#brat training

Ghost stared down at you—the skull mask made your stomach churn. The hidden identity aspect didn't help at all with the situation you found yourself in. And he was huge. They were all huge, but he was freakishly huge.

They made quick work of your little Halloween costume. Loud fabric tears echoed through the room—shorts and panties and your top in shreds on the floor.

"Let me go!" You wriggled in their grip, but they didn't even budge. They only laughed in response, finding the whole thing amusing. The reality of your fate finally began to sink in, an air of panic rising within you as tears threatened to well in your eyes.

Price stepped forward, nudging your knees apart with his large thighs, exposing your hot core.

He cocked his head to the side, cooing at it like it was alive. Ghost's hand went straight to your clit, pinching it and laughing as you thrashed from the contact.

Soap joined in and started slapping your folds—both men pinching and teasing your poor pussy like it was nothing more than a toy for them to abuse.

Tears fell from your eyes—a mixture of pain and pleasure along with embarrassment as you lay there so helpless under their hold.

"Come on, lads, that's not nice." A soft voice broke through your sobs. It was Gaz. He walked over, joining in on the commotion.

Just as you thought he was going to be your knight in shining armour, he quickly bent down and placed a finger around your entrance, drawing little circles around your hole before inserting it inside you.

"At least let her cum once before she's too fucked to even know what's going on," he mock-sympathised, brown eyes carrying a dark glint as he continued to fuck your little hole with his fingers.

Ghost made steady work of your clit, continuing to rub menacing circles while Soap sucked on your tits. Your sobs turned into moans quickly as you lay there, a wet mess under their hands.

It wasn't long before you reached your climax, releasing your juices all over Gaz's fingers, shuddering from your high. For a second, you forgot where you were or who you were with as your orgasm ripped through your body.

The aftershocks still rippled through you, your thighs trembling uncontrollably as Gaz slowly withdrew his fingers. Your chest heaved, breath coming in ragged gasps. For a moment, the room was quiet except for your panting—all four men watching you come undone beneath them.

But you couldn't let them win. Not yet.

"T-that all you got?" The words tumbled out before you could stop them, your voice shaky and breathless but still dripping with venom. "Pathetic. I've had better from a—"

The slap came so fast you didn't see it coming. Price's hand cracked across your face, snapping your head to the side. The sting bloomed hot across your cheek, silencing you instantly.

"There it is," Price growled, his voice dangerously low. "Still running that fucking mouth."

Ghost's grip tightened on your wrists, pinning them above your head with bruising force. "Thought one orgasm would fix her attitude," he rumbled, his accent thick with disdain. "Guess we need to try harder."

"Much harder," Soap agreed, his hand coming down hard on your inner thigh. The sharp crack echoed through the room, followed immediately by another, and another. You yelped, trying to close your legs, but Price's thighs kept you spread wide open.

"Look at her," Gaz said, standing and wiping your slick across your own lips. "Still thinks she's in control. Still thinks this is a game."

Panic clawed at your chest. You needed leverage—something, anything to regain the upper hand. Your father. Your father was a fucking general. They couldn't do this to you.

"Wait—wait until my father hears about this!" The words came out desperate, shrill. "He'll have you all court-martialed! Dishonorably discharged! You'll rot in military prison for touching me—"

The room went silent.

Then they laughed.

All four of them—deep, genuine laughter that made your blood run cold. Price's shoulders shook with it, Ghost's chest rumbled, Soap actually doubled over slightly, and even Gaz's usually composed face split into a wide grin.

"Oh, sweetheart," Price said, wiping his eyes as his laughter subsided. "You really don't know, do you?"

Your stomach dropped. "Know what?"

Ghost leaned down, his masked face inches from yours, voice cold as death. "Who do you think gave us the green light?"

"No—" The word came out as barely a whisper.

"Your father," Price continued, his tone almost conversational now, "stopped me as we were escorting you out of his gala. You remember that, don't you? Saw him whisper in my ear?"

You did remember. You'd noticed it, wondered what was being said, but you'd been too focused on maintaining your dignity as they dragged you away.

"Want to know what he said?" Price's smile was cruel. "He said, 'Captain Price, my daughter needs an attitude adjustment. Do whatever it takes. Break her if you have to. Just make sure she learns some fucking respect.'"

The words hit you like a physical blow. Your vision swam, ears ringing. "You're lying—"

"Am I?" Price pulled out his phone, scrolling for a moment before turning the screen toward you. It was a text message from a number you recognized—your father's private line.

She's all yours. No limits. Fix her.

The phone disappeared, but the words were burned into your brain. Your own father. Your own fucking father had handed you over to them like—like you were nothing. Like you were a problem to be solved, a brat to be broken.

"He even gave us this room," Gaz added, his voice carrying mock sympathy. "Made sure it was soundproof. Said he didn't want to hear you screaming."

"No—no, he wouldn't—" But even as you said it, you knew it was true. The way he'd looked at you lately, the disappointment in his eyes every time you acted out, every time you embarrassed him in front of his colleagues.

"Face it, princess," Ghost said, his grip on your wrists tightening until you whimpered. "Daddy doesn't want you back until we've fucked all that bratty entitlement out of you. You have no leverage. No power. No escape."

Something inside you cracked. The last wall of defense, the final thread of control you'd been clinging to—it snapped. Your father had betrayed you. Given you to these men like you were nothing more than a problem to be handled.

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling down your temples. "Please—"

"Please what?" Price asked, his hand wrapping around your throat again, tighter this time, cutting off your air completely. "Please stop? Your father said no limits, sweetheart. We can do whatever the fuck we want to you. And we're going to. We're going to fuck every last bit of that attitude out of you until you're nothing but an obedient little slut. Understand?"

You couldn't respond, couldn't breathe. Your vision started to blur at the edges, panic rising as your lungs screamed for air. Just when you thought you might pass out, he released you.

You gasped, coughing and sputtering, but before you could recover, Price grabbed your jaw roughly. "Open."

"Fuck y—"

He squeezed your cheeks, forcing your mouth open, and spat directly onto your tongue. The degradation of it made your face burn with humiliation.

"Swallow it," he commanded.

You glared up at him, defiance still flickering in your eyes despite everything. His expression darkened.

"Swallow. It."

Reluctantly, you did, the taste of him sliding down your throat. He smiled—cold and predatory.

"Good girl. See? You can follow orders when properly motivated."

"Flip her over," Ghost ordered, his voice carrying the weight of command.

They moved with military precision, manhandling you onto your stomach before you could protest. Your face pressed into the mattress, ass up in the air, completely exposed and vulnerable. Ghost kept your wrists pinned while Soap grabbed your hips, positioning you exactly how they wanted.

"This arse has been begging for attention," Soap said, his accent thick with lust. His palm came down hard on your right cheek, then your left, alternating in a brutal rhythm that had you crying out into the sheets.

"Count them," Price ordered from somewhere behind you. "And thank us for each one."

"Fuck—no—"

Another vicious slap, harder than the others.

"That's one you've missed already," Price said calmly. "We'll just have to start over. And add extras for the attitude."

Soap's hand came down again, the sound obscenely loud.

"One," you gasped out, your pride crumbling with each strike. "T-thank you."

"Thank you, what?"

"Thank you, sir."

"Better."

The spanking continued, each strike harder than the last, until your ass was burning and tears were streaming down your face. Your cunt, traitorously, was dripping—arousal mixing with humiliation in a way that made your head spin.

"Look how wet she is," Gaz observed, running a finger through your folds. "Getting off on being punished like the desperate little slut she is."

"Please—" The word escaped before you could stop it.

"Please what?" Price asked, his hand replacing Gaz's, two thick fingers sliding into you without warning. "Please stop? Please more? Use your words, sweetheart."

You couldn't answer, couldn't think. His fingers curled inside you, finding that spot that made you see stars, while his thumb pressed against your clit. The pleasure was overwhelming after the pain, your body confused and desperate.

"She's clenching around my fingers," Price announced. "Greedy little cunt wants more."

"Then let's give her more," Ghost said darkly.

You heard the sound of a belt buckle, then another. Your heart raced, anticipation and fear mixing into something intoxicating.

Price withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching. "Who wants her mouth first?"

"Me," Soap said immediately, moving around to kneel in front of you. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head up. His cock was already hard, thick and intimidating. "Open up, princess. Time to put that bratty mouth to good use."

You pressed your lips together stubbornly, one last act of defiance.

His grip tightened painfully in your hair. "Open. Or I'll make you."

When you still didn't comply, he pinched your nose shut, cutting off your air. You held out as long as you could, but eventually, you had to gasp for breath. The moment your mouth opened, he shoved his cock inside, making you gag.

"That's it," he groaned, holding your head in place as he thrust into your mouth. "Fucking take it."

Tears streamed down your face as he used your throat, giving you barely any time to breathe. Behind you, you felt the blunt head of someone's cock—Price's, you thought—pressing against your entrance.

"Remember, sweetheart," Price said, his voice rough with desire. "You asked for this. You wanted to see what would happen if you kept running that mouth."

He slammed into you in one brutal thrust, stretching you wide, filling you completely. You would have screamed if Soap's cock wasn't buried in your throat. The sensation of being filled from both ends was overwhelming, your body stretched and used.

They found a rhythm, Price pounding into you from behind while Soap fucked your face, both men using you like their personal toy. Ghost still held your wrists, keeping you pinned and helpless, while Gaz watched, stroking himself slowly.

"Such a pretty sight," Gaz murmured. "All that attitude fucked right out of her."

But he was wrong. Even now, even like this, you tried to hold onto some shred of control. You bit down slightly on Soap's cock—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to remind him you still had teeth.

He pulled out immediately, his hand cracking across your face. "Fucking bitch."

"She needs to learn," Ghost said coldly. He released your wrists only to grab your throat from behind, pulling you up so your back was against his chest. Price never stopped fucking you, the new angle making him hit even deeper. "Needs to understand what happens when she misbehaves."

His hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your air while Price continued to rail you mercilessly. The combination of pleasure and oxygen deprivation made your head spin, your vision going hazy.

"You going to behave?" Ghost growled in your ear. "Or do we need to get rougher?"

You couldn't answer, couldn't breathe. Your body was betraying you, another orgasm building despite—or maybe because of—the brutal treatment.

He released your throat just enough for you to gasp in air. "Answer me."

"F-fuck you," you managed to choke out.

Wrong answer.

Ghost shoved you back down, face-first into the mattress. Price pulled out, and before you could process the emptiness, you felt him pressing against your other hole.

"No—wait—" Panic flooded through you.

"Should have behaved," Price said simply, and pushed inside.

The stretch was intense, burning, overwhelming. You cried out, hands fisting in the sheets as he worked himself deeper, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside you.

"Fuck, she's tight," Price groaned. "Virgin arse, sweetheart?"

You couldn't respond, couldn't do anything but whimper as he started to move, slow at first, then faster. The pain gradually shifted into something else, something that had you moaning despite yourself.

"That's it," he praised darkly. "Take it like a good girl. This is what you needed all along, isn't it? Someone to put you in your place."

Gaz moved to kneel beside your head, his cock level with your face. "Open," he commanded, gentler than Soap but no less firm.

This time, you obeyed. You were too overwhelmed to fight anymore, too lost in sensation. He slid into your mouth, groaning at the wet heat.

"There we go," Gaz murmured, stroking your hair almost tenderly even as he fucked your throat. "See how much easier it is when you just submit?"

They used you together, Price in your ass and Gaz in your mouth, while Soap and Ghost watched, waiting their turn. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation. Another orgasm was building, impossible to fight, your cunt clenching around nothing.

"She's close again," Price observed, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Can feel her squeezing me. You want to cum, sweetheart?"

You moaned around Gaz's cock, desperate and needy.

"Then beg for it. Beg us to let you cum."

Gaz pulled out, giving you the chance to speak. Your voice was wrecked, barely recognizable. "Please—please let me cum—"

"Please what?"

"Please, sir—please—I need it—"

"Do you deserve it?" Price asked, his hand coming down hard on your already-bruised ass. "After all that attitude? After all that disrespect?"

"I'm sorry—I'm sorry—please—"

"Sorry for what?"

"For being a brat—for talking back—please—I'll be good—"

"Will you?" His pace increased, brutal and punishing. "Will you really?"

"Yes! Yes, I promise—please—"

"Cum," he commanded. "Cum on my cock like the desperate little slut you are."

Permission granted, your body obeyed. The orgasm crashed through you, more intense than the first, leaving you shaking and sobbing. Price followed moments later, spilling inside you with a groan, his fingers digging bruises into your hips.

He pulled out slowly, and you collapsed onto the mattress, completely spent. But they weren't done with you yet.

"My turn," Ghost said, his voice dark with promise. "And I'm not going to be gentle."

You barely had time to catch your breath before Ghost's massive hands gripped your hips, flipping you onto your back. Through tear-blurred vision, you saw him looming over you—all muscle and menace, the skull mask making him look inhuman. Your heart hammered against your ribs.

Some stupid, stubborn part of you—the part that had gotten you into this mess—tried one last time to assert itself.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" you rasped, your voice hoarse and broken. "You're all the same. Just—"

His hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off your words and your air. He squeezed hard, harder than Price had, until black spots danced in your vision. Your hands flew to his wrist, clawing uselessly.

"Still talking," Ghost said, his voice cold and emotionless. "Let's fix that."

He released your throat just long enough for you to gasp in a desperate breath, then slammed into you in one brutal thrust. You screamed—the stretch was overwhelming, painful, his cock even thicker than Price's. He gave you no time to adjust, immediately setting a punishing pace that had you seeing stars.

"That's better," he grunted, his hand returning to your throat, squeezing rhythmically as he fucked you. "No more smart mouth. Just a hole to use."

The lack of oxygen combined with the brutal fucking made your head spin. Your body didn't know whether to fight or surrender, pleasure and pain blurring into something incomprehensible. Tears streamed down your temples as he used you, his grip on your throat never loosening.

"Look at her," Soap said from somewhere above you. "Fucking crying. Where's all that attitude now, princess?"

You tried to glare at him, tried to summon some last shred of defiance, but Ghost squeezed harder and your vision went hazy. Just when you thought you might pass out, he released you, letting you gulp in air.

"Open your mouth," Soap commanded, moving to kneel beside your head.

You hesitated for just a second—one second too long. Ghost's hand cracked across your face, the slap echoing through the room.

"He gave you an order," Ghost growled, never breaking his rhythm. "Obey."

Your mouth fell open, and Soap immediately shoved his cock inside, groaning as he hit the back of your throat. Between Ghost's brutal thrusts and Soap fucking your face, you couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Your body was just a vessel for their pleasure, used from both ends.

"That's it," Soap moaned, his hands tangling in your hair. "Take it. This is what that bratty mouth is good for."

They found a rhythm, both men using you in sync, and despite everything—despite the pain and the humiliation and the overwhelming sensation—you felt another orgasm building. Your body was betraying you completely, responding to the brutal treatment with desperate arousal.

Ghost felt you clenching around him and laughed darkly. "She's going to cum again. Fucking slut loves being used like this."

"No—" you tried to protest around Soap's cock, but it came out as a muffled moan.

"Yes," Ghost corrected, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing harsh circles. "Cum on my cock. Show us what a desperate whore you are."

The orgasm hit you like a freight train, ripping through your body with terrifying intensity. You convulsed around Ghost's cock, screaming around Soap's, your entire body shaking uncontrollably. It went on and on, wave after wave of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

Soap pulled out of your mouth, letting you gasp and sob. "Fuck, look at her. Completely gone."

Ghost didn't slow down, fucking you through your orgasm and beyond, pushing you toward overstimulation. You whimpered, hands pushing weakly at his chest.

"Too much—can't—please—"

"You can," he said simply. "And you will."

He pulled out suddenly, leaving you empty and aching. Before you could process the loss, he flipped you over onto your hands and knees. You barely had the strength to hold yourself up, arms shaking.

"Ass up," Ghost ordered, his hand pressing between your shoulder blades, forcing your face into the mattress. "Present yourself properly."

You obeyed without thinking, too overwhelmed to fight. He entered you again from behind, the new angle somehow even deeper. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise as he pounded into you relentlessly.

"Good girl," he praised darkly. "Learning your place."

Price moved in front of you, his cock still hard despite having just finished. He grabbed your hair, lifting your head. "Clean me off."

You opened your mouth automatically, taking him in, tasting yourself and his cum. The degradation of it should have made you angry, should have sparked some resistance, but instead you just felt... empty. Compliant. Broken.

"That's it," Price murmured, his voice almost gentle. "No more fighting. Just obedience."

Ghost's pace became erratic, his grip tightening. "Going to fill this cunt up," he grunted. "Mark you as ours."

He came with a low groan, spilling deep inside you. The warmth of it triggered another orgasm—smaller than the others but no less devastating. You moaned around Price's cock, your body trembling.

Ghost pulled out, and immediately Gaz took his place. You whimpered at the intrusion, oversensitive and overwhelmed, but he just shushed you mockingly.

"Shh, you can take more," Gaz said, his voice deceptively sweet. "You're going to take everything we give you."

He fucked you slowly at first, almost gentle, but his hand came down hard on your ass. Once, twice, three times, until you were crying out around Price's cock.

"Count them," Gaz ordered. "And thank me."

Price pulled out, letting you speak. Your voice was absolutely wrecked.

"One—thank you, sir—"

Another slap.

"Two—thank you, sir—"

Again.

"Three—thank you, sir—"

The spanking continued, each strike harder than the last, until your ass was on fire and you were sobbing openly. But you counted every single one, thanked him for every single one, your resistance completely shattered.

"Good girl," Gaz praised, his pace increasing. "See how much better you are when you behave?"

"Yes, sir," you whimpered, the words coming automatically now. "I'm sorry—I'm sorry for being bad—"

"What are you?" Price asked, his hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.

"A slut," you whispered, shame burning through you. "Your slut."

"Louder."

"I'm your slut!" you cried out, tears streaming down your face. "I'm a worthless slut who needs to be used—please—please use me—"

"Fuck," Gaz groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. "She's really broken now."

He came inside you with a shudder, adding to the mess already leaking out of you. When he pulled out, you collapsed onto the mattress, unable to hold yourself up anymore. Your body was covered in sweat, cum, and tears, trembling uncontrollably.

"One more," Soap said, his voice thick with desire. "My turn to break her completely."

"Please," you sobbed, not even sure what you were begging for anymore. "Please—"

"Please what?" Soap asked, positioning himself behind you. "Please fuck you? Please stop? Use your words, princess."

"Please fuck me," you heard yourself say, the words tumbling out without thought. "Please use me—I need it—I need you to use me—"

"That's what I wanted to hear."

He entered you roughly, and despite everything, despite the overstimulation and exhaustion, your body responded. You moaned, pushing back against him, desperate for more.

"Look at her," Price said, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. "Begging for it now. Where's that bratty little girl who thought she was in control?"

"Gone," you whimpered, the truth of it hitting you. "She's gone—I'm yours—please—"

Soap fucked you brutally, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you back onto his cock with each thrust. The wet sounds of your coupling filled the room, obscene and degrading.

"Say it again," he demanded. "Tell us what you are."

"I'm yours," you sobbed, your mind fragmenting under the onslaught of sensation. "I'm your slut—your toy—your cum dumpster—please—please use me—"

"Fucking hell," Soap groaned. "She's perfect like this. Completely broken."

Another orgasm was building, impossible as it seemed. Your body was beyond your control now, responding to their commands, their touch, their words. You were nothing but sensation, nothing but need.

"Cum," Soap ordered, his hand reaching around to rub your clit. "Cum for me, slut."

You shattered. The orgasm tore through you with devastating force, leaving you screaming and convulsing. Your vision went white, your mind going completely blank. You were aware of nothing but the pleasure, the overwhelming, all-consuming pleasure that seemed to go on forever.

Soap came with a roar, filling you one last time. When he pulled out, you collapsed completely, unable to move, unable to think. Cum leaked out of you, dripping down your thighs. Your body was covered in marks—bruises, bite marks, handprints. You were utterly destroyed.

For a long moment, there was silence except for your ragged breathing and quiet sobs.

"Look at me," Price commanded softly.

You turned your head, meeting his eyes. There was no defiance left in you, no attitude, no fight. Just submission. Complete and total submission.

"What are you?" he asked one final time.

"Yours," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I'm completely yours. I'll do anything—be anything—please—just—"

You couldn't even finish the sentence, too broken to articulate what you needed.

Price's hand stroked your hair, almost tender. "That's right. You're ours now. Our good girl. Our obedient little slut."

"Yes, sir," you breathed, the words feeling right in a way nothing else ever had. "Thank you, sir."

Ghost's hand joined Price's, both men touching you with surprising gentleness now that you were completely broken. "No more attitude," Ghost said. "No more bratty behavior."

"No, sir," you agreed immediately, desperately. "I'll be good—I promise—I'll be so good—"

"We know you will," Gaz said, his hand running down your back. "Because now you understand your place."

"Yes, sir," you whispered, fresh tears sliding down your cheeks. "I understand."

Soap pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his earlier roughness replaced with something almost affectionate. "Our perfect little toy."

You nodded weakly, accepting the label, accepting everything. Your bratty attitude was gone, fucked out of you completely, replaced with desperate submission and need. You were theirs—mind, body, and soul—and the terrifying part was how right it felt.

How much you wanted to stay exactly like this.

Broken. Obedient. Theirs.

"Please," you whispered one last time, not even sure what you were asking for. "Please don't stop—I need—I need you—"

Price smiled, dark and satisfied. "Don't worry, sweetheart. We're not done with you yet. Not even close."

And despite your exhaustion, despite being utterly destroyed, you felt a thrill of anticipation run through you.

Because you wanted more.

You needed more.

You were theirs, and you never wanted it to end.

-

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so while you’re standing there and trying to process that, an idea pops into your head. you decide to push back, by telling him you’re just going to relieve yourself on your own. dabi rolls his eyes, clearly amused by your little threat. it’s so funny to him that you really think you did something with that.

brat tamer! dabi’s next words are yeah? sounds like someone forgot that she needs some fuckin’ permission for that. the confrontation ends there, and frustrated, you go your separate ways. until you find a loophole later on and send him a picture of your sticky fingers, captioned with “you never said i couldn’t ask for permission from my stuffed animals”

it pisses him off, it really does—but dabi keeps a level head, though you can tell from the twitching of his lips and the sighs through his nose that he’s growing fed up with you.

when you stick your tongue out and say, i don’t need your permission. i can give myself permission or ask it from something else he just folds his arms up and looks at you like he’s trying to figure out if he wants to fuck you or spank the shit out of you.

brat tamer! dabi settles on the latter, just to draw it out. he even makes you count how many spanks you get, and he’s planning to stop after a generous ten when you’re like one .. two .. three .. sevennn… not even fucking counting in order.

he’s pissed because he’s trying his best to lean into the role, but you’re really giving him a run for his money—it’s difficult to play the game right by properly balancing what he’s supposed to do vs what he wants to do. and right now, he wants to fuck you so hard you can’t even form a sentence by the end of it.

brat tamer! dabi bites his tongue and bends you over. he’s not kind in the slightest when he’s tearing your wet panties to the side and calling you names, saying things like awww, my little whore wanted to be in charge for once, huh? keep trying, you nearly had me. he can’t keep his mouth shut when he’s fucking you either—but it doesn’t really matter, because you’re going too dumb to even understand what he’s saying.

you were feeling so brave today, weren’t you? dabi laughs, but you can barely hear him over the sounds of your own sobs. and i thought we went over how to use our words already! you don’t always have to be such a fucking brat for some attention—you’re so god damn lucky i didn’t decide to just ignore you.

“is mom/ma/ummi okay?” they asked in unison using whatever variation of mom they call you. bruce’s eyes darkened the moment you stormed out the kitchen. however, he controlled the expression before glancing at his kids. 

“she will be. i’m going to go speak with her.” he nods stiffly before heading out the kitchen. he heads towards your room, because you have your own space for when you get in a mood like this. he knocks on the door. 

“go away” you answered from your spot on the bed. 

“it’s funny you think you have a choice darling. open the door” he replied gruffly. you roll your eyes getting up to open the door, looking up at your husband his blue eyes looking like a raging storm. 

“what do you want?” you didn’t get a verbal answer at first, just an irritated look. 

“i want whatever this bratty attitude is to stop” he walks into the room shutting the door. “get on the bed” he sees the defiant spark in your eyes, one quick and hard swat to your ass. “now.” you walked over to your bed sitting on the edge. “i’d fuck the attitude out of you. but you don’t deserve that” he unties his tie making you lay back as he undoes his tie. “lay on your stomach” 

you don’t hesitate to follow orders. you couldn’t resist the commanding tone he had. he ties your hands to the headboard with his tie before pulling your pajama pants and underwear down in one swift movement. 

“you’re going to count and once you’re dripping. i’m going to leave you here tied up and you’re not allowed to touch yourself until i get home. understood?” he grips your chin making you look at him. 

“yes sir” you respond softly your voice lacking the bite you had in it moments ago. 

“not so feisty anymore? you were incredibly mean to me darling. when has that ever been acceptable?” his breath against your ear. 

“never sir” you replied. he nods letting go of your chin. 

“you’re getting 20 and that’s me being generous” the first smack to your ass followed, echoing off the walls in the room. 

“one…two…. three…four….five” the first five done, you bit your lip to prevent the guttural moans that we’re fighting their way to the surface.  his thumb roughly removed your lip from between your teeth before continuing the next series of spankings. “six…seven… eight… nine…. ten…eleven…t-twelve” he stopped when you stuttered slightly running his rough padded fingers along your slit spreading your arousal. “thirteen…fourteen…fifteen…sixteen….s-s-seventeen” seventeen had you scream into your pillow, you know the last three he’s going to make count. you feel like you’re on the edge but you know he isn’t going to let up. “eighteen…nineteen…twenty!” the twentieth spank was straight on your soaked pussy, and it wasn’t a soft one.