Sir’s gone and I don’t even wanna go home because he won’t be there.
We got into a little argument before he left because I get all crazy about travel plans and he is a little more lax about being on time for his bus out of here. I freaked out because we were running late and he was kind of chugging along.
He made it, but I’m all sad our last hour together was stressful. Especially since it’ll be six weeks until I see him again.
Sigh.
Because, in the end, sneaking out is never worth it.
And the very, very worst is when Daddy makes her wait.
It’s really so easy to confuse indignation for repentance in a brat.
Such a surly expression. Maybe I should leave you blindfolded, gagged, and on the hardwood floor next time.
“We’re either doing it now in the back or later in front of your friends.”
I pouted. I dragged my feet. I whined softly enough that people wouldn’t hear.
Away from my friends, Craftsmate sat down and patted his lap. I shook my head and tried not to grin when he pulled me over his knee and hiked my dress up.
“You’re going to count, all the way up to twenty-two,” he said and his hand collided with my ass.
I could hear my friends laughing a little ways away and hoped no one would hear the noise and wander inside. I grabbed onto the chair and gasped, attempting to keep my voice low.
“One.”
Easing out the Kinks, Part One
Penthouse picked me up a little before lunch today. I was a bit nervous about the whole day after some issues of communication and feelings, but I was happy to see him nonetheless for the first time since my visit to Penthouse Land. Craftsmate was going to be joining us after lunch, so we had a little time to ourselves.
As we were walking to his place, we picked up with a little playful banter and I jokingly gave him a little shove.
“Do it again,” he asserted, grinning threateningly down at me in that way that makes me blush and shiver whenever he does it. He’s got over a foot on me and a set of broad shoulders that gives his presence a sense of menace and authority.
I pouted and followed him as he chuckled, “you’re a spoiled brat.”
For the first Flash Forward, click here.
“I touched myself this afternoon,” I tell Craftsmate while we are studying in the library. “And came.”
He frowns a bit and turns the page of the document he’s reading.
I sigh and put the screen of my laptop down. “I was very stressed out.”
“Did it help?” He asks.
I shrug. “Yeah, a little.”
He nods to himself, not looking up from the paper in his hands. “You’re still getting a spanking.” I figured as much.
Back at his place, he gives me a pretty firm spanking. My ass is stinging afterwards and I think I am finished when he asks me to flip over. I roll over on the bed and lie down on my back for him. He traces his finger over my slit.
“Is this the needy little cunt that gets you in so much trouble?”
I nod. He smacks it hard and then teases his fingers over it once more. I feel myself start to get wet. I’m always a little ashamed about how my body tends to betray me like this.
He smacks it a few more times before pulling my panties and my sweatpants up.
“I want to touch it now,” I say with a pout.
He grins and kisses my forehead. I’m tired, but he wants to stay up and work a bit more. “Well, you’re not going to. Sweet dreams.”
As I huff and curl up, he reaches below the sheets and pulls my hands over them so he can see where they are. He sits down at the desk beside his bed and, after a few unanswered exclamations of frustration, I fall asleep.
That look in her eyes says she’s sorry.
But you can never really be too sure.
Every night during my visit to Penthouse’s, he set me a bedtime.
Somehow, I always managed to maneuver my way out of it.
