Page 51 of Plaything

His eyes looked up, meeting mine. “I know,” he dismissed. “Cum all over my hand,” he urged. He curled his finger in me, making my thighs try to close. He chuckled, “Ah, ah, ah, Cariño, you keep those fucking legs open,” he slapped my thigh.

I covered my mouth again as I came. Whimperes and moans filled the room as I struggled to keep quiet. He continued curling his finger as I came, and my leg over his shoulder started to shake from the intensity.

“That’s a good girl, you look so pretty when you cum,” he praised. I pressed my lips together, quieting my whimpers. Niko smirked, “Awe, look at the mess you made,” he teased, pulling his finger out of me, leaving a slick string between my pussy and his finger.

He smirked, raising his finger to my lips, “Lick my finger clean,” he ordered. “Then thank me,” he added with a challenging grin.

I licked the tip of his finger, tasting myself on him. He looked intrigued as he watched me, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. I didn’t look away from his eyes as I leaned forward, wrapping my lips around his finger. I swirled my tongue around his finger and sucked on it, hopefully making his dick jealous.

I pulled away from him once his hand was clean from my cum. I gave him an innocent smile, “Thank you,” I said quietly.

He stood up from his chair, never looking away from me, as he reached into his front pocket and pulled out my panties that Wyatt had stolen this morning. “Your reward for listening,” he claimed.

I raised my eyebrows, realizing this had been planned since Wyatt took them off me. Wyatt must have passed my panties off to Niko and told him what he asked me to do. It was a test to see if I’d actually do it.

I stood up, my legs slightly wobbly from the orgasm and pulsing between my legs. “And if I wouldn’t have listened?” I questioned, taking my panties from him and sliding them on. I adjusted my dress back to its original position. My flushed face was the only indicator between us that something had happened.

Niko tilted his head, “What’s the opposite of a reward?” He hinted.

I got flashbacks to my childhood. Whenever I stepped a toe out of line or did something I shouldn’t have, my father would take something away from me. Sometimes, it was a toy; other times, it was a meal or freedom to play in the garden. When I got older, it was my car, phone, pillows, blankets, or the freedom to leave my bedroom. Once, when all the cooks were on vacation for a week, and I got home five minutes late due to traffic, he locked the fridge and pantry. He would say, if you want to live in my house and eat my food, you will do exactly as I say. I won’t tolerate any disobedience.

I blinked at Niko, “Are you going to take something away?” I asked, not knowing any other answer. The opposite of reward was having something taken.

Niko pushed his eyebrows together, looking confused by my answer. “No... no, we wouldn’t take anything from you?” He said more as a question. “Why do you think we’d take your stuff?” He asked.

I shrugged, not understanding his confusion. That was what happened when people didn’t listen? “That’s the opposite of reward, isn’t it?”

Niko shook his head, “No. The word I was looking for is punishment,” he said. He tilted his head at me, “Has someone taken things away from you before?” He pushed, a stern look on his face.

I got the overwhelming feeling that having things taken away was not an appropriate punishment. It was something that I hadn’t even questioned until now. Seeing the concerned expression on his face told me all I needed to know. I didn’t want Niko to pity my childhood or know of any of the horrible things Charles had done. I gave him a small smile, holding his hand in mine to ease his concern. “No, it was just the first thing I thought of,” I lied.

He didn’t look convinced but didn’t push it as he nodded. He pulled my body flush against his and kissed me softly. The kiss melted all my worries away and flooded my mind with butterflies.

We heard footsteps in the hall, and I quickly moved away from him, putting a safe distance between us. A group of students walked in, barely glancing at us as they took their seats.

I blushed, widening my eyes at Niko. That was close. A few minutes earlier, they would have caught us with Niko’s head buried between my thighs. I pressed my lips together. “Okay...” I shuffled backward, not knowing how to act. “Thanks for the lesson?” I cringed, and Niko smirked at me, amused at my awkwardness. “I’ll see you at home,” I whispered the last part.

“It was my pleasure,” he grinned, sending me a sneaky wink as I left the classroom, still tingly between my legs.

“Stop judging! I don’t see you trying to make pasta on this darn flamethrower!” I stressed at Cat, who was sitting on the floor a few feet away from me, just watching. I’d been home for a couple of hours now and decided to try making chicken fettuccine for dinner. But the gas stove kept making a flame that was a foot high every time I tried to turn it on.

Niko said it was touchy, not deadly. I was going to burn this place down! How did they manage to cook anything? I’d seen them cook with a low flame many times. How the hell did they manage to do that?! I didn’t want to give up because I really wanted to make them something they’d like. But I also wanted to live.

“Hello?” The front door opened, and I heard a man’s voice, which I didn’t recognize.

I froze, fear taking over me as I stared at Cat, who didn’t care about the intruder at all. My professors shouldn’t be back for another hour, and I was all alone with the worst guard cat ever. No one should be this far out from town unless they had a purpose to be here.

“Did one of y’all get a new fancy-shmancy car?” The man called again, followed by a chuckle. His accent wasn’t exactly southern, but I could tell there was some kind of twang in there.

I grabbed a pair of tongs that I got out to mix the pasta and turn the chicken and slowly walked to the kitchen door. Just as I reached to open the door, it swung open in the opposite direction.

I shrieked, seeing an older man with gray hair. He was slightly heavier and in rugged overalls that had stains all over them.

The man looked just as surprised as me as he stepped a few feet back. He widened his eyes, “Well, I’ll be damned. What are you doin’, sneaking up on me like that,” he took a breath, setting down a vacuum I didn’t realize he was holding.

I held out the tongs in his direction, warning him to stay back. “Who are you?” I questioned, my voice slightly shaken from my scare.

“Sugar, all the knives and shit they got in that kitchen, and you choose meat grabbers?” He chuckled. “What would you have done if I was some lunatic, click ‘em at me?” He shook his head.

---