Page 49 of Wrestling with Daddy

It smelled too good to take a punishment seriously, Nathan thought for a fleeting moment.

Given how his mouth dried the second those brown eyes were piercing back through him, though, he eradicated the thought from his mind.

“Do you think the food is gonna stay warm?” Nathan had never been good at keeping his mouth shut. His professors had always said that could be what set him apart as a journalist—his brand or whatnot. He wasn’t always sure the same applied in other areas.

Thankfully, Ken didn’t scold him; he didn’t even acknowledge the question, instead sitting down on the edge of the bed and just patting his thigh.

There wasn’t a need for anything else, but Nathan was still blushing furiously as he obeyed, crawling to him. He lay down so his ass was perked up against his thigh, his elbows planted as firmly as it was humanly possible against the mattress.

“I get extra chocolate after, right? I mean, I just came here without a peep.”

Ken didn’t answer this time, either. At least, not verbally. Nathan was pretty sure the sharp sting of his hand connecting with Nathan’s ass was a response on its own.

He was also pretty sure that one was not part of the so-called punishment.

“When I punish you,” Ken kept his voice low but hard, “the only times I want you talking is if you want to use your safe word, if I’ve told you to count, if you’re thanking me, or if I’ve asked you a question.”

“Got it,” Nathan breathed. “I use the red, yellow, green system, by the way.”

“Good.” Ken massaged the area he’d just hit as if it was second nature. He ignored Nathan’s sharp intake of breath and his ass pulling back to hunt for more contact. “I’m going to pull down your pants now.”

Right.

That first slap had happened over the denim fabric, and Nathan had already felt like all air left his lungs.

That was how he learned he was in for a whole lot of trouble.

“Okay,” he still acquiesced, lifting his hips to make it easier for Ken.

“Now,” Ken spoke, his hand still kneading and massaging the skin far too casually not to be suspicious. “I know this is rather new, but I need you to tell me why I’m punishing you. And I want you to tell me how many spanks you think you deserve.”

“What?” Nathan blanched, turned his head to look at Ken because there was surely something he was missing.

Not once had he had to decide on his own punishment.

Truthfully, even as he squirmed and his cock begged for the chance to rub against any surface available, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“Don’t worry,” Ken’s gaze turned soft as he watched him. “This, though, is part of your punishment. I’ve learned that it makes boys listen more when they have to think real hard about the consequences of their actions.”

Huh.

That could make sense, Nathan guessed. His brain felt weird, though, both too sluggish and overworking itself to string a sentence together.

“I… I should’ve asked for help when I got overwhelmed with the menu. I probably shouldn’t have ordered for you just like that. And I… I know I shouldn’t have ran away.”

“What else?”

Ken pinched the skin where his ass and thigh met. The sting ran up his spine, making Nathan cry out.

Not that Daddy cared.

Nathan huffed.

“Uh… I spent too long in the bathroom?”

He didn’t know.

The only thing he knew at that moment—the only thing that mattered enough to make it through that fog in his brain—was pain and the way it stirred awake and calmed every nerve in his system.