Page 196 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

She squeals sweetly, then accommodates as I pump her pussy harder than ever before. Fisting her hair, I pull back her head and bite down on her throat, eliciting something between a cry and a moan from her parted lips.

My hand under her butt finds her tight hole between her ass cheeks. Untouched. For now. Not forever. I gather slick juices from her stretched channel then push a finger inside, pumping both her holes.

“Come for me, bunny.”

“I hate you,” she sobs, but she’s so horny it doesn’t take more than another breath before she comes apart, her pussy and ass spasming around me. She still gasps and quivers when I lift her off me and force her to her knees. Pushing my cock in her mouth I come in the next instant, spurting deep inside. Never broke her in there before.

Neither.

Maybe I shouldn’t have done that while riled up, but as with most in life, it’s too late now.

Come spills down on her sweater as I pull out. She stands, rejecting my hand, then wipes her mouth while her eyes blaze. Not with the same exhilaration I’m used to.

I push down the pitiful pinch in my chest. I hold out my hand again. “Come, bunny. I’ll help you clean up in the shower and then choose a set of new clothes. Back home, you’ll pack your stuff. It’s time to hit the road. I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Wait for me at noon by the corner down your street. Tell Gracie whatever you want, but you’re coming.”

For months, I’ve conditioned her to obey me. I don’t expect anything else now.

“No.”

My insides freeze in shock, then the chill is replaced by heat and anger. “No what?”

“I’m not going.” Her hands on her hips, her face flushed, my come on her sweater, she’s a vision of defeat and unexpected strength in one.

I’m on her in a flash, my hands on either side of her head, pushing her back up against the wall.

“The fuck? I am taking you with me. Not gonna let you out of my sight for the rest of our lives. That’s how much I feel. Since you asked. Pack. Your. Fucking. Stuff! This isn’t the time or place to—”

A deep, shaky sob, then she ducks under my arm and runs. She doesn’t stop to put on shoes or a jacket. The front door slams open, and then the house is suddenly dead quiet.

“What the fuck? Summer!” I roar.

I dart out of bed, drag up my jeans, make a brief stop to pull on my boots, and then I’m out.

I catch sight of her back, her purple sweater easy to distinguish in between the trees. She has already covered quite some distance on her quick, light feet. Setting off in her direction, I shout her name again. It echoes forever between the faraway mountains.

“Bunny, don’t run!”

I’m faster, but she’s more used to the terrain, and she disappears further and further. I stop when I lose sight of her but know that I can still find my own way back. She won’t get lost here, knowing this place like her own pocket, but I will.

Making my way back home, my steps heavier with each moment, I grab the bottle of whisky from before, some cheap Grant’s, sink down on the porch and wait.

She’ll run it out of her system. Then she’ll be back.

The bottle drained, the sun gone, I realize she won’t. I stand. My eyes fall on her dark green backpack that lies behind me on the hallway floor, and the hurt, the fear of losing her, strikes me hard. It’s as if I’m being gutted alive.

I can’t leave her out there. It’s cold. There are animals. She can stumble and hurt herself. She might know the woods, but without light she’s in trouble. I grab two jackets—one for her and one for me—find a flashlight, stuff her shoes in her backpack that I hoist on my back, then I take off. I leave all the lights on in my house, hoping it will help guide us back.

The shadows are deeper in the dancing beam from the flashlight. There are sniffles and snarls, twigs that crack and leaves that rattle, right outside the periphery of the light. I shout her name as I delve deeper into the woods.

Nothing.

Nothing, nothing, and more nothing.

Finally, I’m forced to turn around. Back at the house, I hope against all hopes that she’ll be there.

Nothing.

I throw the backpack and extra jacket into the hallway. They land haphazardly on the floor. Slamming the door shut, I then hop on my bike and drive all the way to town. Her mom’s at home, the lights are on in both rooms. Climbing the fire escape on the building opposite theirs, I get a good look of their place. I wait for a long time. Not a lot happens. She eats, does the dishes, and watches TV. No Summer.

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