Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 6 ‘All Souls and Sadists’. A few lines are directly from the show.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Coerced spanking of an adult.

Don’t Beat Yourself Up - S1xE6

Malcolm watched the police car drive away with Isaac in the back. It had been less than half an hour since he’d talked the boy into handing over the knife and turning himself in to get help. His heart ached for the kid.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Malcolm knew it was Gil before the older man stepped up beside him.

Gil patted his shoulder before letting go. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Malcolm nodded and got in Gil’s car. On the drive home, Malcom thought over the case and all the mistakes he’d made on this one. At first he’d been certain about his profile, but Gil and Dani had assumed he’d been mistaken.

Gil had been kind about it while pointing out the reasons Malcolm’s profile could be wrong.

There’s a kid involved almost the age you were when… I could see how that could get into your head. Don’t beat yourself up.

Then when Malcolm had started to question his own profile, Gil had continued to be kind about the potential mistakes.

“I screwed up,” Malcolm said.

Gil with the ever present comforting grip on his shoulder had said, “You’re a profiler, not a psychic. You can’t always know who the killer is.”

Malcolm shook his head. “No, not that. He’s losing both of his parents, and I told Isaac he was going to be okay. I promised him.”

Gil let go of his shoulder. “It’s what you say to a kid.”

“No, I lied to him. None of this is okay.”

Gil sighed, gave Malcolm a pointed look, and repeated himself from thirty minutes ago. “Don’t beat yourself up. You couldn’t have known.”

Malcolm absently nodded to appease his mentor, but continued to berate himself internally.

Then there was the meeting with his therapist. Thank God for Gabrielle’s insight. Without it an innocent woman might have been on her way to prison, and Isaac might be lost in the system for years until it was too late for him to get the help he needed.

He’d told Gabrielle that he was feeling bad for Isaac, and she’d said, “You see yourself in him.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because your view on human nature can sometimes border on bleak.”

Malcolm had chuckled. “Bleakish.”

“That’s what makes you a good profiler. You see the worst in people. But with this boy you want to see the best in him.”

Malcolm sat up, his stomach uneasy. “I want to see the best in him. That’s a subconscious urge.”

Gabrielle nodded. “I suppose. It’s only natural.”

“Yeah, sure. But it means I have an unconscious bias. A blind spot.”

“I thought it was a good thing.”

Malcolm shook his head. “Not if you job is to see people for who they really are, no matter how dark it may be.” Feeling sick to his stomach as he realized what he’d missed, he quickly left her office.

Malcom closed his eyes, and leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the car window.

“I heard what you said to Isaac,” Gil said.

Malcolm’s eyes opened and he glanced at the older man. “What part?”

“That you understand what it feels like to not be okay. To feel like something’s broken inside you.”

“Oh.” He hoped Gil wouldn’t want to delve any deeper into that bag of worms.

“You know being a submissive masochist doesn’t make you broken.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Of course. We’ve been over that enough times to last a lifetime. That’s not why I’m upset.”

Years ago he never would have let himself smile when that asshole at the gym was hurting his arm, and he never would have admitted to being a masochist when he knew Gil was listening. But that cat got out of the bag when he was eighteen and Gil had seen his online browser history.

“Are you still beating yourself up over this case?” Gil asked.

“It was my unconscious bias that almost got an innocent woman sent to prison.”

“No, Bright. It was your brilliant profile and continued belief in your work that eventually kept an innocent woman out of prison and led to getting Isaac the help he needs.”

Malcolm sighed and looked out the window again. “That’s one way to look at it.”

“No kiddo, that’s the only way to look at it, and it sounds to me like you need a reminder not to hang on to guilt.”

Malcolm’s eyes opened wide, he sat up straight, and shook his head. It was never good when Gil called him ‘kiddo’ or brought up ‘reminders’. “I don’t need a reminder, Gil. Honestly, I don’t.”

Gil took his eyes off the road long enough to give Malcolm a little glare. “Do you need a reminder about lying, too?”

“Gil,” Malcolm whined.

“Have you found a new Dom since coming home?” Gil asked.

Wishing Gil had never found out about that side of himself, Malcolm pouted, slouched down again, and glared out the window.

“I asked you a question, Bright.”

“No,” Malcolm reluctantly admitted.

“How long has it been?”

“I don’t know. A few months.”

Gil sighed. “Months?”

“I can’t just look in the phone book for one, it takes time. And…”

“And?”

“Now that I’m visiting my father again, I’ve got to be careful. I don’t want to give him anything else to hold over my head. He doesn’t need more fodder to manipulate me with.”

“I get that, but you can’t just ignore your needs. You’ll end up in crisis.” Gil parked in front of Malcolm’s loft. “Let’s go talk inside.”

Malcolm unlocked the door, walked up the stairs, and immediately went to pour them both a drink.

Gil took the glasses away before Malcolm could pour. “I don’t think so.”

Malcolm’s shoulder’s slumped. Gil put a hand on the back of Malcolm’s neck and gently led him over to the end of the couch. He pointed to the arm. “Right here.”

“I know it’s not my fault that I didn’t realize Isaac was the killer when I first met him.”

“Great. Now tell me that your inner submissive doesn’t feel guilty, and that your inner masochist is going to let you fall asleep tonight without a whipping.”

Malcolm cringed and leaned over the arm of the couch, resting his entire upper body on the couch cushions.

“That’s what I thought.” Gil took his belt off and stood beside Malcolm’s prone form. “Okay, kiddo, stay in place, and when I’m done you’re going to tell me that it’s not your fault that you didn’t immediately suspect Isaac. If I hear sincerity in your voice, we’ll be done. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” Malcolm grabbed the edge of the couch cushion in both hands to keep himself in place.

For the next couple of minutes, Gil laid down lash after lash on Malcolm’s backside.

Malcolm yelped loudly at the first couple, then he gritted his teeth, gripped the cushion tighter, and waited for the endorphins to flood his brain and convert the pain in his ass from unpleasant to perfectly tolerable. It took about eighteen harsh smacks, but after that Malcolm was able to unclench his jaw, loosen his death grip on the couch, and fully relax into the sensation of the belt landing again and again.

He wasn’t sure how many Gil had given him before the strikes stopped, but he’d guess around thirty.

“Got something to say, Bright?” Gil asked.

In a dreamy haze, Malcolm frowned and tried to remember. “It’s not my fault I didn’t immediately know Isaac was the killer, and I shouldn’t beat myself up.”

“No more holding on to guilt?” Gil asked.

Malcolm turned his head back to make eye contact. “No more holding on to guilt.”

“Okay.” Gil put his belt back on, and gestured for Malcolm to stand.

He pushed himself up with a hiss and a smile. “Thanks, Gil. I… I know you’re not a Dom, and that you don’t like doing this. I didn’t realize how much I needed it. Thanks for stepping in.”

Gil put a comforting hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “I expect you to find a new Dom before the month is over. Got it.”

“Got it.”

“Tell me once it’s done. I won’t be happy if I have to do this again before you’ve found someone. This comes under the heading of taking care of yourself.”

“I know,” Malcolm agreed. “I’m sorry you had to—”

“No,” Gil cut him off. “No apologies. Just fix it so there’s not a next time.”

“Okay.”

Gil patted his shoulder once before letting go. “No alcohol. I want you to go to bed as soon as I leave. Get some sleep before the effects of the whipping wear off.”

“I will.”

Once Gil was gone, Malcolm slipped off his shoes, took off his tie, and flopped onto his bed. He put his restraints on, which only helped push him further into his happy haze. He was asleep within minutes.

The next morning, Malcolm felt better than he had in months. He went to go check on Isaac and talk to the judge on the kid’s case. Then he went to give Gil the good news at the precinct.

“The judge in Isaac’s case cleared his admission to Gardner Psychiatric. I told them to add me to the permanent visitors list.”

Gil gave him a proud smile. “Good for you. Hopefully they can help him.”

Malcolm looked away and didn’t reply.

“What is it?” Gil asked.

“Uh, it’s just… after everything I went through as a kid, sometimes I wonder if I could’ve turned into someone like Isaac.”

“Not on my watch,” Gil said firmly.

Malcolm smiled. “Right.”

“Since the case is closed, why don’t you work on that assignment I gave you last night.”

“I’m on it.” Malcolm nodded and left Gil’s office with a smile.

The End.

Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 7 ‘Q&A’. A few lines are straight from the show.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: A couple non-consensual swats of an adult.

Don’t Ignore Your Mother - S1xE7

Jessica rushed into the police station at her wits end. She found Gil, who must have seen the panic in her face and immediately took her to his office to talk.

“The interview should have been done hours ago,” Jessica said. “But I can’t get ahold of either of my children.”

Gil held his hands up in a placating gesture. “There was a lockdown at the hospital. It’s a security precaution. They’re safe.”

Jessica raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Safe?”

Gil sighed and put his hands on Jessica’s shoulders. “Your kids aren’t kids anymore, Jessica. Ainsley made this choice herself. And Malcolm… well Malcolm will be fine, too. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, and he won’t do anything stupid.”

Jessica knew without a doubt that Gil’s reassuring words were completely false. Malcolm would absolutely do something stupid and life threatening if he thought it would help keep others safe or solve a case.

“I’ve got to go,” Jessica said, pulling away from Gil’s gentle grip.

He called after her, but she continued walking as if he hadn’t spoken. She got back to the limo and told Adolpho to take her to Claremont Psychiatric Hospital. When they arrived there were police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances out front.

“Let me out, here, and park down the street” she said.

He parked in front, let her to get out, and then went to park. Jessica rushed towards the doors only to see Ainsley rushing out.

“Ainsley!”

“Mom!” Ainsley ran to hug her mother. “I’m okay. Malcolm too. We’re both okay.”

The gnawing pit of dread that she’d been feeling for the past four hours finally died down after hearing those words, and feeling her daughter in her arms.

“I’ve got to go.” Ainsley said, pulling back.

“Go?”

“I’ve got to go to the hospital with Jin.”

Ainsley stepped into the nearby ambulance, and Jessica noticed her cameraman, and sometimes lover, on a gurney inside.

“Okay,” Jessica agreed.

Ainsley paused, glanced back at Jessica and said, “He saved him. Dad saved Jin.”

Jessica watched the ambulance doors close and the pit of dread started gnawing at her again. “Of course he did,” she muttered to no one but herself. With a sigh she turned to face the doors, and waited for her son.

She asked a couple of the officers and EMT’s that were going in and out, but no one seemed to know who her son was. She tried to call Malcolm three more times, with no answer.

Fifteen minutes later, as she was listening to his phone ring and ring, Malcolm stepped out the front door.

“Mom?” Malcolm asked, clearly surprised to see her.

Glaring, she walked up to Malcolm, showed him the phone’s screen with his number, and then stuffed it back in her purse.

He winced. “Oh, right. Sorry. I was a little preoccupied.”

She grabbed him by the wrist, and towed him toward the limo.

He didn’t try to physically stop her, but he complained, “Mother.”

“Preoccupied.” She repeated, shaking her head.

“I can’t go home with you right now. I’ve got to report to Gil at the precinct.”

They were beside the limo, half a block away from the flashing lights and people milling around doing their jobs. 

She stopped abruptly, whirled around to face him, and pointed a finger at his face. “You were preoccupied for the past four hours? In all that time there wasn’t one moment for you to answer my call or call me back?”

“I was trying to make sure everyone was safe!”

Jessica pursed her lips. “Answer the question, Malcolm. Surely there must have been a moment or two during those four hours when you could have answered my call or called me back.”

He looked away, but not before she saw the guilt in his eyes.

She transferred her grip from his wrist to his upper arm, turned him to the side and smacked his backside hard twice.

“Mom!” Malcolm protested and twisted his arm out of her grip. He backed up a few steps and glanced around wildly, clearly hoping no one had been close enough to see what she’d done.

She crossed her arms. “All I wanted was a word or two to make sure you and your sister were still alive, but you couldn’t be bothered.”

He glared at her. “Well maybe we thought you’d be more worried instead of less, if you got the play by play on how there was a murdering psychopath on the loose while our father was out of his handcuffs and holding a scalpel!”

A shudder of terror ran though her. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and focused on Malcolm again. “I didn’t need a play by play, Malcolm. I just needed to know you were alive.”

Malcolm took a deep breath as well. “You’re right. I’m sorry you were worried. If there’s a next time, I’ll answer my phone. Okay?”

She scrutinized him for several seconds before determining he was telling her the truth. “Okay.” She opened the limo door and gestured for him to get in. “I’ll take you to the station, but after you make your reports to Gil, I want you to come home for tea.”

“It’s late, and I’d—”

“It’s the least you can do after making me worry about you for hours.”

Malcolm sighed. “Fine. I’ll stop by for tea after I talk to Gil.”

“Excellent.”

She gestured for him to get in the limo. His shaky hand went to his backside for a fraction of a second, before he gestured for her to get in first.

“After you.”

Stifling a smirk, she got in. Once he was seated beside her, she pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’m glad you’re safe.”

He hugged her back. “Me, too.”

She reluctantly let him go and told Adolpho to take them to the precinct.

The End.

Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 8 ‘Family Friend’. A few lines are straight from the show.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: ‘Consensual’ punishment spanking of an adult female with romantic overtones. There isn’t explicit consent, but it’s implied.

Don’t Drink and Tote Guns - S1xE8

Gil smiled fondly as Jessica offered his team alcohol. No one was dumb enough to take her up on her offer while he was standing there. Not even Bright, who looked like he could use one after getting a phone call from a serial killer who had a connection to his father. Jessica glanced at Gil with her eyebrows raised.

“I’m fine with coffee.”

“Hazelnut liquor?” Jessica offered.

He shook his head and took a sip of the coffee she’d provided a while ago.

Jessica frowned and went to pour herself some more straight gin, and Gil lost his smile. One of his men came up to let him know they’d routed the phone line to the precinct so if the killer called again the police would know and might be able to get a location.

Bright said adamantly that the killer would call again.

Gil noticed Jessica’s horrified expression as she walked over to the corner of the room and set her alcohol down.

He walked over to give her some quiet reassurance away from everyone else.

“Jessica, are you alright?”

“Just peachy, Gil.” She gave him a fake laugh. “A regular Tuesday around here.”

He sighed at her attempts to lighten the mood, and glanced back at her son, who didn’t look any happier than Jessica did. Gil desperately wished he could do more to help them. When he turned back to face Jessica, she was a few feet away searching for something on a bookshelf.

Stepping closer he said, “We could move you to a safe house for a few days.”

She turned back around holding a large book. “Absolutely not! I’m sure your accommodations are about as inviting as a Milwaukee Radisson.”

He smiled at her ridiculous statement. She was such a brat sometimes it reminded him of his late wife, Jackie, when they were both much younger. He doubted Jessica would respond well to a firm hand across her backside the way Jackie had, though he often had the urge.

While he was thinking about that, she opened the large book just a crack, looked inside, and sighed with relief. He was tall enough to catch a glimpse of a small pistol hidden inside the center of the book where the pages had been cut out.

He almost demanded that she hand it over before remembering they were in a room full of people. Instead, he schooled his features and said, “At least let us leave some officers outside.”

Jessica hugged the book to herself and shook her head. “I was married to one of the most notorious serial killers of the 20th century. I can look after myself.”

Gil had to bite his tongue as she grabbed her drink, held it up to him in a salute, and walked off with her book. He knew he’d have to have a word with her once everyone else had left. He went back to stand next to Bright. “Don’t worry, I’ll post a patrol unit. Jessica doesn’t need to know.”

“Thanks, Gil.” Bright said.

Over the next half hour, the forensic team and Gil’s detectives finished up their work and left one by one. Soon it was just Gil and Malcolm. Gil patted Malcolm’s shoulder and said, “Go home, kid. Get some sleep. We’ll meet first thing tomorrow, and you can give us a profile.”

Malcolm looked up towards his mother’s room where Jessica had stayed since they’d last talked.

“I’ll tell her we’re leaving,” Gil assured him. “Offer to have an officer here one more time.”

Malcolm nodded in agreement, and left.

Gil walked up the stairs, went to Jessica’s bedroom, and knocked on the door. He heard some shuffling inside before she called out, “Come in.”

He opened the door, and found her standing next to the nightstand with her drink in hand. The book sat on the table behind her.

“What can I do for you, Gil?”

He held his hand out, “You can hand over that book.”

Her eyes opened wide before she scoffed. “Why on earth would you want to see my book?”

“Jessica,” he said gently, “We both know it’s not just a book. Hand it over.”

Scowling at him, she set her drink down, picked up the book and held it tight. “Listen, Gil—”

He stepped forward, cutting her off. “No, you listen Jessica. Did you buy that gun legally? Do you have a permit for it?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Permit?”

He stepped into her personal space, held his hand out again, and said firmly. “Hand it over.”

Jessica glared at him for about two seconds before shoving the book into his hands and picking up her drink.

Gil glanced at the weapon inside to get a better look, and shook his head. Of course it was fully loaded. “You’re not protecting yourself with an illegal gun. I’m confiscating it.”

“What? You can’t confiscate it!”

“You’re lucky that’s all I’m doing!” He’d never wanted to spank her more than he did at this moment in time.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

Realizing he’d said too much, Gil shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”

“I need a way to protect myself, Gil.”

“Drinking and toting a loaded gun around doesn’t instill confidence, Jessica. Let the police protect you. I can have an officer here in your house all night making sure no one breaks in.”

“I won’t be a prisoner in my own home!”

He pursed his lips and muttered, “You desperately need a trip over someone’s knee.”

Jessica gasped and stared at him with wide eyes.

Gil sighed, shook his head, and leaned towards her. “I’ve posted a squad car nearby. If you send them away, I’ll have you arrested for having an illegal weapon.”

She shook her head.

“Don’t test me, Jessica. I’m not in the mood.” He turned and walked toward the bedroom door. He looked back once and said, “All my men are gone, and I sent Malcolm home for the night. I’ll keep you posted if there are any new developments.”

With that, he turned and walked out before he lost his willpower.

# # #

Jessica watched Gil walk out, still in shock over his threats. He’d never been so forceful before. Maybe he had put a shot of something in his coffee while she wasn’t looking. She’d never found him so attractive. Forceful men had always been her Achilles heel, but after finding out what a monster Martin really was, she’d refrained from acting on her attraction to any other man.

As soon as she heard the front door shut, she walked over to her closet and searched through the shoe boxes on the top shelf. A few seconds later she found what she was looking for. She unboxed yet another loaded gun, and set it on the nightstand before getting ready for bed. Thank goodness her mother had always taught her to have a backup. Of course her mother had been talking about party dresses in case of spills, but the rule could be applied to other situations.

After getting in bed, she tossed and turned for hours. Once she finally fell asleep it was fitful and full of nightmares. The next morning, she woke up groggy and irritated, and by the afternoon she was paranoid and unfit for visitors. She cancelled all her appointments, and spent her time sipping alcohol, and starring out the windows holding her gun.

She heard a knock and called out to her maid, Katja, “Don’t answer that.”

But she heard voices and knew it was too late. Jessica quickly put the gun in a drawer. But not before that sneaky little lawyer, Eve Blanchard, saw her put it away. You’d think a lawyer who worked to stop human trafficking would be more politic about barging into people’s homes. Jessica tried to chastise the young woman at first, but then ended up talking to Eve for over half an hour about her new proposal. And Jessica genuinely felt more like herself by the time Eve left.

Later that evening, Malcolm stopped by while Jessica was watching her daughter report the news.

“Hello dear.”

Malcolm turned off the television and faced his mother. “Eve Blanchard came to visit me today.”

Jessica smiled. She would love it if her son finally settled down with a nice woman. Maybe she could stop worrying about him so much. “Isn’t she a lovely young woman?”

“She said you were armed.”

“That wretched little tattletale,” Jessica mumbled.

“Give it.” Malcolm held his hand out much the same way Gil had yesterday.

“You didn’t tell Gil, did you?” A little rush of fear mixed with desire ran through her body at that thought.

“Of course not, I don’t want you arrested.”

She frowned in disappointment, and then frowned even more deeply because disappointment wasn’t the correct emotion for not getting caught out.

Malcolm continued to hold out his hand expectantly.

Rolling her eyes, Jessica got the gun out from behind the pillow of the couch where she’d stashed it before turning on the television, and handed it to her son. He put it on the coffee table, and sat beside her on the couch.

“She was concerned about you. So am I.” He pointed to the gun. “This is dangerous.”

Not liking her son’s tone, she said, “You know what ese is dangerous? Serial killers.”

“Which is why police officers have been watching the house all day. Do you think I’d actually leave you here to fend for yourself?”

She didn’t exactly want to tell Malcolm about the conversation she’d had with Gil, so she said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you would have sent them away.”

There wasn’t much she could say to refute that, because without Gil’s threat, she absolutely would have sent them away.

Malcolm asked her about her staying in a hotel, and Jessica had to firmly tell him that she wouldn’t be run out of her home.

Malcolm’s phone rang while they were talking. “It’s Gil,” he said before answering.

She listened in while her son complained about the FBI taking over the case. By the time he hung up, he was agitated. He pointed to the gun and said, “Maybe you should keep that.”

She stood up, gave him a tight hug, and then held him at arm’s length. “Malcolm, try to see this as a good thing.”

“A good thing!”

“If the FBI is here to take over, you’ll be in less danger.”

He shook his head. “I’ve got to go.”

She watched him walk away wishing she could do more to help him. Her eyes went to the gun, and the disappointment swelled inside her again. She poured herself a double, and contemplated what that meant.

Jessica ended up sitting on the couch for a good two hours thinking things over. She knew in her heart that she wanted Gil to come over, find the gun, and follow through on his ridiculous threat. Not that she’d ever admit that to anyone, but deep down she knew it was true. She wasn’t a fan of pain, but she hadn’t felt truly safe in so many years, that the idea of someone else forcing her to stay safe was somehow… desirable. She never would have allowed that sort of thing when she was younger and married to Martin. But now that she’d had more life experience, she could see the appeal.

She was so lost in her thoughts, that she was startled when Gil appeared in her door way.

“Jessica?”

Realizing she must not have heard Katja letting him in, her eyes immediately darted to the gun that was still on the coffee table, and then focused on him. She winced when she realized his eyes were on the gun, and not her.

He put his hands on his hips. “What the hell? Did you go buy another one the second I left?”

“Of course not.” She waved a hand toward the gun. “I’ve had this old thing for years. It’s my backup.”

Gil just stared at her for a few seconds, clearly out of words.

“I sent the patrol car away,” Jessica looked down at her drink, wondering exactly how much she’d had. No sane person would purposely lie just to antagonize a police detective. She put the alcohol on the table.

“Between you and Bright, I’m going to have a heart attack before I’m sixty.” Gil pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket and said, “I don’t like it, but you’ve left me no choice. At least I’ll know you’re safe while you’re being processed.” He stepped toward her.

She stood, backed up a step, and scowled at him. “You can’t arrest me.”

He got close enough to grasp her wrist and pulled her close. “I assure you, I can.”

She put her free hand on his chest and looked into his eyes. “Last night you had a more… hands on approach in mind.”

His eyes opened wide in shock before they narrowed suspiciously. “Don’t tempt me, Jessica.”

Smirking, she raised an eyebrow and said, “If you station another patrol car at the house, I’ll send them home, too.”

Jessica wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but one second she was standing next to Gil, and the next she was across his lap staring at the couch cushion.

The flat of his hand smacked her backside.

She gasped at the sensation. Even though her panties, nylons, and black skirt, there was a slight sting at impact. Before she’d completely analyzed the first swat, another landed, and then another. She remained quiet after that first gasp. He wasn’t hitting particularly hard, and even after he’d covered every inch of her backside with smacks it didn’t hurt enough for her to cry out. It was almost disappointing.

Gil paused and said, “The second we’re done here, I’m going to post another patrol car, and you’re not going to send them away.”

She opened her mouth to disagree just as he brought his hand down much harder than before.

“Ah!” Jessica clamped her mouth shut, embarrassed by the outburst, and shocked by how much that smack had stung compared to the others.

Then another harsh swat landed.

“Ah!”

And another.

“Gil!”

“I am serious, Jessica”

“Ah! Damn it Gil! That hurts! Ah!”

Gil paused again. “Are you going to send the next patrol car away?”

She tried to catch her breath as the reality of the situation set in. She was across Gil’s lap getting her ass smacked, and it hurt. But for the first time since that damn phone in the basement had started ringing, she felt safe. Jessica frowned. That didn’t make any sense.

Gil sighed. “Okay, if that’s the way you want it.” Another harsh smack landed right where she sat down.

“Ah! Gil!”

Gil swatted while he spoke. “I asked you a question, Jessica. If you want to get off my lap anytime soon, you’d better answer me.”

“Ah! Ow!”

After another six smacks, Gil paused again. “Are you going to send the next patrol car away?”

“No! I won’t! I didn’t send the first one away!”

“What?”

She froze. “Uh…”

Gil’s voice was very quiet as he asked, “Are you telling me, that you never sent the first patrol car away?”

She bit her lip. “Well… I…”

“I see.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, and started smacking her much faster than before, but not quite as hard.

“Aaah!”

For the first time since landing on his lap, she tried to push herself up, and found it impossible. “Let me up!” she demanded.

He paused, but held her tight. “I don’t think so. Not after you worked so hard to get yourself in this position.”

“I did no such thing!” she pushed at his thigh, and squirmed to get away. A bit of shame welled up in her chest, because it was true, and they both knew it.   

“Okay, you tell me when you’re ready to behave yourself and listen to me.”

“Behave myself!” she scoffed.

“That’s right.” Gil’s hand started landing on her backside both hard and fast.

“Oww! Gil!”

Over the next several moments Jessica pushed, shoved, squirmed, kicked, and yelled all kinds of threats, but Gil remained steadfast in the punishment throughout all of it.

Eventually the pain got to her. She felt tears welling, and yelled, “Okay! I’ll… I’ll behave!”

He paused. “Are you ready to listen to me?”

His voice was so kind that tears spilled down her cheeks. “Yes.”

“Good. Is this gun on the table the only one left in the house?”

She sniffled. “Yes.”

“When I leave, I’m confiscating it. You’re not going to buy another one, are you?”

“No.”

“Okay, then we’re almost done.”

“Almost?” She looked back over her shoulder at him.

He locked eyes with her. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want an honest answer.”

“Okay.”

“Have you been carrying around that loaded gun all day while drinking?”

She winced, turned back to face the couch and said softly, “Yes.”

“That’s incredibly dangerous, Jessica. You’re never going to do that again. Is that clear?”

More tears spilled out at his serious tone. “Yes.”

“These last ten are your punishment for carrying the gun around today while you drank.”

Jessica barely had time to whimper before a new smack woke up the dying sting on her backside.

“Ow! Gil!”

She complained through the last ten as fresh tears ran down her face.

After the last smack, Gil took his arm off her waist. Instead of trying to get up, she rested her forehead on the couch, and tried to catch her breath.

“Okay, let’s talk.” Gil’s tone was soothing, as his hands went to her upper arms and pulled her up to sit next to him on the couch.

She was too embarrassed to make eye contact, and focused on her lap.

He put a finger under her chin and forced her eyes to meet his. He gave her the same gentle smile he always had for her, and she suddenly burst into noisy sobs.

Before she knew what was happening, Gil had pulled her over to sit in his lap. He put a hand on the back of her head, and gently guided her head to his shoulder before wrapping his arms around her.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said.

Overwhelmed by the sensation of being held after so many years, Jessica simply couldn’t do anything other than cry as she gripped the lapels of his suit jacket.

It took several minutes, but soon she was down to sniffles while he rubbed soothing circles on her back.

“Are you ready to talk?” Gil asked gently.

She nodded against his shoulder.

“Have you ever been spanked before?”

She lifted her head from his shoulder to make eye contact. “Of course not.”

He pulled a napkin out of the breast pocket of his jacket and held it out to her.

Glancing at it with distaste, Jessica said, “Where on earth did you get that?”

“I carry them around in case I need to pick up evidence in a hurry. It’s clean.”

She took it, dabbed at her eyes, and gently blew her nose.

Gil said, “Jackie and I... Before we got married… We had an agreement…”

Taking pity on him Jessica said, “I could tell this wasn’t your first rodeo, Gil. You were… too proficient to be a novice.”

“Well, yes. But I didn’t discuss this with you beforehand, and that was a mistake.”

Jessica chuckled and shook her head. “Gil, I knew perfectly well what I was goading you into. And I…” she put a hand on the side of his face, “I felt safe the whole time. That’s not something I’m accustomed to feeling.”

She looked off into the distance and thought about those last few years with Martin. “Even before I knew what Martin was, I never would have pushed him the way I pushed you tonight.” She made eye contact again. “Because you make me feel safe, and he didn’t.”

Gil leaned in and gave Jessica a soft kiss on the lips. “Thank you.”

She rubbed her thumb across his lips to wipe up any lipstick. “No. Thank you.”

“Once this case is over, I’d like to take you to dinner.”

Her eyes opened wide. “Dinner?”

“I know I don’t bring much to the table with a detective’s salary, but—”

“I’d love to,” she said. “I have too much money as it is, and you bring things to the table that money can’t buy.”

“And just to be clear, dating or not, if I catch you with another gun, I’ll put you right back over my knee.”

Jessica grinned. “Good to know.”

Gil rolled his eyes. “You’re as incorrigible as Malcolm.”

“I think I should be offended.”

He chuckled and patted her back. “I’d much rather stay, but this is still an open case, so I’m going home.” He gently pushed on her back.

She stood, and he stood as well.  He picked up her gun, stuck it in his pocket and gave her a look. “I’m checking on the patrol car before I leave. I hope for your sake you weren’t lying, because the next time I spank you, the skirt is coming off.”

Jessica gasped, put her hands back to cover her sore backside, and shook her head. But even as she protested outwardly, a small rush of desire ran through her.

He leaned in, gave her a quick kiss on the lips, and then walked away. He called over his shoulder, “I’ll come give you an update tomorrow night. Hopefully we will have caught this guy by then.”

Once she heard the door close, Jessica rubbed her sore bottom. “Hopefully,” she agreed. She picked up her drink, and carried it up to her bedroom with her to get ready for bed.  

The End.

Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 9 ‘Pied-A-Terre’.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: A couple of non-consensual swats of an adult.

Don’t Profile Your Date - S1xE9

“No matter how many people you save, you can’t save the other half of that heart,” Malcolm said, completing the profile of his date.

He noticed Eve’s eyes had filled with unshed tears just before she turned and walked quickly towards the bathroom.

“Eve, wait,” he called after her, realizing that he’d taken it too far. The sounds of the pool hall came rushing back to his ears, and he hung his head. He’d brought Eve to this specific place to have a ‘normal’ date, and he’d just ruined it by being himself.

JT’s wife, Tally, said, “I am so sorry I suggested you profile someone.”

Malcolm shook his head at his own stupidity. He should have refused. “JT was right. It’s not a party trick.”

JT’s phone rang. After looking at the screen he said, “Sorry, Hon, we’ve got to go.”

Malcolm glanced at the bigger man.

“Dani found Jasper,” JT said, referring to the suspect on their current case.

Malcolm looked back toward the bathroom. He desperately wanted to explain things to Eve, but time was of the essence.

Tally stood in front of Malcolm and waved her hand towards her husband. “Go on. I’ll explain everything to Eve. I’ve been a cop’s wife for seven years. I know you don’t have time it will take to comfort her, but I do.”

“Thank you,” Malcolm said with sincerity.

JT gave his wife a quick kiss, before heading outside with Malcolm following.

“I can’t believe I profiled my date.” Malcolm bemoaned as JT raised a hand to hail a cab. “Why didn’t you stop me?” Malcolm asked.

JT gave Malcolm an incredulous look. “I said your name when I thought you were taking it too far.”

“You did? I get a little lost in my head, especially when I’m profiling. I didn’t even hear you.”

JT looked back to the street, still holding out his hand for a cab. “I wasn’t talking real loud. I was trying to be discreet so I didn’t embarrass you in front of your girl by calling you out.”

Malcolm shook his head. “Sparing me a little embarrassment isn’t high on the list of priorities. Not bringing up traumatic memories for my date is. Next time just smack me upside the head.”

“Pretty sure that’s the opposite of being discreet,” JT said, “And who says there’s going to be a next time? I’m not your wingman.”

“Sure, I doubt I’ll be showing up to play pool again anytime soon, but if we’re ever in a similar situation, feel free to slap me on the back hard and tell me to buy another round. Just some kind of physical jolt to shock me out of my head.”

“Duly noted,” JT said.

A cab pulled up to the curb, and JT gave him the address that Dani had provided for their suspect.

Once they were on their way, Malcolm rested his forehead on the glass and wished he could take back the last ten minutes of time. Why did his stupid brain always have to get in the way? Eve would probably never want to speak to him again. Who could blame her?

“What?” JT asked.

Malcolm turned to him with confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“You’ve sighed five times in the last three minutes. What?”

The cab pulled up in front of some expensive looking apartments.

Malcolm got out as he spoke. “I just can’t believe I ruined things with Eve already. I couldn’t even get through one date without being… me.”

JT got out as well, and the cab drove off.

“I don’t even know why I tried being normal.” Malcolm said.

JT grabbed Malcolm’s upper arm, and smacked his backside hard twice.

“What the hell?” Malcolm put his hands back to protect his ass, and stepped away from the bigger man when JT let go of his arm.

“Get out of your head and focus on the case.” JT pointed to the apartments. “We’re about to go into a potential killer’s house.”

“I can multitask!” Malcolm said. “And it’s completely inappropriate for you to spank me like an errant child. I told you to slap my back, not my ass.”

JT held a finger up for each point he made. “You have your own restraints. You told Simone you have a high pain threshold. You seem more than comfortable hanging out in a sex shop and talking to a dominant. You told me to hit you to get you out of your head, and you didn’t care if it was embarrassing.” He crossed his arms. “I’m no profiler, but those things all add up to you being some kind of kinky.”

Somewhat impressed by JT’s analysis, Malcolm realized he needed to give the big guy more credit in the future. He was smarter than he looked.

“Kinky means you’ll respond better to a spanking than anything else.”

Malcolm frowned, and was about to tell JT how faulty that theory was, but the big man continued. “And for the record, I wouldn’t spank an errant child. Just a kinky errant profiler who needs to get out of his head and focus on the task at hand.” JT jerked a thumb towards the building.

“Right,” Malcolm agreed. He took his hands off his ass, straightened his coat, and said begrudgingly, “Okay, I’m focused.” He gestured to the building. “Can we go catch a killer please, and never bring this up again?”

“Deal.”

The two men walked into the building together and found Gil and Dani waiting for them at the front desk.

The End.

Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 10 ‘Silent Night’. The first few lines are straight from the show.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Non-consensual spanking of an adult.

Don’t Defend Your Bad Decisions - S1xE10

Jessica checked the Christmas tree for the tenth time to make sure all the little details were perfect. Not that her two adult children appreciated her attention to detail. She’d count herself lucky if they both showed up. And it would be a miracle if they both showed up on time, didn’t bicker, didn’t bring up their father, and didn’t bring up nasty murder cases during the dinner Jessica had planned.

“Hello?” Ainsley called out as she came through the front door holding a bottle of wine.

Smiling, Jessica took the bottle of wine that her daughter handed over. “Ah. You bought a twist-off.” She set it over on the counter to be disposed of later by the staff.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” Ainsley muttered sarcastically and sifted her purse higher on her shoulder. Perking up she asked, “Did you watch it?”

Less than two seconds in, and Jessica’s hopes for the evening were already dashed. Trying to defuse the situation before it started she said, “No comment.”

Ainsley scowled. “Can’t you at least try and be happy for me?”

Sighing, Jessica decided she’d better get into it now and cut off this conversation before Malcolm arrived. Voice dripping with sarcasm she said, “I’m overjoyed, dear. My home is surrounded by paparazzi and so-called journalists, your father has finally succeeded in making me a prisoner in my own home, and he had the assist from his overly ambitious offspring.”

Ainsley didn’t take the hint and continued to glare at her mother. “Ambition is not a dirty word. It’s the best thing about me… that and my hair.”

Jessica tried honesty instead of sarcasm, hoping to quell anymore arguments and maybe even instill a bit of the guilt that her daughter should be feeling over what she’d done. “Your father destroyed us; your brother and me. You put him on television and let him talk about it. You have gone and soaked yourself in blood. The press devoured us twenty years ago, and now they are at it again.” Jessica turned and walked away to fuss with the tree some more.

Ainsley yelled after her, “You’re playing the victim.”

Jessica stopped and paused. She tried to contain her anger at her daughter’s words. She truly wanted this evening to be pleasant, but found she couldn’t hold her tongue. She spun around and stalked back to her abysmally selfish daughter. “I am not a victim, but there are victims, real ones. How do you think those twenty-three families feel when they see you on television? And why is the story never about them?”

Ainsley shook her head. “I’m not going to apologize for what I did. I used the media to direct the narrative.”

Baffled by her daughter’s insistence that she’d done nothing wrong, Jessica asked, “What does that even mean?”

“I’m telling my story. Not letting somebody else do it.”

Jessica stared at her daughter with shock. In her attempt to shield Ainsley from Martin and the world at large, Jessica had obviously ended up spoiling her to the point of being rotten. Her daughter was so focused on herself that she apparently couldn’t comprehend or empathize with the pain and suffering of Martin’s victims or that of their families.

This would never do for her family’s legacy. The Milton’s might be wealthy, but they weren’t cruel or uncaring. Jessica knew she had no right, and she knew Ainsley might never forgive her, but she simply couldn’t let Ainsley’s statement about ‘her’ story go unanswered.

Jessica grasped Ainsley’s upper arm and towed her over to the dining room table.

“What the hell?” Ainsley said. She pulled to get her arm free, but she wasn’t full on struggling yet. Jessica knew that would be coming. Her daughter could be a real hellion when she felt trapped or threatened. Unfortunately for Ainsley, Jessica knew her too well to be caught off guard when that happened.

Once they were in front of the dining table, Ainsley slapped her purse down on it and said, “You can’t force me to stay here for dinner, Mother!” She tried once more to pull her right arm out of Jessica’s grip without success.

As quickly as possible, Jessica put her free hand on Ainsley’s right wrist in a death grip, and pulled it behind Ainsley’s back. She shoved Ainsley’s upper half down onto the table, and pulled her daughter’s wrist to the center of her back in what had to be a somewhat painful position.

“Ow! What the hell are you—”

Jessica leaned some of her weight onto Ainsley’s back with the hand holding her wrist, and used her free hand to slap her daughter’s backside.

“Mother!” Ainsley was apparently still too shocked to start truly fighting.

Jessica shoved Ainsley’s coat off to the side of her bottom, and then used her free hand to rifle through her daughter’s purse. She felt the wooden hairbrush that she knew would be in there, and pulled it out with a satisfied smirk. She slapped it smartly on the right cheek and then the left.

“Ah!” The hellion came out as Ainsley really started to try and get away, pushing at the table, and trying to kick her mother in the shin.

Jessica narrowly avoided the kick, and pulled Ainsley’s wrist up even higher on her back.

“OW!” Ainsley put both feet on the ground to try and push herself further onto the table to get her shoulder into a more natural position.

With a nod, Jessica brought down a flurry of harsh smacks, knowing she might not be able to hold Ainsley down for very long.

“How dare you!”

“How dare I?” Jessica asked, still smacking. “How dare you! How dare you do that interview after I told you not to? How dare you ignore the families that your father destroyed. How dare you ignore the pain and suffering your brother and I go through every time we see that man on the television. Don’t you have any empathy?”

“Stop this right now, Mother!” Ainsley yelled at the top of her lungs.

Jessica paused. “You’ve been spoiled rotten, Ainsley. I know I’m partially to blame, but this behavior can’t continue unchecked. I am ashamed of you for that interview you did with your father. If you want me to be proud of you, do something to help Martin’s victims.”

Breathing hard, Ainsley said through gritted teeth, “Are you finished?”

“I don’t know. Are you sorry?”

“I’m not sorry for doing my job!”

Jessica started spanking again.

Ainsley screamed in Anger, and then yelped in pain after several more smacks had landed. “Let me go!”

“No.”

It took several seconds, but soon Ainsley broke down into tears.

Jessica finally stopped and dropped the hairbrush back in Ainsley’s purse. She stood up straight and released Ainsley’s wrist.

Ainsley pulled her arm to the front of her body, but continued to lay on the table and cry.

“Not spoiled,” she said through her tears.

“Enough,” Jessica said gently. She rubbed Ainsley’s back.

Ainsley shrugged her off, stood up, and backed away. “I wasn’t spoiled! You and Malcolm excluded me!”

“What? We never—”

With tears still coursing down her face Ainsley pointed a finger at her mother. “It was always the two of you huddled up together whispering about Dad and shutting up the second I walked into the room! And every time I tried to ask about him or join in, you guys shushed me or told me to go play! The only time either one of you even bothered to notice me is when I was doing something of my own. So yeah, I’m selfish, but I’m not spoiled. And if I can’t empathize with Dad’s victims, maybe that’s because you never let me empathize with either of YOU!”

Feeling sick to her stomach, Jessica shook her head. “Ainsley sweetheart, we were protecting you, not excluding you.”

“Feels like the same damn thing from my perspective.” Ainsley wiped the tears off her face with the sleeves of her coat, grabbed her purse off the table and headed to the door.

“Ainsley, wait!” Jessica rushed after her. “Don’t leave! Please stay so we can talk this out.”

Ainsley walked through the front door without answering, and slammed it behind her.

Jessica stood there staring at the closed door for several seconds, not sure what to do. Eventually she went to her phone and called Malcolm, but of course he didn’t answer.

“Call me. Your sister stormed out of here just a few minutes ago. I need you to find her and bring her back with you for Christmas dinner so we can all talk.”

She hung up, walked back to the Christmas tree, and tried not to cry while thinking over the fact that she’d failed both of her children.

The End