“What?”
“Friend, singular. I need to be nice to yourfriend. You only have one.”
His teasing makes me angry again, but it’s a different kind of anger now. It’s the kind that makes me hope this will lead to an angry fuck.
“Don’t worry,” he says, his voice suddenly thick with lust as his fingers slide under my coat, finding the hem of my shirt and inching up over my bare skin. “That’s one more friend than I have.” He’s not wearing gloves, and I shiver at his cold touch. A glint of sadness flashes through his eyes before it’s replaced once more by lust.
“Quill…” I begin, my anger already melted.
His hands cup my breasts and I shiver again, losing my train of thought.
Then he traps my nipples between his fingers and twists them hard.
“Fuck, Quill!”
“Language, cricket,” he smirks, his eyes glinting dangerously. “Remember what I said would happen the next time you swore?”
The darkness in his eyes sparks a tingle of fear in me that sends a shudder down my spine and makes me wet between my legs.
“Quill, I—”
“Get me a switch.”
“Awhat?”
“A thin branch. A twig. Make sure it has some bend to it. Not too skinny. It has to last a while.”
“I… what? You’re going toswitchme?” Any last remnants of anger disappear as I blush painfully, feeling my face grow splotchy.
“Uh huh. You’re lucky I don’t have any soap on me, or I’d be washing that filthy little mouth of yours too.”
“Oh my gosh, Quill!” I squeak.
But when he leans against the tree, crossing his arms, I scurry away to do what he says. I have no idea why his threat is such a turn-on. Obviously, I know by now that I like getting spanked. But hearing him threaten to wash my mouth with soap… I’m actually regretting that he doesn’t have any. Hopefully he’ll act on it some other time.
Making a mental note to swear at him next time we’re near a sink, I hunt for a stick that fulfills all the requirements.
But as I return to Quill, my arousal is edged once more with anxiety, when I realize this is the first time he’ll be spanking me with an implement.
His spankings already have me reaching the limit of my tolerance. Even though he was initially gentler after we were reunited, he’s gone right back to the old hard, relentless punishments. It’s like he said. A good pain to replace the bad one. It feels like every time I find myself over his lap, it does more to heal me than anything else. Though I can only imagine what a therapist would say tothat.
I swallow nervously, wondering if he can possibly be planning to hit me as hard with the switch as with his hand.
And then, there’s the thought that Josh could be back at any minute. I hope he got the subtext, and is staying far away.
Quill notes the nervousness in my eyes, and he pulls me to him at once, his eyes soft again. “Come here, you,” he murmurs,kissing me tenderly. “I won’t hurt you, cricket, if you don’t want me to.”
My fear turns to disappointment. “It’s not… It’s just…”
“Yes?” he breathes into my mouth.
“I wish you wouldn’t say that.”
He tucks a tendril of my hair behind my ear, then cups my chin. “What do you mean?”
“It’s like you’re… you’re giving me a choice. I don’t like that.”
What a weird thing to say, I realize. What kind of a feminist am I? I should be glad he’s letting me choose. Giving me an out. And yet, I don’t like knowing that what happens next is up to me. It makes me feel like there’s a heavy weight pressing down on my shoulders. I hate it. I need him to take control.Realcontrol.