Chapter 90

Emma knocked on Mike’s door a half hour later. He opened it and turned away without so much as a word. Emma entered and closed the door behind her.

“Um, is there anyone else home?” Emma asked. Mike answered without looking at her.

“No, my parents went out to dinner, then were headed to a movie for their ‘Date Night.’ They won’t be back until late.” He sat down on a love seat in the living room without inviting Emma to sit.

“So,” he continued. “What did you need to come over here for?” He wore a scowl on his face.

Emma swallowed hard.

“Mike, I can’t tell you how sorry I am and how much I want to make things up to you-”

“So you said. Prove it,” Mike said, cutting her off. “Take off your clothes. Now. Right there.”

“Oh, O-Ok,” Emma said. She wasn’t entirely shocked by that after sending him the picture but also wasn’t expecting that level of directness. She pulled off her clothes in record time and tossed them on the couch to her left. Naked in Mike’s living room, she stood silently at attention while he just stared at her, looking over her body.

“Shit, you really did write that on yourself. What did you use?” he asked. His tone had lost a bit of its nasty edge.

“Sha-Sharpie,” Emma stammered.

“You know that permanent marker doesn’t come off of skin, right?”

Emma did NOT. The thought had not occurred to her at all in her panicked state before. She shook her head, eyes wide.

“I have two friends,” Mike told her casually, “that are roommates. And idiots, both of them. One of them wrote ‘Dummy’ on the forehead of the other while he was sleeping. As a gag, for no reason. With permanent marker. The second friend had to have his sister show him how to cover it up with makeup for a month. He scrubbed it every night for that month before he could finally get it faded enough. Idiots.” He chuckled to himself and shook his head.

He finally stood up and walked over to Emma. Emma tensed up but didn’t move or speak. She noted that he had a distinct bulge in the front of his pants; apparently, the young stud was able to get it up again even after cumming twice earlier in the day.

He took his finger and traced a few of the letters on her belly. The touch made her shiver.

“Turn around and bend over. Grab your ankles,” Mike said. He then left the room, heading for the kitchen.

She wasn’t sure what was next, but she sure wasn’t about to refuse. She liked that he had lost enough anger to tell her that story.

With her belly, Emma couldn’t bend over enough to actually grab her ankles, so she grabbed her shins and hoped that would be good enough. She heard drawers opening and closing in the kitchen, along with rustling sounds.

She couldn’t see Mike from her position when he returned but didn’t dare stand back up. She heard nothing for a full thirty seconds before she heard the swishing noise. The noise was followed a split second later by the explosive pain in her ass cheek.

“Eeee!” she shrieked, leaping up and grabbing her backside, rubbing the spot where, with what she now saw was a wooden mixing spoon, he had struck her. Mike stood passively, arms crossed, holding the spoon.

“When you’re finished,” he said calmly, “you can bend back over.”

It took Emma a few seconds to recover, but she nodded quickly in acknowledgement.

Taking a deep breath, she walked back to him and bent over again.

“Thank you, sir,” Emma said, sniffling a bit. Sir? Why had she called him ‘sir’? Why had she thanked him? She didn’t know the answer to either, but luckily Mike didn’t comment on it.