No, I hadn’t thought of her as a little girl at all. But if I had known? Maybe I wouldn’t have dated her. Probably not. And I definitely wouldn’t have done…the things we had done.
“I fucked up,” I told her, savoring the feel of her in my arms in case it were the last time.
Her fingers picked at the fabric of my shirt. “You were a complete asshole.”
“I’m sorry. There’s no excuse I can give for it. What I did was unforgivable even if you’d done something wrong, and you didn’t. All I can ask is that you give me a chance to make it up to you.”
With a sniffle, she asked, “How?”
I tightened my arms, willing her to agree. “Punish me. I’d normally enjoy it, but you have my permission to just go crazy on me. Whatever you want to do – hit me, anything. I’ll take it.”
“My butt hurts,” she said.
Ah, shit – the wrench in my chest turned. “Do it. Pay me back.”
“I don’t think I can do it to you.”
She was right. My hand still stung from the force of my blows, which only served to amplify my guilt. If my hand hurt this bad, I could only imagine what her ass felt like. My butt hurts was the understatement of the year.
I pushed her gently off my lap and stood up. I removed my belt first, then the rest of my clothes. My cock had been soft through this, despite the fact that I’d held her naked body. But now with the kiss of the air, it hardened to life.
But this wasn’t sexual. I couldn’t help whatever arousal I might feel, but this wasn’t about my pleasure. It wasn’t even about hers, really. It was about payback. No, it was about redemption. If I could make it up to her this way, then maybe we could still be together. Maybe I could keep her.
When I had finished undressing, I picked my belt up off the floor, folded it over and held it out to Melissa.
She shook her head, looking horrified. “I can’t do that.”
“You have to,” I pleaded.
“Oh, Wyle,” she let out in a sigh. “You’re a mess.”
“I know,” I half-laughed, half-choked out. Standing there with my naked, middle-aged body and my semi-erect cock, holding out my belt so she could beat me – yeah, I was a mess.
But she reached out and accepted the belt gingerly, then stood with me. With a nod of her head, she directed me to stand at the foot of the bed. She firmly grabbed my wrists and placed my hands on the footboard, a low wooden railing.
I could feel the air shifting as she assumed her role, the power I had given her. It didn’t matter that her eyes were still puffy from the crying or that she sniffled every few seconds. She was gorgeous and sexy, and for now anyway, my Mistress. However temporary, in that moment she could have asked me to walk through fire, and I would’ve burned for her.
I must have made quite a picture, holding fast to her footboard. An ugly, pathetic picture. Perfect, because what I’d done to her was both ugly and pathetic. There wasn’t really a more vulnerable way for a man to stand than with his ass out like this. From the beginning of time, it had meant he was going to get fucked or he was going to get whipped. The former would definitely be preferable, at least where Melissa was involved, but it was the latter I’d signed up for, begged for.
“Please,” I said, my head lowered.
Her fingertips trailed down my shoulder blades, so light I wasn’t even sure she had done it. Down along my spine and between the dip of my ass cheeks. When her fingers found my balls, they wrapped around them and squeezed.
The belt landed in front of me in a soft thud of leather on fabric and clink of the buckle.
“No,” she said. “I’m not going to.”
My pain-hazed mind processed that. She wasn’t going to do it. No, no. I couldn’t think how we would stay together if she didn’t. Well, I couldn’t think much of anything at the moment.
“I don’t want to. And besides – ” Her fingers tightened on my balls. “ – if it’s supposed to be a punishment, shouldn’t I get to pick?”
“What do you pick?” My voice was too high, almost a squeak, but then she literally had me by the balls.
“This,” she said. “I’m going to play with your body, and you’re going to take it. That’s easy enough, right?”
I did squeak then, because her fingers punched up into my sack, pushing my whole body up on my toes. Even my arms strained against the footboard, as if I could lift my body up off her hands.