toby/molly spanking

"Geez, did you really have to come this early?" I muttered, stepping aside so Toby could pass.  

He was still dressed in workout clothes, drenched in sweat, adidas duffle bag over his shoulder.  "Busy day, and I'm not sure when a more convenient time would be for you..." There was a hint of sarcasm with the serious look he gave me and I felt my tummy twist into knots a little.  

"Thanks for coming back... I know, um, I should've talked to you yesterday."

"Take a nap while I shower," he said, then excused himself. 

I laid in bed, mind was racing with what he might do —  it’d not been that long since he'd spanked me.  Even though Adam was my official spanker, at the moment Toby just seemed to be the right person to call.  He'd understand what I needed better.  Ugh, even if I didn’t really want it.

It didn't take him much time to shower, and he suspected that I wouldn't be sleeping.  I heard the clatter of my beaded door before his head poked in to see if I was awake.  His hair was wet and spiked in a million different directions — the sexy messy look, without even trying.  He was dressed in a tight black T-shirt and relaxed jeans, still barefoot.

He sat on my bed next to me, turning on a little compassion.  "What's going on?"

I sat up leaning against the wall, knees to my chest.  It was hard being on the other side of the therapist chair nowadays.  And Toby knew the look to give me that would get me to open up — eyebrows slightly raised in curiosity, not too somber, nor too joyful.  

I sheepishly gulped and twiddled my thumbs.  "Since... you know... everything with Violet... I've been not doing such a great job at.... um... keeping up with my own stuff."

He didn't say anything at first, flat expression, urging me to continue.  It wasn't exactly an inviting gaze.  In fact, it made me fidget in my seat and look away from him, unable to speak.  "What haven't you been keeping up with?"

Chewing on my lower lip I threw my shoulders up in a shrug.  "I dunno... like... work...."  I glanced up at him.  "I got really behind on paperwork..."  

Finally, he sighed and shook his head, sitting up straight.  "Molly, I understand you're nervous, but at this rate, we'll be here all day.  Please make this easier on us both and just tell me what's up.  If you wanted to do all this stalling, you should've taken me up on the offer last night.  Today we don't have time for games."

Tears welled in my eyes but I took a deep breath to keep them in a few seconds longer.

"I think since she moved in, I've been a little triggered.  Back in the day we used to party really hard together, you know, my college days."

"Yeah, I remember."  

There was a long pause as I wondered what to say next.  Toby notoriously took his role as spanker seriously... but I was getting cold feet.  "I'm feeding off her depressive energy, sinking into bad habits again, doing things I'm ashamed of."  I stared at my thumbs, chewing on my lower lip.  His silence weighed down on me, classic therapy technique, succeeding at breaking me.  "You know... the usual.  Smoking more than normal..."  A voice in my mind told me to leave it at that — Toby doesn't need to know more, or it'll jeopardize our friendship.  Another part of me knew I had to tell him everything.  "I've been fucking off at the clinic... I skipped a day of work for no reason and then took my pen with me to the office... I mean, I didn't smoke much, and never right before seeing a client... I made sure to give myself time..."

"Don't make excuses for my benefit."  His terse remark caused my head to lift.  Now his gaze was less curious and more serious, slightly disappointed.  

"I don't want you to think that I'm going to fuck up the opportunity you gave me at your office..."

"If you were really worried about that, someone else would be here right now."

I nodded. He was right — I trusted that he wouldn’t treat me differently at work, especially since he stuck by the ethic that the ends can justify the means. But at the same time, Toby was the only person who would be able to psychologically punish me in the way I needed.  “The other day I took a few hits off my pen and like two minutes later my supervisor came in… I was so scared that he could’ve caught me…”

“Does Adam know about this?”

“No… he’s going through so much with the divorce and emotions about all the drama.”  Vic had been the only person I’d told so far, ashamed to admit my misdeed to anyone else.

“Are you blaming yourself?”

“Yeah… I wish the affair hadn’t happened.  It’s my fault they’re broken up.” I paused, hoping Toby would fill the silence but he knew there was more I needed to say. “And then you know the saying, once a cheater always a cheater. Am I stupid for being with him? Is he going to do the same to me?”

“So you’re dealing with these fears of abandonment on top of Violet’s bad energy, and I’m sure seeing her out of control after a break up doesn’t help your anxiety.”

“Exactly.”

“Is there anything else troubling you?”

I considered his question for a moment, looking around in my mind for clues. Life for me really wasn’t all that bad — no real situations were going on besides feeling helpless with Violet and Adam. “I’m just mad at myself. If I can’t handle this shit at my easy, lower-paid job, how am I going to manage working full time in the city? Rich parents won’t spend so much money for me, especially if I can’t give 100% effort because I’m too depressed.”

He sat up straight and shook his head, ready to argue. “It’s okay to be angry with yourself, but depression isn’t the problem, your behavior is. I can guarantee that you won’t have many patients, wealthy or otherwise, if you continue skipping work and getting high before sessions.”

I hung my head again, unable to face him or anyone else for that matter. 

"What happened last time you went through a depression like this and started skipping work?"

Now I felt even smaller.  "I was asked to resign from my job."

"What were the effects of that?"

"Burnt a bridge, it's like I was fired."

"You were fired, regardless of what they call it.  Sit with that for a moment."

The stillness in the room was such that I could feel my heart thumping against my chest.  A knot formed in my throat, threatening to make me cry at any moment.  "But technically I wasn't."

"What else happened after you were fired?"

Biting on my lower lip, I looked at him pathetically, not knowing how to answer.  

"Come on, think back.  You and I spent a lot of time together during that time."

My mind wandered to those days with Toby — details were hard to recall, but I remembered him being there for me a lot, supporting me.  "Losing my job made the depression worse.  I hated myself a lot.  Finding work was a chore... I had to take the first offer at a subpar place because otherwise I couldn't pay rent.  And then building a caseload took forever.  Thank goodness for you and Vic... I wouldn't have survived."

"If you're ready to start transitioning to full time in the city, then just do it.  Don't jeopardize your career by burning another bridge and having to go through what you did before."

"Obviously I wasn't thinking about it like that when I did it though..."

Toby's eyes narrowed at me as he stood.  "That's why we're having this conversation, so you won't forget about it next time.  I don't care how much negative energy you're getting from Violet, create your own positive vibes or whatever."

My eyes rolled.  "I can see why you don't specialize in working with teens..."

"Oh?  I'll show you what I do specialize in.  Stand up."  

"I don't really need to see your specialties..."  But I was already pushing myself up from the bed, now on my feet before him.  

“It’s called behavior modification.  We identify the behavior that needs to be changed — in this instance, I believe it’s cannabis dependency.”

“I’m not dependent though.”

“Wait,” he said, holding up his hand to stop me from speaking.  “It’s not time to argue yet.”  He then reached for my pajamas and jerked them down to my knees, my panties following shortly thereafter.  My shirt was so short that it didn’t cover my creamy bottom… it barely grazed my belly button.  I subconsciously reached down to cover myself, blushing when I saw Toby notice my discomfort.  “Hands on your head, little girl.  Feel the embarrassment so that it will influence your future behavior.”  

I did as told, chewing on my lower lip as I placed trembling fingers on the part in my hair.  My face felt heated and I squirmed in place, noticeably uncomfortable.

“Getting high before and during work is unacceptable, Molly Riana Collins,” Toby scolded as he paced around me.  “And frankly, I’m disappointed.  Your career means a lot to you, and you’re willing to fuck it up over something that’s ‘not an addiction’.”  He paused, positioning himself at my side and taking a hold of my upper arm.

Then I felt a cool, wooden implement on my bottom.  

"What's that?" I asked, struggling to look back, but felt its impact against my butt and instantly yelped in surprise. 

"It's what happens to errant little girls who start going back down a dangerous path."  The wood splatted against my plump bottom again and I shrieked realizing it was the bathbrush, one of my most hated implements.  

"Wait Toby nooooo... don't use that!  I thought you'd use the belt or somethingggg..."  All the tears I'd been holding back now started streaming down my face as I danced in place, trying to keep my hands on my head as swats rained against my tender backside.

"You were saying earlier that you don't have a cannabis dependency?  Now I'm ready to hear your arguments," he said almost tauntingly, smacking me after every few words to drive his point home.

"OW!  I just don't!" I cried.

"Then what do you call smoking at work?  You're in the healthcare industry with a master's degree, not a teenager at Denny’s.  If your supervisor had caught you, what would have happened?"  

More tears streamed down my face at his words, which almost hurt more than the fucking bathbrush.  

"Not sure?  Well, I’ll tell you.  Fired.  Lost your license.  Unable to practice as a therapist.  You've got depression, I get it, but take control over it.  And get real medication if you need it."

"Weed is my medicine."

He stopped spanking me for a moment to look in my eyes.  "That's why you called me instead of the others, because you know I won't fall for that bullshit excuse.  There's zero scientific evidence to support that theory."  The bathbrush fell against my bottom again.

"But it really does help!" 

The swats became harder and quicker now, alternating between cheeks and sit spots, with the occasional swat to my thigh.  “I believe that you believe it helps.  I know the placebo effect very well.  However, if you’re caught smoking at work, the consequences are severe enough that I want to encourage you to find another medicine.”  I was jumping all over the place, having a difficult time keeping my hands out of the way but succeeded well enough when the spanking came to a halt.

My pants and panties were now bunched at my feet, backside throbbing.  I hoped it was over but somehow seemed too easy, so I just wiped my eyes, crying but trying to keep a little dignity.

Through my tears I saw Toby now unbuckling his brown leather belt, then he slid it through the loops of his jeans.  "Lean over the ottoman, keep your legs straight, butt up."

I obeyed, jelly legs hobbling to the center of the room.  When in position, my pathetic green eyes glanced up at Toby.  Underneath his tough demeanor was a hint of concern for me, which was part of the reason I’d wanted to have this conversation with him instead of Gabe or Izaak.  They all cared, but Toby’s was more selfless, empathetic.  

“Earlier I discussed the spanko community idea with Izaak and Chloe, and they are open to trying.  I’m sure Gabe and Violet will agree.”  The thick leather rested against my tender skin.  I wanted to comment, but Toby lashed the belt down against me, prompting a shriek instead.  “If you behave like this when we’re having regular meetings, you would also receive the punishment in front of everyone.”

The belt cracked down again, this time on my sit spots, and I howled.  Then, catching my breath, I said, “Wait… I don’t want to be spanked in front of everyone!  This is supposed to be for them, not me.  I’m a moderator or whatever.”  

A third blow was delivered.  “You are a mentor to the others and must have higher standards for yourself.”

“But Toby…” I began, breaking off into a sob.  The idea of all my friends knowing what I’d been up to with work was really humiliating, and I instantly understood why Violet’s intervention had been so effective.

Instead of continuing to speak, he focused on the belting.  **idk i can write more here later**

Tears still flowing, Toby stood in front of me, demanding I look at him.  His hazel eyes were kind yet authoritative.  Belt still in hand as if ready to strike again if necessary.  Then he stooped down to my level and reached for my shoulder.  “You have to find a way to cope better with other people’s bullshit.  I respect you as a friend and a professional… your ability to empathize and connect with people.  Put up boundaries, or all of your boundaries will be lost.  Public spankings aren’t your thing.  It would be very effective for behavior modification.”

My tummy jumped at that statement, fearful of the idea.  “It won’t get to that,” I promised.

He stood again and gave me a final ten swats on the thighs for not getting this over with last night, then put the belt back on.  He helped me to my feet and embraced me in a warm hug as I rubbed my sore bottom.