Agent.

"Of course," he responded. "In that case, I'm concerned and I'm here." And whether or not Clint trained alone sometimes, Phil wasn't going to let him this time. Still, perhaps a little distance. For a few minutes. Phil checked out his own equipement and set up a target at a much more reasonable distance than Clints.

Phil blinked. Clasped his hands behind his back. Waited a beat. "I'm sorry, was that meant to be believable? You push people away like breathing. The fact that you aren't an ass about it doesn't mean it's not happening." And now... Now more than ever. "I'm going to ask you a genuine question and I'd like you to answer in kind. Would you prefer to speak with a phychologist? Or to put up with Natasha and I nagging? I would be happy to schedule you an appointment if that would be more comfortable for you."

He supresses the urge to snap 'both.' That wouldn't be helpful. "At least physically. And that question wasn't at all reassuring."

“There are physical rehabilitation programs that use horses. I can look into that to see if there’s one nearby that might work for you,” he suggested carefully. “If you enjoy working with animals, there’s no reason not to use that. And once you’re healed up enough, I’ll make sure you have some access to an archery range. Maybe I can get you a darts set in the meantime. I want you to practice the things that you’re good at and that make you happy.” Phil gave him a sympathetic smile. “But we’re going to try to find other things you’re good at as well.”

"I know, Clint." Phil slid his fingers into Clint's hair and held him even more securely, waiting to move until Clint's tears had petered out. "What do you want right now, sweetheart? Anything. You've more than earned a little reward, taking your punishment so well. I'm very proud of you."

Phil just rubbed Clint’s bared skin for several long moments, taking the time to try to find a center calm, then he picked the paddle back up and rested it against the top of Clint’s left cheek. “You don’t need to count, baby. Just take in the pain and let it force out the guilt. I’m correcting you. It’s no longer your responsibility to feel badly–just to do better, and I’ll help you with that too.” Then Phil started, hitting fairly hard, and making it worse by overlapping his strikes. He worked his way slowly down Clint’s left cheek and midway down his thigh, then rubbed and soothed the skin before starting on the other side.

“Thank you, sir,” Clint replied quietly, some relief washing over him at the fact that Phil tried to calm him before they started. It was nice to hand over the responsibility, too, at least a little bit. It was still going to suck, but Phil was doing this to help Clint better, not to make things worse. So, he relaxed as best he could, to focus on taking the hits as best he could, without doing more than whimpering. He didn’t want to cry, but he only lasted a little longer than Phil starting on his right side before he started quietly crying, not quite sobbing, but definitely more noticeable than he’d like. 

"That's good, sweetheart. Tears are release. That's exactly what I want from you right now," he praised, not slowing his strikes. When he'd finished and rubbed that side, he started again on the left, not going quite so far down his thigh as the first time, but not hesitating to lay extra stripes down over his sit spots. He didn't stop to rub again until he'd evened Clint out, then he kneaded both cheeks at once. "Twenty two more, sweetheart. You're more than halfway."

Phil just rubbed Clint's bared skin for several long moments, taking the time to try to find a center calm, then he picked the paddle back up and rested it against the top of Clint's left cheek. "You don't need to count, baby. Just take in the pain and let it force out the guilt. I'm correcting you. It's no longer your responsibility to feel badly--just to do better, and I'll help you with that too." Then Phil started, hitting fairly hard, and making it worse by overlapping his strikes. He worked his way slowly down Clint's left cheek and midway down his thigh, then rubbed and soothed the skin before starting on the other side.

Phil didn’t have the strength to return Clint to the ground. He held him even as he resumed work–even as his legs went numb beneath the weight. When it was finally late enough they could go, Phil carefully shifted him back down. Then he kissed the top of his head. “Alright. I’ll untie you, but you’re going to stay on your knees. Promise me?”

Phil cut the twine, gave Clint a minute to stretch his legs as much as he could without getting up, and then fixed his public, neutral face back in place. The walk to the parking garage was an ordeal, with plenty of staring and leering alike, and the drive was tense, but finally, Phil closed the door behind them. “Go to the bathroom if you need to, Clint. You may stand when you reach the tile, but not a moment before, and I want you back on your knees again before you reach the hallway. Fetch me your paddle on your way back.” The had a very specific paddle for punishment, and although he rarely had to use it, he was confident that Clint knew what he was referring to.

“Look at me, Clint.” Phil took the paddle, then tapped his chin up and met his eyes. “What you did was serious. You have never disobeyed me in such a dangerous way before. I can see that you’re miserable already, but you’re going to have a sore butt and well-used knees until I’m satisfied it won’t happen again. If you have some compelling reason for me to reduce the punishment I laid out for you earlier, now is the time.”

“I accept my punishment, sir,” he replied quietly, because he had absolutely no reason it should be lessened. If anything, arguing that would only make him feel worse. “How d'you want me, sir?” All disobedience had left him, and he wasn’t trying to be helpful to reduce his punishment, merely because stalling would make it harder for him to break away from the guilt when Phil decided this phase of the punishment was over.

"Alright, then. On my lap, please. I'm giving you sixty tonight," Clint could take that. It would be miserable, but he'd given him longer spankings, "then 20 every morning before your training." He set the paddle on the cushion beside him, then helped Clint with his clothes and kissed him before helping him down over his knee.

Phil didn’t have the strength to return Clint to the ground. He held him even as he resumed work–even as his legs went numb beneath the weight. When it was finally late enough they could go, Phil carefully shifted him back down. Then he kissed the top of his head. “Alright. I’ll untie you, but you’re going to stay on your knees. Promise me?”

Phil cut the twine, gave Clint a minute to stretch his legs as much as he could without getting up, and then fixed his public, neutral face back in place. The walk to the parking garage was an ordeal, with plenty of staring and leering alike, and the drive was tense, but finally, Phil closed the door behind them. “Go to the bathroom if you need to, Clint. You may stand when you reach the tile, but not a moment before, and I want you back on your knees again before you reach the hallway. Fetch me your paddle on your way back.” The had a very specific paddle for punishment, and although he rarely had to use it, he was confident that Clint knew what he was referring to.

"Look at me, Clint." Phil took the paddle, then tapped his chin up and met his eyes. "What you did was serious. You have never disobeyed me in such a dangerous way before. I can see that you're miserable already, but you're going to have a sore butt and well-used knees until I'm satisfied it won't happen again. If you have some compelling reason for me to reduce the punishment I laid out for you earlier, now is the time."

Phil didn’t have the strength to return Clint to the ground. He held him even as he resumed work–even as his legs went numb beneath the weight. When it was finally late enough they could go, Phil carefully shifted him back down. Then he kissed the top of his head. “Alright. I’ll untie you, but you’re going to stay on your knees. Promise me?”

Phil cut the twine, gave Clint a minute to stretch his legs as much as he could without getting up, and then fixed his public, neutral face back in place. The walk to the parking garage was an ordeal, with plenty of staring and leering alike, and the drive was tense, but finally, Phil closed the door behind them. "Go to the bathroom if you need to, Clint. You may stand when you reach the tile, but not a moment before, and I want you back on your knees again before you reach the hallway. Fetch me your paddle on your way back." The had a very specific paddle for punishment, and although he rarely had to use it, he was confident that Clint knew what he was referring to.

Phil didn't have the strength to return Clint to the ground. He held him even as he resumed work--even as his legs went numb beneath the weight. When it was finally late enough they could go, Phil carefully shifted him back down. Then he kissed the top of his head. "Alright. I'll untie you, but you're going to stay on your knees. Promise me?"

"I hope so too." Phil held him as tightly as he dared--tight enough that he was sure Clint could feel his heart, still beating faster and harder in his chest than it had any business doing. "In a week, when your punishment is over, you'll be fully forgiven. In the meantime, you are still deeply, deeply loved." He wound his fingers into Clint's hair again, in order to hold him even tighter, and kissed his temple. "We're just going to sit here now, for a little while."

Phil was feeling just as uncomfortable in his clothing, his throat dry and his hands shaking as he itched to just take what he needed. "You're sure? We don't-" the passage through which their food had been delivered clunked, and Phil opened it to find a bottle of lube, a box of condoms, and more water. Phil flushed with both anger and embarrassment. "Well. We do. Alright." He took off his clothing carefully, almost violent in his rigidity now, every fold made with barely-controlled force. "Am I allowed to bite you?"

"Thank you, Clint. That will be a problem for tomorrow, when I'm thinking a little more clearly." They would have to delay until at least after Clint's punishment, then he'd do his best to give Clint an opportunity to prove they didn't need to do it after all. "If you can show me it isn't necessary, we won't do it. I'd rather almost any other way, sweetheart." Phil went back to stroking Clint's cheeks for a moment, then tugged him up and into his lap and wrapped his arms tightly around him. "I love you. I'll protect you no matter the cost. You know that, baby?"