the cushy sheltered way of life was really no fun

[forthsofar]

She's kept quiet about it. Not because of any worry or concern, not because she feels as though she's done anything wrong--indeed, in a way this feels the furthest thing from incorrect. There's just been a lot to think about, thoughts and feelings and needs that she's been turning over in her head and trying to parse out on her own before she brings them up with either Nick or Sabrina. She'll need to, because they're the cause of it all, the ones that sparked that odd blossoming warmth within her as they asked questions that held just the barest edge of command behind them.

It could be that she's understanding it all wrong, her relative inexperience turning words murmured in the heat of passion into something that feels more weighty than it is. But somehow, she doesn't think so. Whether she's misunderstood or not, though, Rosie wants to be sure of herself, and sure of what she wants. As she'd been told before, so many times, that's the only way this works.

After a few days of thought, she's ready to open the conversation, and given that they already had plans this afternoon, Nick seems the perfect person to start with. Settled on his couch and entwined under a blanket, they watch--well, mostly--the season premiere of that awful witch show Nick had fallen in love with during his convalescence, the both of them laughing and shouting things at the screen. Once it's over, Rosie reaches for the remote control, clicking the television off.

"Nick," she says softly, a flutter of uncertainty starting up in the pit of her stomach, something she tries to ignore. She turns in his arms until she can press a kiss to his mouth. "Could I...there's something I wanted to talk to you about." Realizing how that might sound only once it's out, her eyes widen, just slightly. "Something...I think it's something good, I promise."

Comments

[awickedtime]

Nick breaks the kiss with an audible, filthy noise.

"I want you to go into the bedroom and strip down to your underwear then get up on the bed on all fours," he says. "Understood?"

[forthsofar]

There's something so immediately commanding that slips into his tone, and it makes Rosie's head spin. She stares at him for a moment, dazed, but then she's nodding, another of those frantic bobs of her head that sends a curl tumbling across one eye. "Y-yes, Nick," she says. "Anything you want."

She disentangles herself from him and from the blanket, getting up from the couch, then starts towards the bedroom on slightly shaky legs. Once there, she pulls off her sweater and undoes her skirt, peels off the tights she's been wearing now that the weather has turned chillier, before folding all three items neatly and laying them on the chair in the corner of Nick's room. Left only in her bra and panties, both a soft blue, she arranges herself on all fours atop Nick's bed, her head facing the door to the room.

[awickedtime]

A moment or two later, Nick follows, leaning against the doorframe and studying her for a moment.

"Turn around," he instructs. "Show me your ass."

[forthsofar]

Rosie whimpers softly, just once, then turns in a slow circle on the bed until she's facing away from him. She can practically feel the weight of his eyes on her; wants so badly to look back over her shoulder, to catch sight of him again, but she stays just as she is, trembling on her hands and knees.

[awickedtime]

"First, we need to go over some rules for this sort of thing. You get to set your own limits and if you tell me stop, I will, okay? We're going to use traffics for that. Red means stop, green means keep going, and amber means you just need me to slow down a little." He walks up to the foot of the bed.

"Pull your panties down."

[forthsofar]

"Red, green, a-and amber," she repeats, nodding again, this time more firmly so he'll know she understands. "I'll remember, and...and I'll stop you if I need to. When I need to."

She can hear the tread of his feet as he approaches, can practically feel each footstep as a throbbing sort of need between her own legs. "Yes, Nick," she says, shifting just enough to start pushing her panties down over the curve of her ass until they're tangled around her thighs.

[awickedtime]

Nick pauses for a moment, just enjoying the pale curve of Rosie's bare ass. He goes to a drawer in his dresses and produces a blindfold, moving to the bed and slipping out over her eyes.

"Take your bra off."

[forthsofar]

She lets out a faint gasp of surprise as the blindfold slips down over her eyes, leaving her in darkness, but the brush of Nick's fingers as he adjusts it into place is enough to settle her.

"You might have asked me to before you blindfolded me," she murmurs when he gives his next order, just the slightest hint of impertinence in her voice. Shifting up onto her knees, she reaches back and unclasps her bra, stripping it off and dropping it in what she thinks is the direction of the edge of the bed. After a pause to show off a little, arching her back and squirming for him, Rosie moves once again to all fours.

[awickedtime]

The slap he lands on her ass is little more than a tap.

"Less of that tone," he says. "Be a good girl."

[forthsofar]

"Nick!" Rosie jumps a little at the slap, light as it is, her face growing hot with astonishment and humiliation. And something else, as more of that familiar, needy heat coils in her belly. She swallows hard.

"I'll...I'm sorry, I'll be good."

[awickedtime]

"What do you think will happen if you're not good?" He asks, bending over the bed and bushing himself with rolling her panties the rest of the way down and peeling them off altogether.

[forthsofar]

"Y-you'll..." Her breath hitches as Nick slides her panties further down and at the way he moves her, the firm pressure of his hand on her legs, in order to pull them off fully. "I don't know for sure, but I think you'll punish me somehow."

[awickedtime]

That leaves her naked on all fours, wearing nothing except the blindfold. The affect it has on him is undeniable and he had to pause for a moment.

"Girls who can't be good get spanked, Rosie. Say it."

[forthsofar]

Rosie thinks she can hear something tense in his voice, some spark of hunger or heat. Whether she's imagining it or not is immaterial; either way, it makes her stomach flip and gets her just slightly wetter between her thighs.

"Girls who can't...who can't be good," she starts, then stops, breathing out a quiet whine as she hangs her head, her face flushing scarlet. "They get spanked."

[awickedtime]

He likes the angle of her head, the way she hesitates but say it anyway.

"Spread your legs properly, Rosie," he instructs. "Show me everything."

[forthsofar]

She'd been keeping her legs only slightly parted, her stance on the bed a little trembling and tense. Catching her lip in her teeth, she inhales a shaky breath, then nods, sliding her legs far enough apart to put herself on display.

[awickedtime]

"Good girl," he says, settling on the bed behind her and squeezing her ass with both hands, spreading her cheeks to utterly expose her. "This suits you."

[forthsofar]

The praise sinks warm and almost comforting in her chest--a feeling dashed only a minute later by the insistent pressure of his hands on her backside, spreading her in a way she'd never felt before. "Nick, what are you..." she blurts out, her tone high and startled.

It takes a moment, one full of effort and a reminder that she can stop this with a word whenever she chooses to, but when she speaks again her voice is quieter, more obedient. Just like the good girl she ought to be for him. "Th-thank you, Nick."

[awickedtime]

He holds her spread like that for a moment, letting her feel how exposed she is, and then he takes his hands away.

"Put your cheek down on the bed and spread yourself like that for me, Rosie."

[forthsofar]

"Oh good grief, this is ridiculous," she says, a note of sharp rebellion--the kind of thing she knows he doesn't want to hear from her right now--threading itself back into her voice. "Why do you even want to see me do that, Nick? It's...it's obscene."

[awickedtime]

Nick clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, disapproving.

"What did I say about that tone of voice, Rosie?" He shifts, sitting on the edge of the bed and then taking hold of her, manhandling her into position until she's over his lap, hair hanging over the blindfold, ass in the air.

[forthsofar]

That click of his tongue sounds like a warning, but one that comes just a hair too late.

"You said you wanted to hear less of it, not none at all," she says, and when he grabs her, Rosie knows immediately she ought to have stayed quiet. She yelps and struggles as he puts her into position, and by the time he's finished she's certain her face is redder than it's ever been. Shifting her hips, feeling the rough denim of Nick's jeans against her thighs, she tries to settle as comfortably as she can.

[awickedtime]

"Remind me," says Nick, fondling her ass, squeezing. "Remind me what happens to girls who can't do what they're told."

[forthsofar]

Her body betrays her almost the moment he starts fondling her; another blossom of heat and want between her legs, the way she squirms unthinkingly into the touch instead of away. Her jaw tenses, just for a moment, and she breathes out a slow, careful breath.

"They get...they get spanked, Nick."

[awickedtime]

"They do," he says and then he slaps her ass. It takes him a moment to find a rhythm, hitting her hard enough to sting, but not too hard.