Her Officer in Charge (6 page)

“Yep, you have to tell him. You and I both know the best way forward is to stay straight.”

“If it weren’t for the patrol reporting what she’d done, I’d be tempted to keep this to myself.”

“Well, they did, and regardless, that would be a bad idea,” Fred said grimly. “You’re not seeing things clearly, which tells me you’re thinking like a man, not an officer. If you want to keep her safe, and you want to keep your ass out of trouble, you’ve got to tell him, and I mean everything.”

Vince picked up his wine, then studied his friend’s earnest face.

“You’re right. I won’t go into the gory details, just that she came back here because she wanted to have a drink with me.”

“I’d better get back to Diane,” Fred declared, standing up. “If you need me, I’m in the large dressing room; you know, the one they use for the brides when they hold weddings here.”

“Got it, thanks, Fred.”

Taking a last gulp of wine, Vince headed to the office and, sitting behind the desk, he took a deep breath, picked up the phone, and called the major.

“Major, I have some news.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Bella Montgomery had Bateman drop her off down the street. She was followed back here, and I caught her hiding near the kitchen. She says she came back because she wanted to have a drink with me. Bateman supposedly got lost, then left the base.”

“So the Montgomery woman is our chief suspect,” the major declared.

“I’m not sure if—”

“Keep her there,” the major said brusquely. “If she claims she returned to the venue to see you, use it. Romance her. Get her talking.”

“Sir, I don’t think—”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday; make plans to spend the day with her. Better yet, keep her with you overnight. Get her back to your house. We can’t rule out Bateman, so pump her for information about him, though my money’s still on her.”

Vince was startled by the major’s rush to judgment, and even more surprised by his orders. Though Vince had seduced women during his years as an operative, they hadn’t been innocent civilians, and he was sure Bella was just that, an innocent civilian.

“If I may, sir, I don’t believe Bella is an operative.”

“She’s the one who was loose on the base,” the major snapped. “She probably realized she was being watched and, seeing people were still at the venue, she ducked in there and told you what she did as her excuse. You have your orders. Win her trust, do what you must to get her talking.”

“Yes, sir.”

Startled by the conversation, Vince hung up the phone. He had to follow orders, and though he was troubled by the major’s suspicions, the idea of having Bella at his house was immensely appealing.

“All right, Bella, time to warm that butt of yours,” he muttered and, pushing back from his desk, he headed from the room.

Chapter Eight

Bella had no idea how much time had passed. Her knees were hurting and her shoulders were bothering her, but when she heard the door open, the discomfort faded as her butterflies burst to life. She could hear him walking toward her, and as he slipped a blindfold across her eyes, tying it securely behind her head, she let out a whimper of trepidation.

“You, young lady, you came here in the hopes of being spanked, did you not?”

“Uh, yes, sir,” she bleated, “but it was more of a fantasy than—”

“That was a yes or no question,” he said sternly, interrupting her, “and if you think you can offer any excuses or suggestions that might prevent me from tanning your bottom, you are gravely mistaken. You’re about to get what you wanted, but there’s an old saying, be careful what you wish for. I believe you’ll find that adage highly applicable in this case. You are going to be soundly spanked on your bare backside.”

“Whaaaat?”

“You heard me. It’s the least you deserve,” he barked. “What did you think? I’d swat you a few times and let you walk out of here?”

“Uh, I wasn’t sure, I mean, I didn’t know,” she squeaked, “but must you, uh, pull down my, uh, must you expose me?”

“That, young woman, will soon be the least of your concerns.”

His broad hand pulled her up and lifted her by the waist. Carrying her the few feet to what she assumed was the sofa, he pulled across his solid lap. Though mortified by his threat, her natural defiance sent her wriggling in protest.

“Stop it,” he scolded, landing several hard, unexpected swats. “Settle into position and stay there!”

“
Ow!
Okay, I’ll be still,” she promised, shocked by the suddenness and severity of his smack.

“I’m going to start over these jeans,” he declared, moving his hand across her upturned seat, “but rest assured, they will soon be out of the way. Your bottom is going to feel the heat of my palm, up close and personal.”

“Oh, no, sir, please, sir, I’m sorry,” she mewled, “please don’t bare me, please don’t spank me too hard.”

The only response was a flurry of rapid-fire swats that seared through the denim fabric, making her squirm in a vain attempt to elude the discipline, but in spite of her dire circumstances and the hot sting already radiating across her bottom, she could feel the delicious, wet excitement between her legs.

“How dare you sneak back in here,” he scolded, pausing his hand. “Coming back to spy on innocent people just wanting some quiet, private time. Shame on you!”

“S-sorry,” she repeated, her voice a quivering whimper.

“Now I’m going to remove the cuffs, then you’re going to stand in front of me and lower your jeans yourself.”

“Whaaaat? No, sir, captain, please, no, please don’t make me do that.”

“You can beg and plead all you want, but it’s not going to make any difference,” he said briskly.

He was already unlocking her wrists, and as the cuffs came off she knew he was going to make good on his threat. She would have to lower her pants, and he was going to spank her bare butt. A burning wave of humiliation swept through her, and she cursed herself for ever thinking she could get the better of a marine captain.

“Bring your feet up behind you!”

Groaning and filled with dread, she did as he directed, and as he unshackled her ankles, she was suddenly grateful for her blindfold. At least she wouldn’t have to look at him. At least that would be spared her.

“Crawl off my lap onto your knees.”

Confused, but in no position to protest or question, his hot, hard hands helping her, she fumbled her way off his lap and, filled with trepidation, she waited.

He made her sit in anxious silence. Not only did he want her to live with the anticipation of what was coming, but he also needed her to catch her breath. A minute or so passed, and when her ragged panting began to abate, he lowered the boom.

“Take off your blindfold, then stand up and lower your jeans.”

Her gasp was not a quick expression of surprise, but a long, mortified breath of disbelief.

“Now, Bella!”

“Sir, must I? Please, sir, please, don’t make me,” she begged.

Already horrified at the thought of him seeing her bare and exposed, her only semblance of refuge was to be stripped from her.

“Would you prefer I remove my belt and use that on your naked bottom? Your blindfold and those jeans are coming off, either by your hand or mine, and if it’s mine, I can promise you, you won’t be sitting comfortably for some time.”

“If you want me to be sorry that I snuck in, I am,” she exclaimed.

“Not as sorry as you will be if you don’t take off that blindfold, get up, and pull down those jeans right now, all the way to your knees!”

She could hear the determination in his voice, and she knew she’d been defeated. That in itself was shocking. Men didn’t defeat her, she knew how to get the better of them, but Captain Valenti was different, very different. Cringing and utterly mortified, she untied the blindfold and, keeping her eyes on the floor, offered it up to him. She didn’t have to see his steely gaze; she could feel it.

Taking it from her hands, her simple, submissive gesture profoundly stirring his cock, he watched her slowly, unsteadily rise to her feet and slide down her zipper. Though her head was lowered and her hair was falling around her, he could see the heavy blush across her face, evidence of her well-deserved lesson in humiliation. She pushed her jeans to her knees, revealing feminine, white lace panties. Either by accident or design, she was wearing underwear to titillate.

“Back over you go,” he said sternly.

Shuffling her way forward, completely mortified, she leaned back over his lap, his large, strong hands taking her by the waist and guiding her into position.

“Yes, as I suspected, your bottom is pink, but not red,” he declared, staring down at her delectable derriere, the white lace in marked contrast to the rosy color of her skin, “and red it must be, very red. Isn’t that right, Bella?”

“If you say so, sir,” she whispered, wishing she could turn back the clock.

“The panties must go.”

“Nooo, sir, please,” she wailed, the thought that he might see the slick wetness in her sex too mortifying to consider.

“Yes, Bella, I’m going to dispense with them right now. Be grateful I didn’t make you lower them with your jeans standing in front of me.”

Bella couldn’t believe what was happening. His fingers were slipping into the waistband of her underwear, and he was slowly, agonizingly slowly, sliding them over her backside. When he slid them down to her thighs, she pushed her head into the sofa cushion, trying to bury her humiliation.

“Yes, hide your shame, young lady. You should. Your bare bottom though, you can’t hide that,” he said, sending his hand to work, “no, you can’t hide that.”

Starting a steady rhythm, he peppered her skin, moving his slaps across the center of her cheeks, then down to the soft, sensitive area where her thighs met her cheeks.

“Right where you sit,” he exclaimed, sending a volley of hard swats, landing three at a time.

Bella wailed and kicked, but the jeans around her knees were acting as a restraint, and his strong hold around her waist was preventing much movement.

“Sir, sir, captain, please,” she howled. “I’m so, so, sorry. Please stop, please!”

“I’ll stop when I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he scolded, his hand continuing its punishment. “You’re used to batting those eyes at men and getting away with murder, but not with me, no way.”

“No, sir, not with you, no, sir.”

He paused to shift her slightly, and as he did, he saw the telltale glisten of arousal between her legs. The sight sent a jolt of energy straight to his cock, but studying her reddened backside, he felt a wave of compassion as well. He had spanked her with gusto, and the evidence was clear.

“Six more to finish,” he announced, “and I’m going to make them count. You can yell all you want, no one will come running. I hope you’ve learned your lesson, and remember who’s in charge around here.”

“Yes, sir,” she panted trying to put her hand behind her to rub her flaming backside. “You’re in charge, absolutely, totally, and I was so wrong to come back.”

“If I’m in charge, what’s that hand doing there? I didn’t give you permission to reach back,” he scolded and, grabbing her wrist, he bent her elbow and held it at the small of her waist. “You just earned yourself a little extra before we start the last six.”

Before she could speak he delivered a series of three slaps to various parts of her bottom. She howled heartfelt promises of obedience and a stream of apologies, and when she did an impressive imitation of a dolphin leaping over a wave, he released her wrist and allowed her to rest.

“Catch your breath,” he said, rubbing her bottom. “When I’m in charge, that’s what I mean. I think you have a better understanding of that now.”

“Yes, sir,” she groaned. “Definitely.”

“Are you ready for your six?”

“May I please have one more minute, sir?”

“That’s the most polite thing you’ve said to me since we met. Perhaps we’re getting somewhere. Yes, you may.”

Bella sank into his lap. Six more. She could handle six more, but the captain had done more than take her breath away with his spanking hand. He had shown her who he was, a no-nonsense marine who had no problem delivering discipline as he saw fit. It was a painful dream coming true.

“Are you ready now?” he asked again.

“Yes, sir, thank you for the moment.”

“Here we go then, number one,” he declared, dispatching his hand to the very center of her backside. “Ask for the next.”

“Number two, please, sir.”

The second hit on her sit spot, and when she called out the third, the swat kissed the opposite side with fire.

“Number four, please, sir,” she howled.

His hand landed back on its original target, then stunned her, delivered the next two on the same spot in quick succession. She bellowed and kicked as much as her jeans would allow, then dropped limp on his lap, moaning into the sofa cushion.

“I spanked you hard because you deserved it,” Vince said firmly. “Just lie there for a few minutes while I rub. Take the opportunity to think about your behavior, and be grateful all you received was a hot, stinging backside, and not several days behind bars with a hefty fine.”

“Yes, sir,” she whimpered, “thank you, sir.”

The room fell silent, but for her soft whimpers. It had been her first punishment spanking, and it had hurt, but as worried as she’d been about the handsome captain seeing her bare backside, she was now grateful for the soothing comfort of his caress.

“Now I’m going to hold you, but only if you want me to.”

“Yes, please,” she whimpered.

As she slid off his lap and crawled into his arms, she found the courage to lift her eyes and meet his. There was only kindness and warmth reflected in his irresistible blue eyes. He’d been tough with her, but she could feel his warmth and caring, and when he pulled her into his arms and cradled her, she sank into his hug.

“Such a naughty girl,” he purred.

“My butt is so sore,” she bleated,
and your arms feel amazing.

“That is the desired result,” he remarked, “and let’s not forget, you did want me to spank you.”