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“But before we do anything, you’re going to go clean up that mess in my kitchen and then I’m going to spank your ass for being such a brat.”
I let out a whine as he starts to pull my clothes off, dragging them over my cock as he goes, lighting my body on fire.
“You’re going to make me sweep up that mess naked?”
“Oh, yes. With shoes on though. Don’t want to cut your feet.”
He strips me down and then puts my shoes on before pulling me up and leading me into the kitchen. The mess I made is epic, plates and bowls smashed across the floor. Fuck, I did a good job, but goddamn, this is going to take forever to clean up.
“I don’t wanna,” I say.
“You’re gonna.”
He lowers himself onto a chair and spreads his legs, looking so fucking sexy as he points to the broom.
“Get to it.”
I hesitate a moment and Skylar runs his hand across his jaw, looking awfully predatory. Oh, he wants me to resist, and part of me wants to, but the other part of me wants to get to the good part.
I want what he has planned for me.
And so I move, sweeping up the mess, leaning down to gather it all in the dustpan and tossing it in the garbage. Only to repeat the process over and over until my cock is leaking and my balls are drawn tight. Oh fuck, this is the worst kind of torture. I can feel his eyes on me. I know that he’s waiting for me so patiently.
“This is just so fucking boring. I’m so over it,” I say as I toss another load into the garbage.
“Hmm,” Skylar says in response. I look back at him, seeing the swell of his cock in his pants, but he makes no move to touch it. Well, whatever. He can wait then. I move slower and slower, time ticking by. It’s torture for me, but more importantly, for him.
This is what he gets.
When I finally toss the last bit into the trash, Skylar doesn’t waste another second. He stands and silently grabs on to my hand, pulling me toward the kitchen table and bending me over before walking away.
“You think I’m just going to take this willingly?” I yell snottily.
Skylar chuckles as he returns with a rope in hand.
“No. Which is why I’m going to tie your legs to the table. So you can’t do anything but take it.”
My breath comes out in a whoosh as he bends down and secures my ankles to the table legs, his nose dragging up the back of my thigh as he does. And then he’s standing up, pressing into my back and forcing my cheek flat against the wooden surface. He grabs on to my hands and pulls them behind my back, securing me at my wrists.
I am so fucked.
“Now,” he begins, moving away from me and rustling around in a drawer. I peek back and see him carrying a wooden spoon, harking back to the time he spanked me in that safe house.
My dick jumps in excitement.
“How many do you think you deserve for the tantrum you threw?”
“Zero.”
He chuckles and taps the wooden spoon against my ass lightly.
“I’m thinking fifty, and you need to count.”
I roll my eyes, wiggling my ass slightly.
“Ugh, no thanks.”
He lands one hard and steady against my ass cheek, and I hiss. “That one doesn’t count. That was for you being a brat. Now, do you want another or do you want to start with one?”
