His Pretty Toy by Shanna Handel

Chapter 18

Ashe

Today is move out day. I’ll miss my family but after three weeks of sleepless nights, My Little Ponies playing on repeat, and my sister profusely apologizing to Trent, we’re ready for some peace and quiet.

It’s funny. Once we had confirmation that it was Derik’s body that was found and we made arrangements for the big move home, there was no talk of me moving out. Not from him and certainly not from me.

I love it here. I absolutely love it.

And I think… I’m starting to love… him.

Watching him hold Ashley, a cranky toddler, against his chest to bounce her to sleep just about melted me. Then there were the tea parties and coloring marathons Charlotte exposed him to.

And the way he would come and take my mom’s hand to help her up from her chair when her joints were aching. I’m seeing another side of him. A family side.

Nathan stayed with us a few days but quickly packed his bags. He flashed a mischievous grin, saying his doctors insisted he get some quiet to recuperate. Trent’s convinced that Gretchen brought Tarte to his brother’s apartment that day and never left.

Go, Gretchen.

I haven’t paid a bill in weeks. Not one for myself, not one for my family. I check the site for my apartment complex every so often and all my bills are paid there as well. Is he keeping it in case he wants to send me back?

With the things we get into in bed every night, I think not. He can’t keep his hands off me. When I’m washing dishes, he’s coming behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my neck.

When I’m working on my mural for his wall, he’s nibbling at my earlobe.

When I’m helping Barker hang new, bright white curtains over the windows, he’s staring at my ass as I teeter on the ladder.

Tonight, all is quiet. It’s just the two of us. He’s had to run to the office so I’m sipping wine, working alone. I’m putting the finishing touches on the outline of my mural for the dining room. It’s a gothic theme, devils and angels like that drawing I showed Gretchen that day.

I run my finger over the tight jaw of the angel I’ve just finished, his face familiar.

I’m lost in my art and I startle when I hear his voice. “There she is.”

“Just finishing up.” I add a bit of shading around the mouth. “Done.”

He comes behind me, his hand resting on my shoulder. “Impressive.”

“Thank you.” I sit back, staring at my work. I love it. “Do you recognize this angel?” I point to the one I’ve just finished. A tall man with a ridiculously handsome face, square shoulders, massive wings, drawing a sword from his leather belt.

He leans over my shoulder, getting a closer look. “It’s me. Isn’t it?” Amazement creeps into his voice.

I point to the devil that’s battling with the angel, his dark hair swept back, his pitchfork drawn high over his head. “And this devil?”

“My god. It’s me, too.” He stares at my art.

“It’s how I see you,” I say quietly. “The best parts of the dark and the light. You’re good and you’re bad.”

“I can be very bad.” His tongue sweeps up the edge of my ear. He nips at my flesh with the tips of his teeth. “And so can you.”

“Oh, have I been bad?” A delicious shiver runs through me, the mural forgotten. I reach my hand up, cupping the back of his head. “What have you heard?”

His hands glide over my chest, dipping below the neckline of my shirt. He gathers my breast in his hand, squeezing. “I heard you haven’t registered for school yet.”

I freeze.

Oops.

I didn’t think he’d know. “I forgot.”

“That’s one.” He nips my ear.

I think. “One what?”

“One lie.” He moves past the cup of my bra, taking my nipple between his fingers and pinching. “You know you’re a terrible liar, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” I lean back, my legs falling open as he plays with my breast.

“The truth?” He pinches the sensitive bud till I’m gasping.

“I didn’t think you’d find out till it was too late!” I squirm in my seat. “That’s the truth.”

“I find out everything. I thought you knew that about me.” He moves to my other breast, delivering an equal punishment to that nipple.

I let out a whimper. “Is that what you were doing in your office tonight? Checking on me with the university?”

“Yes. Tonight, I’m going to turn you over my knee and spank your bottom till you’re squirming. Then, I’m taking you down to the college myself and you’re going to enroll with my hand on your ass, reminding you of your punishment.”

I shrug, looking at my unfinished mural. “I don’t want to go. I like it here.”

“It’s two semesters and then you’re done.” His word is final. “You’re going.”

“Fine. But no need to spank me about it.” I swat his hand away.

“Naughty girl. Three weeks living with me and you still try to sass me? Haven’t you learned?” He lifts me from the chair, switching places with me. He sits me down on his lap, facing him. I wrap my arms around his neck.

Maybe I got out of my spanking after all. Disappointment fills me. I so love his harsh punishments, even though I dread them.

Reading my thoughts, he cups his hands under my ass, pulling me closer. “Oh, you’re getting your spanking, little girl, but first, I want to kiss you.”

He kisses me, his tongue finding mine. It makes me wet and I grind against him, his cock growing hard beneath me. I pull away, whispering in his ear, “I want you inside me.”

“Naughty and greedy. You need extra spanks, don’t you?” He slips his hand between my legs, playing with me over my panties. “But I have other ways of punishing my wayward girl.”

His fingertip finds its way past the elastic leg of my panties, dipping in my sex. I moan, rocking against him as he fingers me. My legs spread further, a little cool air caressing my hot sex where he’s got my panties pushed away.

My head lolls back as his fingers explore me. “Mmm… that feels so good. Make me come.”

“No.” He slips his finger from me.

My eyes pop open, my bottom lip protruding in a pout. “Why not?”

“I’m going to punish you instead.” His tone goes serious, his brow raising as he gives me a stern stare that I feel down in my core. “I don’t like the way you tried to get something past me. Now lay yourself over my lap.”

“Humph.” I feel naughty, ashamed. I guess I did try to get out of registering for school without discussing it with him first. He waits, patting my bare thigh. “Do I have to do it?”

“Yes.” He gives my thigh a stinging smack. “Now, please.”

I untangle myself from him, un-straddling his legs. It takes all my will power to make myself lie over his lap; it’s so humiliating.

I crawl across his lap, the balls of my feet pressing into the floor, my upper body hanging down. “Like this?”

“Just like that.” He pats my ass. “Raise your dress.”

Again, I wish he would just do it but I know this is all part of my punishment. He wants me to obey him. I lift my skirts, pulling them up over my ass.

He pops my butt. “Lose the panties.”

“I have to pull down my own panties?” My whine is cut off by a sharp smack on my ass. “Fine.” I reach around, grabbing the waistband and tug them down.

I’m naked from the waist down, save for the white panties wrapped around my thighs. The office is chilly. I lay there, waiting.

His voice becomes thick like honey. “Spread those pretty legs.”

I obey, spreading my legs as far as the tight elastic around my thighs will allow me. His slick fingertip goes right to my bottom. He lubes the tight ring of muscles with my arousal. “After I spank you, I’m going to punish you here.” He pushes his way into my ass.

I give a whimper. “With your… cock?”

“Yes.”

I’ve been a bit naughty over the past weeks, here and there. Each time, he’s put a plug in my bottom, stretching me to prepare me for this night. I’m scared, my stomach doing flip-flops but when his finger pumps inside me, my pussy pulses, wanting more.

He takes his finger from me. “Ask me for your spanking.”

I moan. He’s really not happy with me. He knows how much I hate to ask, to follow the steps and do all the shameful things he makes me do.

He also knows how impossibly wet it makes me.

“I’ve been bad.” I wiggle my hips. “Please, spank me.”

“Good girl.” His hand comes down with rhythmic spanks, one after the other, patting my ass all over. He lectures as he spanks. “The next time you tell me you’re doing something, you’d best be doing it. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

He seems to get more annoyed as he spanks, his lecture laying out his grievances with what I’ve done. “Do you know that withholding information is the same as lying to me?”

His hand comes down harder; the time between spanks grows shorter. I shift my weight on my feet, the sting really starting to set in.

“Yes, sir!”

When he’s got my bottom all hot and throbbing, he tells me it’s time. “And this is a punishment fucking. It’s not going to be gentle. Put your hands on my desk.”

I hop up from his lap, sneaking in a rub of my ass while he’s off on the other side of his office digging through a drawer. I get one more quick sneak in, trying to rub out the sting. I make my way over to the desk, my panties tugging against my skin making my movements awkward but I know I’m not allowed to take them off.

My stomach’s doing flip-flops. His cock is as big as his bank account. How the hell is that going to fit in my tiny ass? I press my palms, damp with nervous sweat, against the wooden top of his desk.

I watch him retrieve two items from the drawer. One is a shiny wooden paddle I’ve never seen before. The other, a tube of lube. I swallow hard.

“Um… is that thing,” I nod toward the paddle, “is that thing for—me?” The last word comes out in a squeak.

“Yes. I’ve had it specially made for you. Take a look.” He holds the paddle under my nose. My name is carved in swirling letters across the paddle. If it didn’t looks so damn scary, I might think it was pretty.

He goes behind me, lifting my dress. He runs his hand over my ass, sending tingles over my skin. “Now, you’re going to count for me. How many days has it been since you told me you were going to go to the school to register?”

I think back. “Five?”

“Perfect. Count each one.” He brings the paddle down across the fullest part of my ass. It lands with a dull thud. The heavy wood leaves a different feel than his big hand or his stingy belt. It’s a deeper spank, leaving me throbbing.

“One?”

“Good girl.”

The paddle comes down again, this time with a little more sting. “Two,” I squeak out.

Each time the paddle lands, I have to call out the number and it’s so humiliating, by the time I get to five, my face is heated with shame.

He drops the heavy paddle on the desk beside me so I have to stare at the damn thing. My ass is throbbing, burning, aching. But it’s forgotten the moment the cold lube on his fingertip touches my asshole.

He’s really going to go there.