Page 6 of Playing By Their Rules

“T-twenty,” I say.

“Twenty,” he repeats. Again, nobody moves.

Does that mean twenty spankings? Why isn’t he saying anything or doing anything? I wiggle my ass, trying to rile him up so he’ll give me what I need.

The spank doesn’t come down. I don’t get the humiliating pain I was craving.

I look over at Chance. He’s no longer watching me, but staring at his friend in horror.

“Put her down,” Chance says.

Ethan didn’t need the instruction, though; he’s already yanking my panties back up and smoothing my skirt down over them.

“Wait—what are you doing?” I ask. “I’ve been naughty, Daddy, and you said you were going to punish me.”

“You said you were in the linguistics program,” Ethan growls as he heaves me off of his lap. Gently, though, so I don’t fall over.

I feel wobbly. I was supposed to get the spanking I wanted, the spanking I’ve needed. “That’s my major.”

“You’re not a grad student?” Chance asks.

“No. Undergrad studies.”

“We came into this believing you were a certain age,” Chance says in a low voice. Gone is his playful demeanor. It’s been extinguished by frustration.

“Age is just a number, right?” I give him what I hope is a saucy wink. Maybe we can still salvage this. Reaching for Ethan’s hand, I place it at the hem of my skirt. His throaty growl is a warning. I need to goad him further. I try to move his hand up and in, toward my drenched pussy. I need to feel him there. I crave his touch just as much as he said he’s craving me.

“No,” he says, yanking his hand away. “We might like to play that you’re young, but we like our women single, enthusiastically consenting, and over the age of twenty-five.”

“But I’m here.” I hold my hands out. Am I begging? I feel so desperate, so aroused. I need this. “I want this, you want this.”

Ethan shakes his head. “We don’t want it anymore.”

Ouch. I’ve just been bare-assed in front of two men, begging for them to take me, and they don’t want me.

“Right.” I swallow. I’m grateful that the room is dimly lit, because that means they won’t see the sheen of tears in my eyes.

“It’s nothing about you,” Chance says in a gentle tone, all traces of dominance gone and replaced by something easygoing and friendly. “It’s just one of our three rules. Our play partners have to be single, enthusiastically consenting, and over the age of twenty-five.”

I shake my head. This is humiliating. They’re both looking at me without any of the lust that had been building since I waited on them at the restaurant.

They think I’m a child.

“We’ll call you a car,” Ethan says, standing and pulling his phone from his pocket.

That sizable hard-on I’d felt before is still visible, but he completely ignores it.

“Don’t worry about it, I can find my own way home,” I say.

Chance holds out his hands. “Maisie, don’t be stubborn.”

“Bye. Thanks for…whatever.” I whirl around and leave the room.

They don’t follow me. I wish they would, but they don’t. The whole way down in the elevator, I wipe tears from my eyes and hope nobody’s around in the lobby to see me trying not to cry.

* * *

Chance

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