Dancing in the kitchen, radio blasting, hands busy with the mundane, i don’t hear him behind me ~
~ i feel his hands on my waist, his breath on my neck.
i gasp and smile. His hands move up to rub my breasts, pinch my nipples. i let my head fall back on his shoulder. He wraps one arm around me, anchoring me securely against him, whispers, “slut.”
“I’m going to let you go,” he says. “When I do, I want you to pull down your pants and bend over the kitchen table. Is that clear?”
i have learned to move quickly when he tells me these things, in seconds, my pants are down, and i’m bent over the table, ass exposed. i hear him moving behind me, i know what he’s doing. It’ll be the wooden spoon, it’s always the wooden spoon at these times.
Predictable ~ the wooden spoon ~ and novel. There will be something novel too, i don’t know what.
“How many? How many shall I give you?”
“However many you want to give me, Sir,” i say, sure this is the right answer. But not today.
“No, you pick how many.”
Damn. i don’t want to ~ i know this is somehow not going to go well. His hand strokes my ass, then i feel the spoon moving lightly over my skin. i shiver.
“How many?” Calm but relentless.
Ok, ok. “Um, um, four. Four sounds right.”
“Four? Four on each cheek, or four all together?”
“Um, all together. Please, Sir.”
“I’m not sure that’s the right number,” he says, “But we can try it.”
The spoon lands, hard and fast, twice on each cheek, i barely have time to cry out before he’s done.
He strokes my ass, which is burning already where the blows have landed. He taps me very lightly with the spoon on the insides of my thighs. “No,” he says, “I don’t think that was the right number. Let’s try again. How many this time?”
“Um, i don’t know, Sir, i don’t know.” i’m squirming a bit, this ‘pick a number’ thing is not going to go well, i already know.
“Come on,” he says, “Pick a number. I’ll make it easier, not just any number, but a number between 4 and 100. We’ll eliminate anything over 100. For now.”
“Omigod, Sir,” i’m giggling, “That doesn’t make it easier, ok, ok, six, i pick six.”
“Six.” He sounds thoughtful. “It’s a good number. Let’s see if it works. But slower this time, don’t you think? I think I went too fast last time, let’s make it last a bit longer. Agreed?”
And WHACK, the spoon strikes my left cheek, hard, and, “Yes, Sir,” i say quickly. “Yes, Sir.”
“I hope this turns out to be the right number,” he says, doubtfully,and WHACK, my right cheek is burning in a new place.
His fingers probe between my legs, “Wet,” he says. “You are such a slut.” Fingers removed, i gasp, and the spoon hits the back of my right thigh.
i cry out.
Back of my left thigh. O!! O, that hurts.
“Stick your ass out more,” he says. “Just two more. Although ~ you know, I’m still not sure six was the right number. But let’s try these two, yeah right here,” hands on my ass, “So you can feel it when you sit down…”