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Wordlessly, I move toward him…crunch, crunch, crunch. The box drops from his hand as I approach, spilling even more of the sticky cereal onto the dusty floor. He eyes it for a second just as my hand reaches out and wraps around the back of his neck, squeezing it gently. I can feel the heat of him, the thundering of his pulse. He’s like a supernova, a black hole, sucking me in, making it impossible to circumvent him.
I pull him toward the backdoor, but instead of him allowing it, he wrenches away from me and bolts. I don’t even hesitate this time. I’m slightly caught off guard, but I won’t let him get too much of a head start.
He scurries around the table where some groceries sit and he chucks a bushel of bananas at me. It zings past my head, plopping onto the floor, and my blood pumps faster. Those better not bruise… Oh, I am going to do things to him. Going to bring him over my knee….
My arm swings out and curls around his waist, pulling him into me roughly. His breath leaves him in a whoosh as I yank out a chair and sit down. My arms jostle him, turning him over so his face is on the floor and his ass is up.
I stare at it as he struggles, trying to get away, but no…he needs this. My hand cups one of his cheeks, massaging it roughly over his underwear, pulling a moan from his mouth. It has to still hurt from his earlier spanking.
I squeeze harder.
“Fuck this!” Diablo whines as I do it over and over, some of my movements thwarted by his legs kicking out and his nails digging into my skin.
“You love it,” I say. “Don’t fucking pretend.”
“I hate it,” he moans as I work his underwear up and into his crack, loving the way it stretches across his skin, exposing the pink of his round little globes to me. I want to make them redder, want to make him feel this for days.
“Tell me to stop then.”
Diablo’s silence tells me everything I need to know.
I pull the fabric harder and Diablo groans, his back arching up.
“Fuck that hurts!”
“Good.”
And then without another word, my fingers wrap around the waistband of his boxers and I rip them in half, the sound of the fabric tearing making my cock leak. They’re just as flimsy as I thought they were. They don’t even put up a fight, unlike their owner who is trying to squirm free.
But I won’t allow it.
He needs to fucking listen. This could mean life or death.
That’s why I’m doing this. To save his life.
My hand lands on his bare ass with an audible slap, and Diablo jolts forward, his hard length digging into my thigh.
“Fuck you!” he cries as I spank him again.
Hm, I’m coming to really enjoy this, the way he wiggles against me, the stinging in my hand with each connection. The sound of his cries and moans as I land slap after slap on his pink, jiggly ass.
Well, not so pink anymore. It’s starting to turn red now. A pretty shade. Like a cherry.
“You can’t do this,” he moans as I squeeze his red skin and then run my finger up his crack.
He pretends to hate it, but he fucking craves it.
He craves the attention I’m giving to him. This is what he needs, someone to show him that they care and will do anything to make sure he’s safe.
“I can do anything I like to you. I’m bigger.”
“I’m going to murder you,” he moans, and his threat is laughable. The way he’s fucking up against my leg and the groans escaping him only make him seem desperate for what I’m doing to him.
My finger brushes over his hole and I feel his intake of breath as I press against it. I can’t tear my eyes away from it, envisioning my big dick slowly splitting him wide open. The way he would scream.
“You going to behave now?” I ask, pressing against his hole over and over until he’s gasping.
“Never,” he manages to say, and I huff out a laugh, my eyes swiveling from his ass to the table where a bottle of olive oil sits.
