The Bar

33. Healing

Clara had fallen asleep on the car ride home. While Flint drove, he couldnt help but think of Clara's family. She never mentioned a sister. Were they close? Was she older? Younger? A twin? Was she being abused like Clara? The questions ran through Flint's mind as he drove closer to home.

Slowly, he pulled into his driveway, parkes then turned off the engine and exites the car. He made his way to Clara's side, pulling the sleeping girl into his arms. His arm surged in pain but he ignored it as the girl lulled back into a deep slumber.

He kicked the car door closed, sadly a little too hard. The slam of the car door awoke Clara. Her eyes slowly moves open, blinking a couple times to process her surroundings. She felt the moves of Flint adjusting her into his arms as he moved through the gate to the courtyard.

"Flint," she groggily says.

"Go back to sleep, baby, I got you," he whispers calmingly.

"Put me down...your arm," she says moving her legs to slip away from him. Her attempts to move away backfire. She rolls over as if rolling out of bed, only her body slams onto the concrete path.

"Dammit Clara!" Flint scolds kneeling to her aid. He turns her over and she groggily turns over on her back, a little cut on ber forehead has Flint grinding his teeth.

"I got it," she says pushing herself up and onto her feet.
"Did I hurt you?" She says worriedly looking at his shoulder.

"You're the one who just fell onto the concrete! Get inside," he seethed pointing at the front door.

Clara listens and goes inside. She turns to the staircase, desperately wanting to go to bed. On the third step of the staircase, she stubles foreward. Flint's arm wraps around her waist and pulls her upright and off the ground. With one arm the girl rests on Flint's hip as he pulls her up the staircase.

"I can walk," she says groggily, sounding drunk.

"Im sure you can, after falling on your face a couple times," he says with a chuckle.

Once in the bedroom, Flint helps Clara into bed. He takes off her shoes and socks and tosses them aside. He quickly examines in the cut on her forehead, no blood just a small cut. He is satisfied that it will be fine. Slowly me sits on the edge beside her. Flint delicately trails his fingers to the hem of her shirt.

"Im too tired," she groans.

"I'm just trying to make you comfortable so you can sleep. I dont always think about sex."

She raises an eyebrow with dibelief.

"Okay, I do when it comes to you, but right now, you need some rest," he says laughingly.

"Says the man who was in a bar fight, and got stabbed just a few hours ago."

"Says the man who will bend you over his knee if you keep being a smart ass," he corrects her.

"I should be a smart ass more often." Clara smiles, imagining Flint slapping her behind with enough force to make her moan out his name repeatedly.

"Clara, don't."

"Dont what? Be a smartass or think about you spanking me? Because I'm doing both right now," she laughs.

He cant help but smile as she licks her lips seductively.

"I will get my belt, dont tempt me."

She smiles.

"Don't forget the condoms either," she continues to laugh.

"Oh, you think this is funny?"

"I thought that was obvious."

That was it. She needed to know who was in charge. Who had the say in what goes on. Who was the boss.

He grabs her hips and flips her over. He take her shorts off in one swift swoop, followed by her black cotton underwear. He tosses the material aside and he moves his hand firmly against her ass in one swift smack. She flinches and takes in a deep breath.

Another smack causes her to yelp. The sting getting more intense. He smacks her ass again, this time harder. She screams out. He realizes he went a little too hard as the redness of her ass is beyond normal, yet she moans in approval. He caresses the cheek, slowly allowing the sting to descend, then he does it again, even harder. A few tears slip down her cheeks. She closes her eyes tightly and takes the next smack.
Flint leans over her to kiss her but stops when he sees the tears.
"Clara? Baby whats wrong?" He asks worriedly turning her around. She winces at the pain as her ass rubs against the blanket. He cups her face, his thumbs run along her cheeks to wipe the tears.

"I was too hard, wasn't I?" He says with a sigh. Ashsamed of not knowing his own strength. She swallows hard.

"A little..."

"A little? If your crying, then I was too hard, way too hard. Shit! Why didn't you tell me to stop?"

"I-I...um...I didn't know I could..."

He frowns completely and feels sorrow wash over him like a wave. Her words hit him hard, so hard that at first he didnt believe her words.

"What you mean you didnt know? You can always tell me to stop, always!..have you ever wanted to stop when we-"

"No! Thats not what I meant. I meant...during this, when you spank me, I didnt know I could tell you to stop..."

"You can always tell me to stop. I know I get carried away sometimes. But no matter what, if you say no, I will stop." His words are stern. He looks deeply into her eyes for approval, acceptance. She bites her lip. He peers over her more, wanting a reply. After another moment of silence she simply nods.

"Okay," she mumbles.

"Okay," he replies. He leans down, kisses her softly with love and care.

"Turn over, I'll take care of you," he whispers. She swallows hard again and takes in a deep breath.

She does as she is told and turns over.
She hugs a pillow that is beneath her, she rests her head, so tired from the days events. Suddenly the sting of her ass is met with a cold softness that melts into her. Her skin softens and becomes cool with the lotion applied by Flint. After the ointment dissapears into her skin, he pulls up her shirt. She lean up and allows him to pull the shirt off. He unclips her bra and tosses her remaining clothes on the floor.

He pushes her back down, she hugs the pillow again, lulling back into a deep slumber. As her breathing calms in her sleep. Flint rubs in some lotion on her back. Her skin becoming more and more soft. Afterwards he puts the lotion back in the bathroom, washes his hands to get the flower scent off of his skin, he never liked the residue lotion left on his hands. He turned back to the room and began stripping down until he was just as naked and she was.

He curled up beside her, pulling her to lay beside him, her back against his front. Flint pulls the blanket over them and wraps his arms around her, nuzzling into her soft hair.

Flint thought it through. She had spent her entire life being victim to abuse, far worse than any one he had met or heard of. She was raised in it, so much so that she no longer refused the hits that came. She did not understand that it wasnt normal, she didn't understand that people around her probably noticed and felt sorry. She probably didnt understand that everything that happened to her was not acceptable, not okay, not for the reasons she was told. Retribution? It was a means for her father to take out his anger. It was a means for him to maintain control. It was a way for his friends to take advantage of a young girl.

She had a long road of recovery and he knew that he was going to be with her through all of it. He would hold her through her cries, through her nightmares, through her coping. He would be there, by her side, through all of it.