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“I’m full,” I scoffed, and his jaw tensed. He sat back, appraising me. His darkening gaze made me feel uneasy, but not in a bad way. One thing was certain though. It made my needy little pussy come alive. I crossed my legs.
“It would make me very happy to see you finish a few more bites,” he finally said. The stern expression on his face disappeared and I realized that disappointed me in a way. He looked more concerned now and I really didn’t like that.
“Okay. Just a few more, but only for you,” I muttered.
“I appreciate that,” he smiled. He was silent as I ate more off my plate. I looked up to see a relieved expression on his face, and I felt more at ease.
“Tomorrow, I’d like to send you shopping with my assistant. I’ve told him that you’re going to be helping me spruce up this place. I’ll pay you for your help, of course.”
I glanced up at him while chewing another bite of my food. I swallowed and took a sip of water, trying to cover up my disappointment that he wouldn’t be taking me himself.
“Okay. What do you want me to pick out?” I asked.
“New furniture for the living room. Dining room. Cute fixtures for the kitchen and other rooms. Whatever you like, really. I want you to help me make this place our home,” he continued.
Our home.
I turned my head to the side. My body was so hot right now.
“Got it,” I replied, smiling quickly.
Much of the house was under construction now. The pool had been fixed up, along with the sauna, theater, outside landscaping as well as big kitchen upgrades and bathroom updates.
He’d only renovated some of the wing I lived in, mainly ensuring everything was in working order so that he didn’t disturb my part of the house. I’d moved into a slightly bigger bedroom with an attached bathroom complete with a soaker tub about a week after I’d agreed to stay. I’d cleaned it all up myself and a few days later, I’d found a basket on the counter. It was full of a variety of soaps, bath bombs, and bubbles to enjoy.
I’d shyly told him thank you that night and he’d just smiled and thanked me for my help in cleaning up the place. I didn’t dare ask how much the set had cost. He didn’t seem like a man who would buy cheap things. I chewed one more bite thoughtfully, before setting down my fork and deliberately leaving two heaping forkfuls on my plate.
He licked his lips as if he was restraining himself from saying something. His fingers flexed, opening and closing several times until he sighed heavily. I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard.
“I’m looking forward to seeing what you pick out tomorrow. I have an early morning meeting, so I likely won’t see you for breakfast. I expect to see you here for dinner though.” He smiled tightly.
I stood up and left my plate behind. I wanted him to know I wasn’t going to obey him simply because he’d told me to, and also because I wanted to see if I could push him far enough to do something about it.
Would he throw me up against a wall and kiss me?
I remembered that stern look and the way he’d clenched his hand though. I turned back just in time to see him glancing down at my bottom and that same stern expression was back.
Maybe he wouldn’t kiss me. Maybe he would spank me.
I sucked in a breath and flew out of the room, horrified at myself for thinking something like that. I rushed up to my room and hurriedly shut the door. I leaned up against it, whining softly as my clit throbbed insatiably. I bit my lip and slid my hand beneath the stretchy band of my yoga pants. I gasped when my fingers slid through my folds, and I discovered just how wet I was.
I closed my eyes, circling my clit as the image of him taking me over his knee flashed before my eyes. He’d be gentle when he positioned me and when he took my pants and panties down, but his palm would be hard as he taught me a lesson by giving me a spanking that I’d more than earned.
I snatched my hand away from my pussy, horrified at myself for the twisted thoughts spiraling through my mind. Why would a thought like that arouse me?
I’d never been spanked before. I was always the good kid who did well in school. I tried to make my foster parents happy, but they were never really there and mainly lost themselves in drugs or work or whatever they did to make themselves happy.
There was one memory that I’d never forgotten though.
I’d gone through my fair share of foster homes. Some had been good fits, others really bad ones, but the worst one had been the last one. They’d made it clear that they hadn’t wanted me there long after I turned eighteen, so I ran from them the first chance I got. That first night, I stayed at a neighbor’s house a couple of blocks away. I’d knocked on their door with little hope of finding a bed for the night, and they’d taken me in without a second’s hesitation. I hadn’t stayed more than a few days because I was fearful of being found and wanted to get as far away from my foster parents as I could. They hadn’t wanted to let me leave but had understood my feelings in the end. I’d thought about them many times since then.
Their names had been Tammi and Bryan. I remembered the two of them having an argument one night. She’d overspent on a gift for me, and their bank account had over drafted.
I turned my lights off and slipped out of my clothes, putting on nothing more than an oversized nightshirt as I let the memory of that night wash over me.
“Please, Bryan. I just wanted to get something nice to make Cami smile,” she pleaded.
I was in their guest bedroom. I had just opened the door and had peeked out but had paused when I heard their hushed arguing. I’d never much liked hearing things like that. A few of my foster homes growing up often had screaming matches that would result in the police being called, and that had always made me nervous that I’d end up somewhere even worse if the cops deemed it an unfit environment for me.
