PT 66: Such A Brat

“Not talking to me, huh?” You can hear a smile in Grisham’s voice. “You’re such a brat, I swear to god.”

“Am not,” you mutter into the bedding.

“Oh yes you are. You practically beg for a spanking and when you get it, you pout. Well you can cut out the sulking, because it’s not going to work with me. I gave you a choice. Ask me nicely to make it feel better, or you can go stand back in the corner again.”

You let out a little whimpering whine. Grisham really doesn’t let you get away with anything. It’s so unfair. And it makes you squirm where you lie, your hips moving in a little wriggle dance you really can’t seem to contain.

“Okay,” she says, pulling her hand away. “Back to the corner.”

“No!” You flip halfway over onto your side and grasp her forearm with both hands. “Ow!” You complain as the side of your bottom meets the bed. “I mean, please don’t make me stand over there.”

Grisham glances down at her arm, then looks at you. “What exactly are you doing, girl?”

“Uhm…” you let her arm go with a sheepish little half grin. “I don’t know.”

Your butt hurts, but not as bad as it did before, and you like the way her warm brown eyes hold you as she stays sitting next to you. You’re now basically squirming half naked next to her, the warmth of your bottom being transmitted to a familiar warmth between your thighs, a naughty, excited sort of heat that changes the mood.

“I’m seeing where Terra ran into trouble with you,” she says, reaching out to push some stray hair out of your eyes. “You’re just too damn cute to be dealt with like you need to be, aren’t you.”

“I hope so.”

“Oh I bet you do,” she chuckles as she reaches out, slips her hand behind your shoulder and pushes you back down into your original position. Her palm slides down your back and finds your hot rear cheeks. She starts to rub you slowly, her fingers dipping into your panty filled crevice every now and then as she soothes the heat away. “Now I want you to promise me that you’re going to watch your mouth, especially when I’m dealing with you on disciplinary matters. You don’t want to end up gagged, do you?”

You turn your head to look at her, wide eyed. “You wouldn’t…”

“Uh huh,” she says. “You keep pushing me, no matter how cute you are, and there’s always another level of trouble for you to find. You’re the one who decides how sore your bottom gets, or whether or not you end up with a thick strap of rubber between your teeth to keep you quiet.”

There’s a smile on her face, but she’s definitely not playing. Terra said no canes and no marks, but she never said no gags, and you’re starting to realize that Grisham has the capacity and the time to get as inventive with you as she needs to.

What do you reckon, cadet?

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