His balls tightened at that. “So, what does your daddy do when you talk back?”
She tipped her head down and glanced up at him from under heavy eyelids. “Sends me to bed without supper.”
“Bet you’re hungry, then.”
“Yes,” she hissed softly.
“Bet I know what that little whore mouth is hungry for. What it’s always hungry for.” Sig took another step closer until he was boot to bare toe with her. “Get on your knees for your punishment.”
Grabbing her blue dress in both hands, she pulled it up her sweet, thick thighs and dropped to her knees on the hard dirt.
“You know what to do.”
Becky unbuckled his belt, unfastened his jeans and slowly unzipped them.
He could hear how ragged her breathing was. A slow grin spread across his face.
He yanked that black cap from her head and tossed it on a nearby straw bale. Then tore his fingers through her hair, the pins popping loose and falling to the ground. Her thick, long hair tumbled around her, hiding her pretty face.
He grabbed a fistful and jerked it hard until her face was lifted to his, then he ripped it back, arching her neck and making her cry out softly.
He stroked his fingers down the front of her throat where the skin was taut from the strain of her neck.
Her hands hadn’t stopped working, and within seconds, his dick was throbbing within her fingers. She began to fist him, her eyes getting hotter as she was forced to meet his. Her mouth gaped and she panted.
“Your daddy needs to teach you a lesson on back-talkin’, don’t he?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to speak fresh like that.”
“Too fuckin’ late for sorries,” he mumbled.
He pulled his dick from her hands, slid the head slick with precum across her mouth and when she opened it wider, he plunged inside.
She gagged immediately, like she always did, until she got used to how deep he fucked her face.
Now grabbing two handfuls of hair, he dipped his head down to watch her as he began to thrust. Little whimpers escaped her every time he went deep. Tears began to form in her eyes and slip from the corners. Her mouth was stretched, her cheeks bellowed in and out with each thrust and her face turned almost purple. She gagged again as he drove deep between her lips, faster and harder, strings of spit beginning to cling to his dick.
When she reached up to grab the root, he pushed her hand away. They’d done this enough times, he knew her limit but he’d take her right to that very edge. Still, he allowed her to grip his balls, her fingers circling the base of them tight, her short nails digging into the delicate skin.
But, fuck, he got off on that, handing her that power when on the surface it seemed she had none. One good fucking squeeze to his sac from her and he’d be right next to her on his knees.
The more he pumped into her hot, wet mouth, the closer he was getting to popping one of those nuts, so he slowed, let her breathe a little bit, then stopped.
He slipped from her.
“Why did you stop?” she asked him, wiping off the spit clinging to her lips and chin and drying her cheeks with the hem of her ugly dress. At least it was good for something.
“You know why.”
“Because I’ve been bad.” Like the obedient bitch she was, she nodded and got to her feet as Sig slid his belt from the loops of his jeans which were now down around his ankles and gathered above his boots.
“What d’you do besides talk back?”
“I pushed my little sister and made her fall.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“Because I like when Daddy punishes me,” she whispered.
And, Jesus fuck, didn’t that almost make him shoot his fucking load across the stall.
He folded the black leather strap in half, snapped the loop sharply together once, and waited.
“And how does your daddy punish you for hurtin’ your sister?”
Her cheeks became even darker and her blue eyes glittered as she stared hungrily at the belt in his hands. “He spanks me with a leather strap.”
This was one of the games they played. Only it wasn’t a fucking game.
This was something Becky needed and Sig was more than willing to give it to her.
In fact, he more than liked giving it to her and needed it, too. Because sometimes the fire raging inside him could become so out-of-control that this was the only thing that helped contain it.
Too bad she was Amish and already spoken for to a man who would most likely never give Becky what she needed.
The only thing he’d give her was fucking brats and lots of them.
As soon as one popped out, he’d want her belly full with the next one. Her future husband had a large farm and needed help to work it.