Protect and Correct (14 page)

“It will not be funny for you tomorrow, dearest. Sit back.”

“I love you, Collin!”

“I know you do. I just wish you could say it when you were sober,” the man stated patiently, pulling the car out onto the dark, foggy road.

“Can’t. If I do, then it becomes real.”

“So?”

“Don’t you get it?” Brooke asked, trying to focus. “If it’s real then it can be taken away. I’m not ready to lose you yet.”

“You are not going to lose me. I promise. Close your eyes. I will wake you when we get home.”

Brooke clung to Collin’s neck as he carried her inside the house and up to their room. He pulled off her boots and tucked her in bed, tsking with disapproval over the dress she had chosen.

“I can’t believe you bought this. There are much better ways to show off your figure.”

“I wanted to be sexy for youuuuu,” Brooke said, covering his neck with kisses.

“You are very sexy for me. I don’t need you to dress like this to get my attention, baby.”

“But I got it anyway, huh?”

“That you did. Go to sleep.”

“I love you,” she whispered, again covering his face with kisses.

“I love you too. We are going to get through this. I promise.”

“Hold me, and don’t let go.”

Collin sighed, scooting next to her. Brooke purred, lodging the full curve of her bottom against his pelvis, rotating her hips to fit snugly against him.

“What’s that in my back?” she giggled.

“Your timing sucks, honey. Go to sleep.”

“You might be tired, but that isn’t,” Brooke snickered, pulling her dress up to her waist and pushing her backside against Collin’s rising cock.

“Brooke…” Collin said warningly. “Where are your panties?”

“Just slip it inside of me, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“That’s enough, Brooke. Sleep.”

“Aw, Collin…” Brooke said huskily. “You want it too. See? Just slide it on in…” she cooed, reaching between her thighs and capturing his rigid pole in her hand. She slung her leg over his thigh and maneuvered the bulbous cap into her wet, and very wanting, slit.

“Damn it, Brooke,” Collin grumbled as she began to hump her body against his, the spooning position giving him full access to her spread womanhood and swollen breasts. He lost the ability to resist her heat and began to stroke his cock slowly in and out of her from behind.

Brooke stopped her motion, reaching between her legs again and slowly withdrawing his shaft from her. She aimed it higher and pressed the head against her flexing bottom hole. He was slick with her juices and slowly slid past the tight orifice.

“Holy crap,” Brooke moaned, curling her body inward to allow him full entry. “That feels… incredible! More!”

“Maybe I should let you get drunk more often,” Collin chuckled, obliging. He slowly buried himself to the hilt, and Brooke mewed with pleasure. He reached around her waist to pull her tightly against him, his fingers landing on her swollen clit as he fucked her in the ass with animalistic pleasure. He filled her completely, driving his rod inside of her and delighting in her grunting response.

Brooke came with a guttural moan, shoving her backside against him to meet his own climax. His cock was still lodged within her as they both drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Brooke’s head pounded the following morning as waves of nausea assaulted her. She buried her face in her hands. “Turn it off! The light is too bright!”

“It’s called sunshine,” Collin said cheerfully, perched on the edge of the bed with a cup of coffee in hand. “I gather you are feeling the results of your party last night?”

“Kill me now,” she groaned, accepting the coffee and sipping.

“Nope. Part of your punishment is the suffering you get to experience as this drunken stupor wears off. The rest will come later.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t think for a second that I would turn a blind eye to the fact that you took off into town on foot and without saying anything to me. Then you insisted on dressing yourself like a slut before going to the local bar and getting yourself so drunk that you could barely walk. Thank God Francine was with you! What were you thinking?”

“You told me to get involved with the miniature club!”

“Would you like to explain how you ended up in this state?”

“The bottles were tiny,” she snickered. “Oh, my head…”

“This isn’t a laughing matter, Brooke. From this moment on, you are grounded—”

“You can’t ground me. Besides,” she shrugged, “I never go anywhere.”

“You will also be writing lines every day until I say otherwise.”

“I have nothing better to do anyway,” she said bitterly.

“Talking back to me is not helping your case. Your bare bottom and I will have an appointment together this evening, and I promise you, you will think twice before putting yourself into danger again.”

“You can’t spank my freedom out of me, Collin.”

“No, but I can spank some sense into you. I am so incredibly disappointed in you, Brooke.”

“So what? You aren’t the first.”

“But I am the one who matters. I love you. When this whole fiasco is over, I intend to make you mine for real. Get used to the idea, because it is not going to change, no matter how self-destructive and foolishly independent you try to be.”

“Collin, this is fantasy and—”

“My feelings for you are not fantasy. Please don’t insult me like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yes, well, you certainly will be. Carry this with you for the rest of the day. I better not see you without it.”

“What is it?”

“The instrument of correction that you will be meeting this evening. Six o’clock sharp. The time for words is over, sweetheart. We need to get down to business,” he stated, rising to kiss her forehead and then leaving the room.

Brooke gulped, turning the wicked looking item around in her hand. It was a clear Lucite paddle with a series of eight small holes drilled in lines down the center. The business portion was a solid twelve inches long and a good 1/4 inch in thickness, and it held beveled edges that sloped underneath a leather handle. She was surprised at how hefty it was, realizing that it would not take much of Collin’s strength to get the nasty looking device to perform full service on her bottom.

Brooke felt her stomach turn, wondering how much was due to the hangover verses raw nerves. She rubbed her aching head, contemplating exactly how badly she messed up. She also admitted that a part of her was relieved that Collin intended to punish her instead of ignoring her foolishness. Maybe he did care a little? She shifted uncomfortably on the bed, feeling the soreness of her bottom hole as well. She hoped the anal sex had been good for him, because she sure as hell remembered nothing! She did hope to revisit that activity again in the near future, though, if he was willing.

The tray of pancakes with warm, walnut-maple syrup did little to improve her mood. Collin ordered her to eat every last bite and watched her like a hawk until she had done so. He then escorted her to the bathroom and stood by the entire time, not giving her a moment’s privacy. He even selected her clothing and dressed her modestly, paying no mind to her griping as he reminded her that she lost the right to be independent because of her foolish actions. She argued, and he pointed to the Lucite paddle, wordlessly reminding her of their upcoming appointment for that evening. When asked about going to her sanctuary, he refused her. He scolded her, stating she had abused the purpose of the sanctuary, and as a result, he had removed the door from the room. He also firmly advised her to abandon any hope of privacy for the indefinite time she was grounded.

Brooke began to protest until she realized that he was forcing her to be with him 24/7. It made no sense, unless of course, he was fearful that the perpetrator was about to find her. She inquired, he denied her answers. She begged for personal space, he refused. She demanded an explanation, he gave none.

Minutes ticked by slowly, dragging as the day wore by. Brooke anxiously watched the clock on the wall, desperately thinking of a means to escape her doom—yet, she yearned for him to force her to accept it. Her hangover was nothing more than a memory, yet she worried her temples with her fingers. How could anyone both want and not want punishment? The dichotomy of her need confused her as she realized that she was both eager and dreading her time with him.

“It’s time,” Collin announced. “Go to the bedroom and strip completely. I don’t want to see one stitch of clothing left on your body. A word of warning, every button had better be undone and intact. You then are to stick your nose in the corner and wait for me.”

“Collin, honey, please—”

“Next time I gag you, it won’t be in play, so unless that is what you are aiming for, you might want to think about minding me without giving me lip.”

“Yes, Collin,” Brooke whispered, ascending the stairs on wobbly limbs. He had already stoked the fire, warming the room to a balmy temperature of 76 degrees. She grimaced as she realized that he had intentionally chosen garments with dozens of tiny adornments to dress her in after her bath. The cardigan, thin sweater, and denim skirt were covered with tiny abalone shell buttons. Her hands shook uncontrollably, making it difficult to grasp and maneuver the little discs out of their even smaller, tighter holes. The time it took for her to undress without snapping the buttons off was torturous and gave her cause to rethink her situation.

Even her underwear caused her difficulty as it also had a series of small buttons along the side that made the garment snug fitting. Her bra contained two buttons in the front, and biting her lip, Brooke undid those as well. She did not want to chance disobedience at this point in time, not even accidentally

She finally stood naked and exposed. She scanned the room for an appropriate corner and approached it solemnly. She messed up. Big time. She did see one light at the end of this tunnel, though. She was not ashamed of her nakedness for the first time in her life. She had finally come to terms and accepted this new body.

The realization was thrilling to her, but who could she share this news with? Collin. He would understand…

“I want to know everything that is going through your mind right now, Brooke,” his low voice sounding like a distant fog horn from across the room. His footsteps clipped against the wood floor, followed by the faint creaking of the bed as he sat on the edge.

Brooke shared her new-found confidence in her body, that she hated buttons, and that she had been so stupid to be so spiteful. She had taken a step back and now saw all the things he had done for her, things that went beyond the norm of caring in a platonic relationship. She admitted her fears and doubt and voiced the desire to reprogram her old tapes to play something positive and exciting.

Collin remained silent as Brooke started to sob, her nose still in the corner. She admitted wanting him to be jealous, just to see if she meant anything to him. She stated how angry she was that he did not notice her absence, and in order to punish him, she over-indulged. Brooke cried, telling him that she never drank to the point of forgetting, as she had done the night before, but that she
wanted
to forget.

She related that his silence disturbed her. Questions flew… Did he now think her unworthy of discipline? Did he chalk her off as a lost cause and did not wish to waste his breath on her? Did he now look down on her and see her as disposable? Did he know how frightening it was to bring all of these thoughts and feelings to surface and lay them out in the open?

Collin cleared his throat, and she grew silent.

“Do you want our relationship to work beyond what we have now?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, Collin. I swear, I do.”

“It’s won’t be easy.”

“I don’t care. I am tired of being afraid and not knowing.”

“Why are you being punished tonight, Brooke?”

“Because I was stupid, inconsiderate, and reckless with my life and safety.”

“Why else?”

“Because you care about my life and safety. Because you… you love me.”

“Good girl. Bring me the paddle.”

Brooke trembled as she approached him, fully aware of her nakedness and vulnerability. Collin looked up at her with warm eyes and held her hands.

“If we are going to succeed in our relationship, you will have to let go of these old lies and allow new truths to build. You must choose your words better as well. Words can put your well-being at risk just as much as actions.”

“I’m sorry I say I hate you. I really don’t.”

“I’m not talking about that, although, thank you. I am talking about what I call negative forecasting. You believe something bad will happen because you are afraid, and then you speak it aloud and essentially make it come to be.”

“Like self-fulfilled prophesying?”

“Exactly. What is going to happen here?”

“You are going to beat my ass, make it so I can’t sit for a week, and then tell me you did it because you love me?”

Collin chuckled, squeezing her hands. “Effective and accurately foreseen. Lay back on the bed, Brooke.”

“On my back? I don’t understand.”

“Mind me. Arms over your head.” Collin proceeded to restrain her wrists to the corner posts of the bed. Brooke worried her lower lip as he placed cuffs around her ankles and tied her legs together. She suddenly realized his intent.

“No! Collin, please! No!”

“The diaper position is probability the most humiliating pose to take for discipline. It is also said to be the most painful because it stretches everything out so nicely. Why are you crying? I haven’t done anything yet.”

“I’ll be good, I swear. Collin, I promise…”

He tossed the hemp ropes over the solid canopy frame and pulled, lifting her legs into the air. He tied the ropes to either side of her feet and then reached to scoot her bottom closer to the edge of the mattress. Alternatively, he adjusted the ropes and her bottom until the fleshy mound hung, unhindered, over the edge, with nothing to interfere with a free paddle stroke.

Brooke’s tears flowed helplessly, fully cognizant of the vulnerability to both her physical and emotional state. The cold paddle was laid to rest on her bottom, covering the sweet spot between the fold of her thigh and the swell of her buttocks.