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“I’ll do anything,” she repeated, her voice desperate.
Reaching over, I roughly groped her breast. I felt her body shake, like she was trying to stop herself from moving. I slid my hand to the low neck of her shirt and shoved it down under her tits, listening to the fabric stretch and rip. Her black bra was stark against her pale skin, and I ran my hand over the silky material, watching her carefully. She didn’t move an inch. She let me touch her, let me explore, and in that moment, I knew she’d let me do anything to her.
“Pull your bra down,” I ordered. She blinked at me but didn’t immediately obey. “Pull your bra down. Let your tits out.”
I didn’t know if it was the alcohol or anxiety making her hands shake as she lifted them to her bra. Gently, she tugged the cups down, exposing her breasts. Her pink nipples were already hard, and I leaned over, taking one in my mouth. She gasped at the feeling but still didn’t move.
“Keep your shirt and bra like this,” I said, blowing cool air over her nipple, watching it tighten further.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath.
Reaching up, I grabbed her other breast roughly, causing a loud moan to escape her lips. She arched into my touch, silently begging for more. But instead of giving her what she wanted, I pulled away again.
“Come on.” I shut the car off and reached for my door handle, but her cool hand on my wrist stopped me.
“I can’t leave my shirt like this,” she muttered, but I ignored her as I slid from the car. Before I closed the door, I poked my head in.
“Follow me, or your punishment will be worse.”
With that, I slammed the door shut and watched her scramble out of the car, stumbling over her feet. Her heavy tits swayed and bounced with each of her sloppy movements as she shut the door and made her way to me. Goosebumps rippled over her skin, and I cupped her breast again.
“If you keep following my orders, you’ll be rewarded at the end of the night,” I said as I squeezed, feeling her hard nipple press into my palm. Her massive eyes stared up at me, allowing me to touch her out in the open like this. I knew she was getting off on this, on being fondled in public, on the chance of anyone catching us lingering in the air.
Suddenly, I let go and made my way up the steps, listening to her stumble her way after me. I unlocked the door and waited for her, watching as she made her way past me into the dark apartment.
I flipped the light on, bathing the room in a dark golden glow. She looked around, her lips parting slightly. “Is this your house?” she asked breathlessly, but I ignored her as I shut and locked the door.
“It’s my apartment,” I corrected, watching as she turned fully to face me. She looked small and vulnerable in the dim light, and despite her drunken state, I could see the desire burning brightly in her eyes. She wanted this as much as I did.
“Strip,” I ordered, leaning against the door. She hesitated for a moment before pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it to the floor. Reaching behind her, she unhooked her bra, letting it join her shirt, and then moved to her skirt.
I watched as she removed the rest of her clothes, taking in her full breasts and soft stomach, her thick thighs, and round hips. She was stuck somewhere between an angel and seductress, a goddess and a whore.
“You’re beautiful,” I breathed, blurting the words out. She looked up at me with a surprised expression, but before she could respond, I stepped closer. “But you’re also a bad girl who needs to be punished.”
She nodded, biting her lip nervously. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but I didn’t want an apology. I wanted her skin bright red.
“Turn around.” The air shifted around us as we stared at each other, waiting to see what she would do. Finally, she turned around. “Hands on the couch.” She bent in half, resting her hands on the couch cushions, her elbows trembling. I knew the world had to be spinning for her, but I didn’t care. She deserved this.
I strode toward the kitchen, yanking a drawer open to find what I was looking for. I felt her eyes on me as I grabbed the thick wooden spoon and turned back toward her, slapping it against my palm, the loud smack ringing through the small apartment.
Her throat bobbed as I made my way back toward her. I stood behind her, taking in the beautiful sight before me. Her ass invited me to punish it, to spank it until welts appeared, then fuck it until she was a sobbing, blubbering mess.
“It’s a count of ten,” I said, my voice low and thick with desire.
“Okay,” she whispered so quietly I could barely hear her.
I grinned as I raised the spoon in the air and brought it down on her left cheek with a loud smack. She let out a gasp, her body jerking forward, before she settled back into position.
“I’m going to ask you again, and you’re going to tell me the truth,” I said, bringing the spoon back down on her ass, watching a red mark appear. “Did you fuck anyone tonight?”
I felt her hesitation before she shook her head. “No,” she said, but I didn’t believe her. The spoon left another mark on her ass, right under the other two red prints.
“Don’t lie to me.” I raised the spoon above my head, my arm quivering with anticipation. I wanted to see more marks on her ass—I wanted to see marks all over her body.
“I’m not,” she whimpered, crying out at the next spank. “That's why I left tonight!”
I paused, the spoon high in the air again. “You left home because of that?” I asked, and she let out a sob as she nodded. “You didn’t fuck someone else at the party?”
