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It was only natural - she liked the pain she could cause him when she tormented him. When he realised he’d got something wrong and her right. When she sneered at him when he kissed her, seconds earlier swearing he hated her. She revelled in the pain she could cause him - and so, he thought, ashamed and feverish, wouldn’t it be the same in the bedroom?
She was seated in his lap on the couch, and he was kissing her when she pulled back.
“Take off your shirt,” she ordered.
Usually, she wouldn’t even get the chance to finish her sentence; his shirt gone and disposed of in a flash, always unbuttoned with desperate speed, fumbling fingers and scorching skin.
But today, he merely bit his lip, fixing her with an innocent look. “What if I don’t want to?”
Aware he was taking a massive gamble here, unsure what her reaction would be, he was pleasantly surprised when her eyes widened - something twisted inside him at the sight.
She reached her hand around his throat and squeezed.
He bit back a hiss of pleasure.
“Take it off,” she growled.
His hands remained on her hips, batting his annoyingly long eyelashes at her. “Can’t you do it for me?” His voice still carried through that false sense of innocence, and he could tell he was testing her little patience.
Of course, a part of him was desperate to listen to her, let obedience overtake him as it usually did, especially when she was asking like that. But he had a hypothesis to test, and he was ever so meticulous with his studies.
“Frank, if you don’t take your shirt off right now I’ll-”
“What? Will you punish me for disobeying?”
And that was the reaction he’d been waiting for - the hitch of her breath, the darkening of her eyes. It sent a victorious thrill through him, the subtle shock and curiosity on her face so plain to read.
Then, her expression fell, shifting into something moodier and more nonchalant, as she leaned back, retrieving her hand from his throat and now brushing her hair away from her face. She looked at him anew, in this new space created between them.
He almost pitched forward, wanting more contact than her hands on his arms and her thighs splayed out across his. Wanted her hand around his throat, lips attacking his skin. Wanted to be consumed by her. Wanted her to put him in his place. Instead, he remained still, keeping steady eye contact with her, as he waited, for her to speak.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” she said, almost unbothered, bored.
Oh - she thought she was getting off easy? He had a mission to complete, and her blaze, smug attitude wasn’t going to deter him.
“But Mel…” he whispered, in that breathless, pathetic, pleading voice of his, “I want you to punish me.”
It was fascinating - how quickly her cocky and arrogant persona was now overpowered by the heat of her anger.
Oh, she was furious.
In an instant, she bought her hands to tangle in his hair, yanking him forward so their faces were mere inches apart.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” she muttered, low and hot.
He grinned. “But I do. I’ve been bad, Mel. It's only fair.”
He felt her growing unbearably hot on top of his erection, almost like a furnace, and everything in him resisted the urge to grin wider.
She searched his eyes, scanning between them, alarmed by his behavior but simultaneously wagering on the fact this wasn’t a joke, that maybe he wanted this.
It was almost like he could read her mind - “I’m not messing around...” he whispered into her ear.
Her grip on his hair tightened painfully, and she used her leverage to bring her face back to his. “Frank,” she said seriously, “are you asking what I think you're asking?”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in: he had nearly completed the assignment - this was what he had wanted, what he had set out to achieve.
He breathed out through his nose. “Yes.”
“And have you ever done this before?”
Maybe it was that tone, quiet, reassuring, sweet that made him answer honestly, shyly.
He shook his head, eyes still closed. “I- I wanted to but Abby- said it was weird. Said I was weird and I was so ashamed-”
“Frank. Baby.. ” Her fingers were curled into the shirt at his waist, cutting off his sentence. “Forget whatever she said. She’s an idiot.”
He nodded.
“Open your eyes.”
He did, the sight of her hazel, gentle eyes meeting his. “You have nothing to be ashamed about.”
He clung tighter to her, breathing shakily as he nodded again.
“Do you know what a safe word is?”
He blushed. Quietly. “ Yes .”
“Do you want to tell me what yours is?”
For some reason he hadn’t expected to get this far, feeling completely unprepared. “Uh-” he stuttered. “Red?”
She didn’t laugh as he suspected she would, instead nodding solemnly.
“Let’s switch positions.”
His heart jolted in his chest. “N-Now?”
“Yes, Frank. You’ve been bad - now you get punished.”
His chest heaved but he nodded as he ran a hand through his hair. She unhooked her legs from around him and they both moved, with her taking his seat and him settling on top of her legs. The position made him feel immediately vulnerable. He craned his neck to look down at her.
Her fingers reached for his belt, unbuckling it and he bit back a yelp. This was what he wanted. “You’re trembling. Relax. You can say the safe word anytime.”
She pushed his pants down, and now those marvelous hands of hers were on his boxers. She tugged at them.
“Can I take these off?”
He nodded and as soon as he did, they were pulled off by her, in one swift motion, leaving him completely exposed.
His cock snapped back, hitting his stomach. He groaned as he was sensitive to the cool air, already half-hard and leaking in front of her.
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous as Mel’s hands soothingly rubbed on the smooth skin of his ass.
And then - smack.
“How was that?”
A beat passed. “Good I lik-”
Smack! Another one, this time on his other cheek.
Pain spiked through him but nothing he couldn’t handle.
But oh how quickly that changed as she planted another on his ass, and then another, rubbing his skin between each, but some were successive and he bit his lip so hard he almost drew blood.
“You’re turning a lovely shade of Red, Frank. Remind me again why we’re doing this.
He panted. “Because I didn’t listen to you.”
She rubbed his skin, smoothing him down. Ah!
“How many-” he sucked in the air “Of these are you going to do?”
“Do you want to stop?”
He answered without thinking. “I want whatever you want.”
And he was rewarded. “What a good boy. Taking whatever I give you, isn’t that right?” She hit him again.
“Mm-yes.. Anything for you.”
But it turned out Mel only planned to give him two more before she was pulling him closer onto her lap.
His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were glossy with unshed tears.
Her fingers brushed against his cheek. “Aw. Don’t cry. You were so good for me.”
He whimpered as her fingers traveled down between his legs. “And good boys get rewarded.”
He gasped when her fingers gripped his throbbing sex.
“Tsk Tsk. That was supposed to be a punishment and you got hard from it?”
He couldn’t speak, somehow the spanking had only made everything down there more sensitive. He bucked his hips against her fingers; his hands bunched in the pillows beside them, clutching them like a landline.
She spit in her palm and fisted him again, pumping him with a vice grip, prompting him. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” he choked out. “ Yes, I got hard from it.”
She kissed his mouth but set an unrelenting pace towards his drooling cock. He was so hard that he didn’t have the energy to kiss back, too blissed out, too desperate for release.
“Please,” he gasped out. “Please let me come.”
She hummed against his lips, fingers circling his painfully sensitive tip.
“Come all over my fingers, like the pathetic slut you are.”
He cried out as he dissolved into pleasure, bucking and releasing into her palm. His head fell forward into her neck, breath hot against her skin, as she worked him through his orgasm.