Page 9 of Ryker

Chapter 9: Corinne

I can't decide if I want to win or lose. Everything in me says win, except that traitorous beast between my legs who keeps whispering, 'But what if you lose, just this once?' She's got a mind of her own and the only thing she's interested in is finding out if Ryker's cock has grown since that one time I saw in middle school by accident. We were getting ready to go to the city pool and I walked in on him getting dressed. I stood there for approximately five seconds staring at his penis, trying to determine if what I was looking at was his penis, before he shooed me out of the room. I could only hope that it'd gotten bigger since then.

Since making fun of Ryker was now off the table, dinner was now a thousand times less fun. In fact, I find that half of my conversation topics are null and void. He says something civil and I scramble to respond without inadvertently making a joke about him that he'd deem as sassy. It's not that I want to insult him, that's just how I've flirted with him all my life. Changing your whole demeanor towards a person is difficult. I spend a good five minutes contemplating losing just so I can be me again; I think we'd both appreciate that, after all.

"Are you feeling like a cookie?" He asks after we finish dinner.

"Why? Do I look like one?" I shoot back, because sassy or not, I'm fairly certain it doesn't break the rules.

Ryker clucks his tongue and smiles at me. "Someone is having withdrawal symptoms. You doing okay over there? Need to phone a friend?"

I consider calling Alexandra for half a second before I realize that Ryker is messing with me, then I narrow my eyes at him. "Hey now! That's not fair!" I call out to him from the living room. He's left me to presumably get cookies. "You can't be mean to me if I'm not allowed to be mean to you!" I can hear the whininess in my tone, but I don't care anymore.

He pokes his head out of the kitchen wearing that cute little smile that lights up his face. "I didn't say you couldn't be mean, Corinne, you can do whatever you want. You're the one who decided to play the game. I just said that if you do it, you're going to get spanked." Then comes the wink, which turns my stomach into a butterfly sanctuary.

At the time, the game sounded like fun. Then the more I thought about it, the more anxious and excited I became. I wanted to win and lose at the same time. I wanted to win because of who I am as a person, but I wanted to lose because I wanted to see what those hands could do. Really, I was struck by a heady mix of my own confusing feelings and it was immensely unfair. Judy Blume books don't tell you how to handle this kind of pressure!

"Okay, just do it," I announce when he comes back to the table with a plate of cookies and a couple glasses of milk.

Ryker stops in his tracks, the plate inches away from the table and the smile on his face waning. "Excuse me. What?"

I close my eyes and think about what I've just said. I'm terrible about blurting out what's on my mind and since he left me in complete silence for a grand total of two minutes, I've had plenty of time to consider my options. "You're right. Don't do it." Oh god. Now he's laughing at me.

"Corinne, are you okay?" He sets the milk and cookies down and takes a seat next to me.

"No, I'm torn." I throw myself back against the couch with a heavy and dramatic sigh. "This is torture. Is this what you wanted? To torture me? I'm being tortured, Ryker."

He places one of those strong hands on my thigh and rubs it gently and suddenly I'm back in. I want to feel it on other parts of my body. I want to know if it feels just as good. I'm about to tell him this when he gives me a firm squeeze and tells me we don't have to play the game anymore. "It was just for a bit of fun, Corinne. If you don't like it, we don't have to play. I just thought it'd be funny since you're always trying to bust my balls over something or another, which is usually nothing."

I mean, he's not wrong. I grab his hand, which has moved to my upper thigh and is drawing cute little shapes and patterns that I can't decipher but are driving me crazy. "You win, Ryker. Don't you get it? Spank me." Why do I sound like a needy woman who's begging to get fucked?

"But you haven't said anything sassy yet," he says with a raised eyebrow.

"You're an idiot." I blurt because that's how I feel now.

Ryker blinks at me in a way that makes me wonder if he's slow. "You're not even trying. You're just giving up the win. It's no fun when you just give up."

Now I just want to punch him in the face again. Either he's being deliberately obtuse, or he was genuinely hoping to win this game. "I think the smoke inhalation is doing some serious damage to your brain cells. Take me home. I've got a vibrator that doesn't ask any questions when I say 'give it to me'."

"Wow, okay, let's unpack that statement. First, you've definitely earned yourself a spanking now." He says with a sly smile, even though I already told him he won. "Second, you'll have to show me that vibrator sometime, sweet cheeks." A quick wink tells me that he's not kidding and my vibrator might get to make a new friend. "Third, I'll give you whatever you want."

This was exactly the man I was looking for when I conceded victory. I don't like to lose, but if I'm going to, I might as well lose to someone who's going to ravage me. I didn't exactly have a large history of men to compare Ryker to, but I could already tell that the three of them were nothing compared to the firefighter I was about to get down and dirty with.

Ryker grabs my wrist and begins pulling it gently toward him. I frown at him as I find myself being pulled across the couch. "What are you doing?"

"You earned yourself a spanking yesterday, missy, and then you lost the game today that earned you another one. I'm only giving you want you deserve." He answers as he begins to drape me over his lap. The couch is comfortable and the soft blanket from earlier is there for me to bury my face in, but that doesn't stop my nerves from getting the best of me. "Are you ready?"

I feel anxious if that's what he's asking. "Is this going to hurt?"

This earns me a laugh. "I promise it'll only hurt in a good way."

I was never spanked as a kid, so I have nothing to compare this to. I had some boyfriends give me a couple of love taps during sex, but those have nothing on Ryker. He pulls up the hem of my dress and I can feel the cool air of the room over my bare bottom.

"God damn," Ryker mumbles. "I thought you were joking about not wearing panties,"

"I never wear panties," I shrug, looking back at him. "Visible panty lines are a crime, Ryker. And camel toe? I don't think so. Wedgies? Not for me. Plus, the look on your face right now? Priceless." Before I have the chance to turn back around, he raises his hand and gives me a firm slap on the bottom. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but the sting is a pleasurable pain that sends a desirable shock through my body. I squeeze my thighs together and turn back around to face the side of the couch. His promise wasn't wrong.

"Your ass is gorgeous," he compliments before giving it another round of applause that makes me shudder with delight.

I can feel my pussy dampen with desire. I don't know who this man is or how long he's been doing this, but he's got an unbeatable technique. He keeps up a steady rhythm of one swat every ten seconds or so, at just enough of a sting where it borders pain and pleasure. After a couple of minutes, I find myself rising to meet his hand, like a woman who can't get enough. What is he doing to me?

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