Thankfully, Mitch understood. Taking my hand, he guided me out of the kitchen. We passed Merry and Nan in the living room. They said nothing and averted their eyes as we walked past them and up the stairs.
Mitch paused outside the door to his room, which was shut, and frowned, before continuing down the hall to my room. When we reached it, he let go of my hand and waited for me to open it, like a gentleman. I wondered what would happen if I just ran in and shut it in his face. Somehow, I didn’t think that would help my situation.
With my heart in my stomach, I threw the door open and let him guide me in. He sat on the bed and pulled me down to sit beside him.
I was both intrigued and terrified. Staring at the wall, I tried to remember the sequence of events, but the whole thing left me completely dazed, forgetting to breathe.
Mitch must have seen my distress. He cupped my face with his hands and forced me to meet his eyes.
“Hey, are you okay?” His voice was soft and comforting, filled with a concern I knew was genuine.
I nodded slowly, gathering my bearings as I forced myself to concentrate on the sparkle in his green-blue eyes. “I just...I’m not quite sure how any of that happened.”
Mitch just nodded, holding back a chuckle. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Brody tends to have that effect on people.”
I shook my head. “It’s not just Brody. It’s you, as much as him, if not more so. I-I’ve never done anything like that before,” I admitted. “And trust me, I’m no angel.”
“It’s Brody,” Mitch assured me with ease. “Sometimes, I swear that he’s some sort of insane sex warlock.”
There it was again. I took the opening, desperate to distract his attention from the real reason we came up here.
“So, you guys…you’re in a relationship, like with each other?”
To my surprise, Mitch shook his head vehemently. “No, not for years. And even then, it was just superficial. Born of convenience. We are friends, first. But Brody knows what he can do to me, and he likes doing it.” He threw back his head and laughed. “He’s been threatening me for weeks. Guess he saw an opportunity where I was unlikely to say no and took it.”
“That doesn’t bother you?” I asked, now more concerned for Mitch than for myself.
“No. I knew exactly what I was doing when I walked over to him. The truth is Brody is good for me. I’m an okay Dom, myself, but I’m an even better one when I have someone to be accountable to. I don’t know why it works that way, it just does.”
I stopped listening when I heard the word Dom. “D-Dom? You’re a Dom? Like whips and chains, and paddles and handcuffs? That kind of Dom?”
“Sure, if that’s your jam. It really depends on who I am domming. You seem more the cuddles and kisses and wooden spoon type, in my personal opinion.”
I steeled myself with a deep breath. It was a good answer, save the part about the wooden spoon, anyway, but could I really trust it? In my experience, the answer was no. Really, what did I know about Mitch, anyway? Other than that he was hotter than fuck, grew up at the ranch, and apparently, had an on again off again bisexual relationship with his even hotter roommate.
So, grew up on the ranch and had good taste in men. It wasn’t a lot to go on. I sighed, feeling the familiar twinge of regret. I hadn’t even been here twenty-four hours, and what had I gotten myself into?
“I need to go.” I stood and stared blankly at him. What did one say to a near stranger who had just offered to be your Daddy and then made you suck him off while he sucked off someone else? And one who fully planned to bend you over his knee and spank you for the first time in your entire life? “Bye.” That’s what I settled on before all but running to the bathroom.
I locked the door behind me. Warm tears were already running down my face. I wiped them quickly, frustrated at the raging emotions coursing through my body. Not to mention the raging horniness.
I could hear Mitch standing outside the bathroom door. Great. I was captive in my own bathroom. I needed a shower. Badly. I smelled like sweat and sex. But not even sex. Just cum, and arousal.
Stray tears were still escaping down my cheeks at random intervals when I heard the soft knock on the door. I seriously considered starting the shower and pretending I hadn’t heard it, but curiosity got the better of me.
“What do you want?” I called through the door.
To my surprise, he appeared genuinely shocked and hurt. “To check on you.”
“I’m fine, and no need. You can check your guilty conscience at the door. No need to pretend to care now, just for my benefit.”
I saw the handle jiggle and twist, and I stood there gaping when he pushed it open, holding a credit card in his hand triumphantly.
I tried to shut the door on him, but he caught it and pushed it back open, stopping its path with the toe of his boot. His eyebrows furrowed together and his scowl matched my own. “Excuse me?” he questioned sternly.
There was enough dominance in those two words to flip my stomach and have my pussy leaking with want.
“Might I remind you that you are the one who ran out on me, little girl?”
His shoulder wedged between the lip of the door and the wall, and he pushed past me into the room.
“You can drop the attitude now.”
“Like hell,” I yelled, stepping closer to him until we were standing toe to toe.
“Who the hell do you think you are to barge in here and start telling me what to do?”
His eyebrow quirked upwards, and he shook his head. “Not too long ago, you were about to admit how much you needed a Daddy. Shortly after that, your precious pouty lips were wrapped around my cock. I figured we were heading in a certain direction.” His voice was a growl.
“Hmph.” I stepped closer, jutting out my chest, and leaning in, until we were very nearly nose to nose. “A blow job doesn’t mean anything. Don’t fool yourself. It’s barely sex, and it certainly doesn’t give you the right to barge in here and start making decrees.”
“You know, you have a very naughty little mouth,” Mitch growled. “But that’s exactly why we’re up here, isn’t it?”
I shrugged. “ If you don’t like the way I talk, get the fuck out of my room, how’s that?”
“That’s quite enough, little girl.” His voice, and his entire body, screamed of danger. He looked more domineering than I would have imagined possible.
But it didn’t matter. I wasn’t backing down. I was hurt and angry and licking my wounds. And I was horny as hell, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Get. Out.”
He stepped back, and I immediately felt bereft. I liked the battle. I wanted to win, of course, but I didn’t want it to be that easy. I also wanted to see how far I could push him.
Was he all talk, or was there a man of action hiding behind his boyish charm and looks?
“Do you really want to find out?” His question threw me, until I realized belatedly I had voiced my thoughts out loud. Shit. Of course.
I did. I really wanted to find out. Not that I would admit it to him. At least, not in so many words. “Fuck off.”
If he really was as dominant as he was acting, I figured that would do it.
His laughing eyes darkened into a glower, and his jaw hardened as he advanced towards me. Unfortunately, he didn’t have far to go, and I wasn’t fast enough to stave him off.
Before I could question my sanity, a thick arm caught me around the waist. I struggled, but he was too strong. Within less than a minute, he plopped down onto my bed and pulled me face down across his lap, just like he threatened earlier.
I assumed it would be an easy position to get out of, but his arm stayed wrapped tightly around my waist. I gave an oomph of surprise and tried to kick. His only response was to scissor his legs, bringing one of his down firmly on top of both of mine. Crap. I was pinned.
“Not feeling so sassy now, are you?”
“Unhand me, you ogre!” I shrieked loudly. There was no way I would be a
ble to free myself from his hold, but I figured that maybe if I screamed loudly enough, someone would come running and save me from this madness.
“You know,” Mitch mused, resting one hand atop my fluff covered bottom. “All I have wanted to do all day is talk, but somehow, you keep spurring me into action.”
“Oh, that’s your game? Blame the innocent victim? I see how it is. Good to know at least I have learned a few things about your kind over the years. I’ve had you pegged since this morning.” I figured it was worth a try to attempt to keep him talking. Maybe if I distracted him with a personal attack on his character, he’d forget what he was intending to do, and his hand would stay right where it was. At rest. I have to admit, it felt kind of good, anyway.
“My kind?” he asked, taking the bait. I cheered inwardly.
“Yeah, you know. Pretty boy, smart enough to get by, but probably went to college on a football scholarship and had the math club on payroll doing your homework for you. You look innocent enough, but it’s just a guise for all the women whose hearts you eventually break without a second thought. At first glance, you seem friendly. Caring, easy to talk to, but you are really just a selfish, chauvinistic pig.”
“Oh, is that so? Wow, you really do have me pegged, don’t you?” His grip around my waist tightened, and I grimaced. In hindsight, this probably wasn’t the best time to start a fight.
“Of course, you did make one small error in your assumptions.” His hand left its resting place, and I gasped when the back of my short robe was flipped up to reveal my panty covered behind.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I was full of bravado, the exact opposite of how I really felt.
“Everything.” His hand lifted and came crashing down across the center of my backside with enough force to take my breath away. “I’ve never played football; I don’t even watch it. I’m not much for sports at all, unless you count barrel racing. I pulled a 4.0 my last three years of high school, and I graduated magna cum laude from MIT. I can count the number of female conquests, as you put it, on one hand, and I can’t prove it, but I assure you, I am not selfish. I do, however, have a chauvinist streak, if, by that, you mean I’m inclined to taking naughty sassy women across my knee and teaching them the error of their ways. If that counts as chauvinistic, then lock me up and throw away the key. Guilty as charged.”
His hand came down again, but I was prepared for it this time, and I forced myself not to react. “What about the first year of high school?”
I could feel the heavy shrug and hear the deep sigh that wracked his chest. “That was before I came here.”
“Oh.” I knew enough to know there was a lot more to the story than that. I also knew enough to know now wasn’t the time to ask the questions burning in my brain. “So, fine, I was wrong about a few minor things. Not playing football and getting good grades doesn’t qualify you for sainthood, you know.”
“I’m aware. And I certainly never claimed to be any kind of saint. But that’s quite enough about me. Let’s talk about you.”
“What about me?” I grumbled.
“Let’s start with the fact that nobody ever taught you how to watch your mouth, how to deal with frustration, or how to act like a lady.”
“Oh, and what? You’re volunteering to be the one to impart those lessons?”
His voice lowered, and his hand rubbed circles on my lower back.
“Earlier, you were about to say I could be your Daddy,” he whispered thickly, sending a shiver down my spine.
“The caffeine hadn’t reached my brain yet.”
“Oh, okay. If that’s the case, then, I wouldn’t want to misread you and force you to experience something you don’t want.”
The feeling of bereavement hit me again, like a knife through the heart. I wanted everything he was offering, but I didn’t want to want it. I wanted him to leave me no choice in the matter, but I knew I would resent him later if he did. If I gave consent, then the only one I would resent later would be myself, and that was a feeling I was used to.
“I don’t know if I want a Daddy,” I whispered, struggling into a sitting position. Mitch let me up, and I sat next to him on the bed.
“Oh, I think you do know. But you don’t trust yourself. You came here with a plan, having sworn off men for a while, all tough as nails, and telling yourself you don’t need anyone.”
I nodded. The way he was able to look at me and read me the way he did was unnerving.
“It’s a noble plan. I’m sure it wasn’t without benefits. But make no mistake, little one, you can trust me. And if you let me show you what you’ve been missing, I promise you, you won’t regret it. Discipline can help you gain self-respect, and help you learn to love yourself. It doesn’t have to hinder you.”
I’m not sure why, but I instinctively believed him and knew what he said was true. Or maybe I just wanted his hand back on my ass, to see what all the fuss was really about.
I sat in silence, until he nudged me. “So, what’s it going to be, little one?”
I shook my head. “I’m not ready to agree to anything,” I admitted. “But if you are really going to insist on spanking me, can you just get it over with, already?”
No sooner were the words out of my mouth, I was face down over his lap again. This time, he didn’t trap me, and I didn’t try to get up.
I felt the whoosh of air as he drew his hand back to strike, and I took a deep breath to fortify myself. This was it. The moment of truth.
Mitch
Well, shit. Everything that came out of her mouth was a big red warning flag waving in front of my face telling me to go slow. But her cute little ass laying over my lap told a different story entirely. When she gave a little wiggle, I almost came undone.
Brody’s voice came into my head, unbidden. Begin as you intend to finish.
I blew out a short breath. Was it good advice? I wasn’t certain. But I knew how I wanted to finish. As her Daddy.
Focused on my end game, I raised my hand, wincing when it landed with a resounding crack that seemed to echo in the small room. It had been a long time since I had spanked a woman.
Turns out, it’s like riding a bike. I quickly settled into a rhythm, creating a tempo of smacks as I found my groove. Left, right, center. Repeat. Her wiggles of anticipation quickly turned into full-fledged squirms of desperation that soon gave way to shrieks of pain.
“Daddies do not let little girls speak in such a manner. Curse words are not acceptable in this house, and I do not want to hear such language from your pretty little mouth again,” I lectured, punctuating my words with a swat or two, every so often.
Her only answer, thus far, was a forlorn wail. I took that to be a good sign and continued my onslaught with a renewed vigor. “Naughty language will result in a red, hot bottom, every time.”
“B-b-but…” Her protests were weak, muffled under the sound of my hand wreaking havoc on her backside. “I cuss all the time! You can’t spank me every time! I’ll never sit again. My ass will literally fall off! I’ll die!”
“Your what will fall off?” I asked, clearing my throat sternly, waiting for her blunder to sink in. Grabbing her panties into a bunch, I wedged the thin fabric between her cheeks, revealing her bare skin while protecting her modesty.
“See!” she wailed. “I can’t stop cussing. It’s freaking impossible!”
“And yet you managed to control yourself just then,” I countered. “See, you’re learning already.”
Her skin was already a mottled pink, I noted as the first slap against the bare skin had the luscious flesh bouncing under my ministrations. It really was a lovely sight, and my cock swelled, growing harder each time my hand came in contact with the fleshy skin of her lower buttocks.
“Yeah, well, it’s easy when I am currently over your knee for that exact reason! But what about when I’m not?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” I said with a chuckle. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that. I fully intend to leave a las
ting impression.”
“Eeep!” she squeaked in response. It was adorable, and my heart swelled in response. What was it about that cute little sound and this pretty pink ass that had me ready to lay down my life to cherish and protect her at all costs?
I fell into silence, focusing my assault on her sit spots, the perfect little curve of untouched skin between her bottom and thighs.
“I want you to promise me, little one, that you are going to try harder to control that pretty little mouth of yours. I want to hear that you understand what the consequence will be, if you don’t.”
“I understand, okay! I get it, I do! Please stop! I’m done!” The lilt in her voice told me that her sass had given way to tears and, ultimately, acceptance.
“Not so fast, little one. You don’t control when a spanking is over. I do. Tell me what is going to happen, if I hear you cussing.”
As expected, this edict was met with dead silence. It was one thing to know the answer; it was another thing to speak the words out loud, a fact I knew far too well. I also knew that is what made it important—and effective.
“Say it, baby girl. Tell me what will happen, if I hear you cussing again.”
“I can’t. Please don’t make me say it.” The words were broken, spoken between sobs, and I almost pitied her.
“You need to,” I insisted, pausing my onslaught to rub slow circles on her throbbing hot flesh. “It helps the lesson sink in to speak the words. It trains your brain, so to speak. I know it’s hard, but I’m really doing you a favor by making you do this.”
She shook her head emphatically, but the crying slowed. I lifted my hand and began fresh. “I’m not going to stop until you obey. Say, ‘little girls who cuss get long hard spankings on their bare bottoms’.”
She shook her head again, and I continued, speaking the sentence as I spanked. “Little. Girls. Who. Cuss. Get. Long. Hard. Spankings. On. Their. Bare. Bottoms. Say it, and we can be done.”
Her back heaved as she drew in a long fortifying breath, and I paused, waiting. The words came out in a rush, mushed together in a single breath so that they were almost unrecognizable. I let my hand fall again, twice more.
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