feels like. An actual disciplinary spanking will be different," he explained as he directed her over to his right side and guided her over his lap. "For then, you will carry guilt, anger, and a whole load of emotions that the spanking will help you get rid of. I’m not what I would call a heavy hitter. I believe in discipline, but I also don’t believe you have to feel it the next day for it to work.” After a pause, he went on. “I never had the inclination to spank hard, but living with a wife who had major heart problems proved to me that discipline is mostly mental. And light spanking, done over a long period of time can actually have a very positive effect. You never have to worry about me harming you. Now, Celie, do you promise to allow me to know when you are done?"
Oh, dear lord. What had she gotten herself into? “Uh, yes.” Grasping the leg of the chair, she felt silly, lying over his lap. His legs were tall enough her toes barely touched the carpet and if she had her hands down, they would barely brush the floor as well. It was a precarious position to be in. Gulping as she remembered her father doing the same thing, she waited.
The first fall of his hand actually wasn’t bad. From everything she had read, she expected a flash of heat or at least pain, but it felt like nothing more than a sharp tap. Another tap came. And another. With each one, his hand fell a little harder and to her surprise, his light taps built up a strange heat that kind of surprised her so when his hand came down hard, she now understood what all those articles mentioned.
“Ow!” she cried out as his hand came down again. This hurt. It really hurt. His hand thudded down on her backside over and over, the heat now throbbing along her buttocks and up and down her thighs. Each blow rocked her body forward, but with his one hand holding her lower back steady, she was pretty much kept in place.
Her tears started at some point, though she had no idea when. Thoughts of her mother, her father, her grandparents went through her head, as did images of her new friends. Something from her childhood seemed to break free, a memory she had never consciously remembered. Of her father and mother discussing spanking.
“I don’t want you to spank her, Reg.”
“Honey, it’s for her own good. And Celie understands that.”
“I
don’t care! I hate it. Please, Reg. Please, don’t do it.”
Realizing her father had never spanked her after that was a surprise and Celia started to sob. Because looking back, that was the moment her parents began to be more distant with one another. It was a year or so before he was killed, and they had even taken different rooms. Her mother’s fear of spanking and of discipline in general seemed to have doomed their marriage.
Crying against Marcus’s pants’ leg, it took a few minutes before she realized he was no longer spanking her. Instead, his hands were lightly rubbing her lower back. As her cries turned to weeping, which in turn turned to sniffling, he lifted her up and onto his lap, cradling her close.
“What was that?” he whispered into her ear, somehow understanding she had just been through something.
“Memory. Of my parents bickering about spanking.” Sitting in Marcus’s arms, Celie didn’t understand why her mother was so against them. Yes, they hurt. Her smarting backside was a testament to that. But just like the girls said. She felt better. Much better. Surely that was worth a scorching backside from time to time.
“That had to be hard.”
“I didn’t realize…actually I didn’t even remember that a year before Dad died, they moved into different rooms. I bet if he hadn’t died, they would have ended up divorced.” The words were difficult to say, especially as she must have repressed the memory at some point, but it was as though she had already spent the emotion for them, so they felt like they belonged to someone else.
His arms tightened and he pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I’m amazed you would be interested in spanking at all,” he said quietly, “with a mother so opposed to it.”
“I researched it,” she admitted, “before agreeing to the whole courting thing. Everything I read from the DD people just increased my interest. I want a relationship that gets closer together instead of further apart, Marcus. I want what Stephanie and Christopher have, what Cami and Jerod have, what every couple in this town has. And I want it with you,” she added softly. “You and Vanna.”