Two Hundred Dollars Ch. 02

"Other four," she corrected impulsively.

Bailey reached behind her and hooked the waistband of her thong with two fingers, one on either side the little strip of material embedded between her cheeks. Without spreading her legs, she pulled the thong away from her body, prying it out of position, and pushed it down just low enough to count as baring her ass to him.

"Four," she repeated without looking at him. "And they're yours to do."

Kent looked a the little bit of frilly material now dangling between her legs, inhaled deeply, and laid his hand on her right cheek.

"Evening up, then?" she asked.

"So you'll look nice when you check yourself in the mirror," Kent worked hard to steady his voice.

Bailey hummed in response.

"Ready?"

"Mm-hm."

He knew he only had four spankings, which meant covering a little more area with each one. He started on the outside, which worked easily with his right hand on her right cheek.

"Oh," Bailey sounded surprised when he struck. "One!"

As he moved his hand around her rear, Bailey spoke again, "Or should I be saying 'six'?"

Kent paused, "That does seem... better."

"Better?" she looked over her shoulder at him for the first time.

"Yeah," he looked up at the ceiling so he could clear his head. "'Higher numbers' equals 'better'."

"Fine," she faced away from him again, "Six."

Kent slapped her ass again the moment she spoke, hitting her right cheek low.

"Seven."

He struck the middle.

"Eight," Bailey's voice went to a high whisper.

Kent struck high and hard.

"Nine," Bailey sighed and visibly tried to regain control of her breathing.

She did not, however, move from her position. Instead, she reached her hand back and rubbed at her rear. Kent watched her do this, noticing how it didn't look therapeutic but almost diagnostic, as if she tested herself.

Sure enough, she spoke a moment later. "Do another one."

"What?" he asked.

"Another dollar," Bailey qualified nervously. "It'll be a while before we can do this again. I want to get ahead."

Kent shook his head, wondering what her upcoming week looked like that would take up so much time. He realized, though, that the rules they'd made gave her control of the schedule.

"Sure," Kent said, "but you have to make a mark."

"What?" Bailey looked over her shoulder again.

"That's the rule," he clarified. He then recited, trying to match the tone he remembered her using, "You make the mark. Then the spankings. I change the number."

"But I'm already -- here," she stammered, "I have to go and make another mark?"

"Yep," he smiled innocently.

Bailey sighed, pulled her thong back into place between her cheeks, and straightened. With a cynical glare at Kent, she marched the few paces across the hall to his room. Kent watched as her pale cheeks glowed bright white, flaring suddenly as she crossed into the direct light of his room. He heard a dull thump and a rattle as she made a mark on the white board.

Coming back, he had a good look at the front of her panties, translucently displaying the little line of hair covering her lips.

"Satisfied?" she asked and then placed her hands on the washing machine again.

"Rule's a rule," Kent defended himself amicably. "Four or five"

"Five," Bailey replied.

That meant keeping the thong in place, which perplexed Kent. It didn't protect her in any real way, not from his hand or his eyes. With her legs so close together, he couldn't see any more of her whether she wore it or not. But, for some reason, she kept it on and accepted she'd have to endure an extra spanking, even thought she'd already pulled her panties down once, which meant he'd already seen -

Whatever.

He placed his hand on her left cheek, then her right, then back on her left again.

"Make up your mind," she snapped, "Stop groping me."

Kent slapped her left cheek, hard, before she'd even completed her sentence.

"Ha!" she shouted. "One."

"You mean, 'ten'?"

"Right. Ten."

He took the left cheek again.

"Eleven."

And again.

"Twelve. Not letting up, huh?"

"My spankings, you said."

"Right," she acknowledged.

He let her have two more slaps, low on her left cheek.

"Thirteen! Fourteen!" she cried out. "Okay, I think that's enough."

Bailey stood up and faced him in the darkened hallway. She stepped up to him until their bodies touched, a defiant look in her eyes as she glared up into his. Kent became extremely aware of where she pressed against him. His erection, hard but currently pointed downwards due to the tightness of his boxers, pressed right up against the centre of her translucent panties.

"Don't forget to mark the board," she said, gave him a little push with her hips to force him back half a step, then walked past him.

"Huh," Kent exhaled.

He expected to see her go in and out of his room, but by the time he turned around, he only caught a glimpse of her bare butt before she disappeared into her own room farther down the hall.

"But your -" he called out as the door closed "-pants."

With a mental shrug, Kent adjusted his shorts and went back to his bedroom. He picked up Bailey's jeans off the floor where they'd fallen, folded them neatly and put them on the corner of his dresser. He supposed she could come and pick them up when she felt like it. For now, he had to take care of himself.

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Bailey collapsed on her bed the moment she reached it and jammed the her favourite pillow into her crotch immediately after. Her left cheek felt hot and raw, so she didn't even try to touch herself back there.

Kent, she thought, only Kent can do this.

She had tried going to a bar, last Saturday, looking for someone else, anyone else, but no one fit the bill. The bar had a number of guys who didn't qualify. It offered up creeps she didn't want to go near. It hosted big lugs that might spank her too hard, and douchey guys she couldn't even stand talking to.

Ugh.

But Kent, calmly, patiently, slapped away at her cheeks. Kent would follow her wherever she wanted to be taken and spank her whenever she liked.

Besides, I owe him money. And that settles that.

She moaned, driving her hips down hard on the edge of the pillow, remembering when he'd made her walk back to his room, mostly naked, and put one more mark on his board.

Because that's the rule.

Kent had made her follow the rule. Kent understood about rules. They had that between them, the thing with rules.

Bailey reached under her body to grip the pillow so it couldn't slide out of the way while she spread her legs and pushed down hard on it. She lifted away and came down hard again, remembering the feeling when she'd pushed herself against his erect penis, using her anger as an excuse to get right up in his face.

I turned you on. I know I did and I felt it.

She slammed herself down on the pillow and a mewling cry forced itself from her lips as her muscles seized up and her orgasm shuddered through her body.

With a sigh, she fell on her side.

A stark realization hit her regarding the location of her jeans. With a soft, fading look in her eyes, she imagined creeping into his bedroom in the morning to retrieve them, quietly dressing in front of him while he woke up.

The imagining of that moment coasted her softly off to sleep.