Marc was so relieved that she wasn't going to leave him to his fate that he almost smiled in gratitude, but then he remembered that she was probably the sole reason he was in this position to begin with. And now she was finally getting a look at all the good stuff he'd been keeping from her. Maybe relief was premature.
"And are you willing to have us release him in your custody? It'd be a temporary thing -- you could act as his parole officer -- we're pretty short-staffed here." Marc's heart sank.
"And what would that involve?" she asked. "I really don't have time if it's going to be a lot of bother. Maybe you should just process him in the regular way."
But that was worse! "Oh, no, please," he heard himself saying. "I won't be a bother. Please...."
She raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you put it that way -- OK. Let's try it for... a week, how's that?"
"Well, I guess that seems long enough. But that means you're gonna have to finish the spanking - I haven't got time now."
"No problem. I'll do it once a day -- that should be just about right. After all, I'm just a woman and just one spanking from me couldn't possible be enough."
The chief grinned and agreed. He stood up -- pulling Marc to his feet.
Norma felt a flood of heat at the sight of the gorgeous bareass stud standing in front of her. He was hers for now and he knew it. He was too embarrassed to meet her eyes.
"But I've got a few ground rules, young man. I can't be responsible for you if I don't know where you are. So, for the next week, you'll be staying in my spare room, where I can keep an eye on you. If you give me any trouble -- any trouble at all -- I'll punish you myself. You'll keep me informed of where you are at all times, and I will have the final say as to what you can do. Clear?"
Marc was appalled -- she was gonna own his ass for a whole week. But -- thinking about the alternative -- he quickly nodded.
She handed him a pair of gym shorts she'd brought for him and he quickly put them on. He followed her, half naked, out to her car and they drove to his apartment, where he packed a light suitcase with some basics. He started to slip into some jeans -- he was so sick of being half-naked all the time. But she stopped him with a sharp "No!"
He started to rebel, but then he saw the look on her face and backed off.
"You'll wear what I tell you to, boy."
He hung his head gave in. The thought of what the holding cell might be like was still pretty vivid.
She allowed him nothing but some shorts and T-shirts. No underwear, no socks or shoes. For now, she told him to stick to the shorts -- they'd see later about T-shirts.
