8. Supper and Sore Bottoms

"Braden, we'll have to call you back."

Without waiting for an answer, Mr. Bastian ended the call. He didn't give her time to move or react before he jerked her from her uncomfortable kitchen chair and hauled her face down over his lap.

His hand crashed against her ass in a painful spank, followed by a storm of blows like he was beating a drum.

"Bastian!" She howled in anger mixed with pain, and when she tried to escape, Desmond trapped her legs to hold her still. "What the fuck? Ow!"

"Young ladies shouldn't swear."

Whack. Whack. Whack.

Desmond followed up with, "And they need to be respectful to the people trying to help them."

Whack.

"Oh! Ow! That fucking hurts!"

She'd always imagined them spanking her, but her fantasies were less pain and more sexy times. What they were doing shouldn't have been sexy.

No, she couldn't say she enjoyed getting a punishment spanking, Except…

Somehow, she did.

Bastian's hand on her ass hurt but felt strangely good at the same time. Her pussy dampened as the heat from her punished bottom went deeper into her core, and every time he spanked her, the movement rubbed her needy center against the hard muscle of his thigh. She bit back a moan, knowing it was the absolute worst time to tell a man who seemed hell bent on beating the sass out of her that his punishment wasn't doing what he'd intended.

"A punishment spanking is supposed to hurt." Bastian delivered several hard blows to the tender crease between her ass and thighs. "Young ladies should definitely not put themselves at risk in an auction for their virginity. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?"

Desmond knelt and grabbed her hair to make her look at him. "And they should always come to their Daddies when they need help."

She could let go. Release all the tension she'd held since she was five and Victor introduced her to the first in a long line of transient nannies while he went out and did whatever he did with his life.

Giving in to Desmond and Bastian was a single step, and sounded easy on the surface, but she'd given her trust so many damned times already.

Will I see Dad on Christmas morning?

Tania was ten before she finally stopped asking that dumbass question. Although Victor never let a holiday go by without presents, expecting him to show up when she opened them was as much a childhood fantasy as Santa Claus.

Bastian and Desmond cared enough to call her out for being stupid when she put herself up for auction. They chased her down at school, offered to help with Mandy's house, and with Dr. Pappas.

Then there was the man at the club with the corset and gold pants. He might have looked too submissive to protect her, but she hadn't missed how Dr. Pappas backed down from him.

Aside from the state trooper, who hadn't given her the ticket she deserved, the man in the gold pants was another person who cared what happened to her, and he didn't even know her.

Would it be so bad to let Bastian and Desmond in?

No, but also yes. It would be one thing if they couldn't help. She'd be no worse off than she was now, and she couldn't expect them to subsidize the mortgage on Mandy's house, much less pay it off. Unfortunately, trusting them would be giving them a way to hurt her like Victor had done for so many years.

Bastian tightened his fingers on her abused ass as Desmond kissed her forehead.

"Babygirl…" Desmond's voice softened, and he wiped a tear from her cheek. "Let us help you. Please."

With that one word, the sobs came, thick and choking as she cried for all the hurts, all the isolation, and all the times she'd needed her dad when he was too self-absorbed to care.

She cried for Mandy, who, like her, was lost in a world that didn't give two shits if she lived or died. She bawled her heart out for Bee, who would never know a father who should have loved her.

And most of all, as Desmond and Bastian cuddled her in their laps and tried to soothe her with soft touches and softer words, she cried for herself.

Letting everything go, she closed her eyes and let them hold her as she drifted into exhausted slumber.

* * *

The scentof cooking food and the sound of low voices woke her.

Did her oven even work?

She blinked and sat up, squinting at the setting sun through her bedroom window. Unsurprisingly, Bastian and Desmond had tucked her into bed.

Her belly rumbled as she tried to remember the last time she'd eaten more than a handful of chips. Was it two days ago or three? Her clothes fell in a trail as she trudged to the bathroom to shower off the grime left from her meltdown and a truly heinous weekend.

It had been too much to hope Desmond and Bastian were gone. She just wasn't that lucky and didn't need the smell of cooking food or the sound of their conversation to tell her they weren't going to leave her alone.

Despite her nap, she was too tired to even be embarrassed over them spanking her.

After cleaning up, she dressed in yoga pants and her favorite cotton sweater, then trudged from her bedroom to face the music.

"Hey, babygirl. Did you have a nice nap?" Desmond asked from his spot in front of the stove, which apparently did work. He slid a skillet forward, then back, tossing mushrooms into the air before catching them expertly.

"Um, yes?"

Bastian poured a glass of wine and gave it to her. It was an actual glass, which she didn't own, and there definitely hadn't been such an expensive vintage in her fridge. "Supper will be ready in a few."

* * *