Bubbles

---

I love long rides with my brothers, and gliding through the stunning colors of the North Georgia Mountains on ribbons of winding road with my Half-pint holding on behind me had my heart soaring higher and faster than the bikes.

The original plan had us going to North Carolina for this ride, but when my parole officer wouldn’t give me permission to leave the state, my brothers had moved the ride to Georgia. I had permission to be in Chattanooga since I worked here, but not the rest of Tennessee. Technically, the day trip to Fall Creek Falls the week before had been pushing those limits, but my Atlanta attorney had given his okay for it, and so had Zeke. I fully trusted my Atlanta attorney — he’d gotten me an amazingly short sentence when you take into account the evidence against me, and then helped get me moved into minimum security for the last couple of years. I was learning to trust Zeke, too.

I wouldn’t be on parole forever, but I’d never legally be able to own a gun again. Society in general wanted to make me feel like less than a person, as if I don’t count, don’t deserve my life, but Lexi had never treated me that way. Neither did my brothers.

I think the club expected Lex to have trouble roughing it, but she was relaxed and chilled about everything. She pulled her hair into what I’ve learned is called a messy bun, wore a black hoodie she apparently bought for the occasion, and her new prop vest over it. She chilled around the fire, and I have no idea how she managed to get her makeup perfect the next morning, but she did.

However, she had a meltdown the first night, when she realized we were going to have sex in the tent, where everyone could hear.

“You don’t think the supernaturals can hear every word spoken in the living quarters downstairs? Walls don’t stop sound for us, Half-pint.”

Her whole body had turned red, but she’d stopped arguing. She’d tried to stay quiet, but ten minutes in I’d turned her inside out and my girl can’t be quiet when she orgasms.

I’d warned her ahead of time she was going to have to spend at least an hour a day on her studies, so when she argued with me Sunday morning, I turned her naked ass over my lap, spanked her until she was crying, sat her back on her side of the air mattress, and said, “Let’s try this again. You need to get your schoolwork taken care of before we get up and start moving around.”

“I don’t like you right now.”

“I’m not a big fan of your attitude at the moment, but I still love you. Get your Chromebook out and study. Now.”

We’d brought several large batteries so we could all keep our electronics charged, and I’d made sure her Chromebook charged overnight. I’d also made sure she’d downloaded the material she needed before we left town, so she’d be able to work offline.

I honestly don’t know if any of the ol’ladies brought it up to her later. There’s no doubt everyone heard it, even the humans, but Lexi knew the consequences for refusing to study. Perhaps she thought I wouldn’t follow through because of location, and I hope she learned otherwise and won’t have to test me again.

As for her snooze button habit, I’d had to admit that she did, indeed, wake up better after hitting it once. I also noticed she woke up to the natural light in the tent and could form entire sentences without coffee while we roughed it, despite being slightly hung over. It gave me an idea, but I needed to check into it, and maybe talk to Brain.

The sweetbutts rode in the vans that carry our camping equipment and some basic roadside mechanical repair tools, and they usually warm the bed of the unattached brothers. As usual, Dawg had a couple of women in his tent when we awakened the next morning, and I noted Bobcat had several as well. We tend to have about the right amount in the clubhouse, but it seemed they’d all come on the trip, and it’s possible we had too many.

I can’t explain the separation between ol’ladies and sweetbutts, but it’s there. My little Half-pint wasn’t having it, though. She liked Hot Pocket, and she knew her from the restaurant, so she talked to her. I noticed the other ol’ladies looking at Lexi like she’d lost her mind, but I didn’t intercede. My ol’lady would find her own way.

Nothing extraordinary happened on the trip. We camped on farmland we had permission to be on — private land, not a government owned park, which meant we could drink and get as raucous as we wanted. We rode, we partied, we bonded, we fucked, we slept, we ate, and we rode home.

But Lexi fit into the ol’ladies despite the fact she was blazing her own trail to do it. They liked her, she liked them. I also noted she spent a lot of time with Sparkie, and my heart was at peace.

Lexi

---

After the trip, I felt more at home in the clubhouse, in the restaurant, and even hanging out with our neighbors at home, because they were the MC, too.

While we were on the trip, Matty had me let my hair down and put a cute outfit on, and he did a little photo shoot of me blowing those old-fashioned kiddie bubbles. He told me to trust him, he had plans, but he wouldn’t tell me what. I went along with it because he’s so adorable — and I could tell he was up to no good, and I’m a sucker for that sort of thing.

But then I forgot to ask him about it later, so when it finally came up, it caught me out of the blue. But that was much later.

Sunday — once the spanking and studying were over — was fun. There was breakfast, and then just sitting around talking, and then everyone packed up and we rode home through the most beautiful fall colors I’d ever seen.

I had no idea Sunday morning’s spanking meant I wasn’t going to get orgasms for twenty four hours, but I suppose I should’ve.

I hate gag training.

And yet… I’ve seen the sweetbutts take a cock far, far down their throats like it’s nothing. You can see the cock swelling their throat as it goes down, and you can see it’s past their collarbone, and sometimes they aren’t allowed to breathe for a long time, but they don’t fight and twist and act like they’re about to die any second.

I wanted to learn how to do that.

Not that I’ve volunteered for extra training. So far it’s only happened when I’m restricted from having an orgasm.

And Sunday night, when I was beyond exhausted, he decided it was time for another session. He was horny, I wasn’t allowed an orgasm ’cause I’d had to be spanked, and that’s the way the cookie crumbles.

I hadn’t thought he’d spank me where everyone could hear. I know that refusing to do as he tells me on a rule I’ve agreed to follow means I’ll get it right away, and not later, and yet I’d done it anyway.

And I don’t get an orgasm for a minimum of twenty-four hours after a spanking. That’s the rule.

But on this night, the rule sucked.

“I’m not still all worked up from the spanking, Bubbles! And I’m so tired! It shouldn’t count today.”

Damn, I sounded whiny, but I wasn’t taking it back.

“You haven’t eaten in four hours. I’ll fry up some bacon and make grilled cheese when I finish with you, but I wanna get off first. On the sofa, Lex.”

I could do as told, or he’d put me where he wanted me, and if I made him do that he’d probably either zip tie me again, or add to it since I hadn’t used self-control. I walked to the sofa, got on my knees, and glared at him.

He lifted an eyebrow, clearly not happy with my attitude, but he didn’t say anything.

“I’m hot and sweaty, so I’ll jump in the shower. You should thank me for being considerate.”

“Thanks. Can I nap while I wait?”

“So long as I don’t have to tell you to get back in position, and you’re waiting with your mouth open when I approach — sure.”

I don’t think he was in the shower more than three or four minutes, but it gave me time to think. I’d deserved the spanking, and even though I thought he should let me skate the rules tonight — I was being whiny, and that wasn’t me.

When I heard his footsteps crossing the house, I got back into position and tried to look contrite.

“Glad to see having a little time to think helped your attitude.” He settled his cockhead into my mouth. “Get me wet. You know how this works.”

As soon as I’d tongued him until he was sloppy wet, he pushed to the back of my mouth. I tried my hardest to open my throat and accept him, but my body wasn’t having it.

I hate gagging on him, but I swear I can feel him growing harder when I do. I know he wants to be able to get deeper inside me, but I’m not sure he wants me to completely stop gagging. I could be wrong and I should probably ask him, but now wasn’t the time.

My eyes watered, my nose ran, my insides tried their best to eject him, and still, he pushed into my throat while his huge hand grasped the back of my head.

I kept my hands away as long as I could, but instincts finally had them pushing on his legs. I needed to breathe!

“Hands behind your back, Lex. Show me some self-control.”

I grabbed them behind my back and held on.

Another fifteen seconds, and he pulled out of my throat but not my mouth. I gasped for air and he gave me time to re-oxygenate, but then he was coming back in. “Thirty seconds. We’ve worked you up to this. Stop being so dramatic — you aren’t about to die.”

Okay, so maybe he did want me to be more like the sweetbutts. I mean, I heard them gag sometimes, especially when someone was fucking their face really hard — but slow like this, they usually kneeled in place and took it.

I tried my hardest. I sucked and swallowed, I tried to imagine him inside me and my body being chilled, but nothing worked. I gagged and retched, tears flowed from my eyes, and it was awful.

The worst part? My clit throbbed with need. I hadn’t been at all horny, and I had no fucking idea why this turned me on, but this always got me needier and hornier than fuck. Every damned cell in my body wanted him, but he’d get off and cram a plug up my butt, and I’d be needy until tomorrow night.

When he finally deemed the slow training was over and warned me he was gonna get rough, he told me to put my hands to the back of my head. I didn’t want to, but I followed orders, and liquid fire shot through my veins. Heat pooled in my clit and empty pussy when he settled his huge hands over the top of mine. He’d hold my head and hands together while he fucked my face. I was helpless. No way to stop him.

Terror shot through me. I couldn’t do this.

“Brussels sprouts.”

He didn’t let go of me, but he didn’t cram his cock into my mouth. “Punishment doesn’t usually come with safewords. What’s wrong?”

“I’m scared.”

“I know. I smell your fear, but it’ll be over in two or three minutes. Easiest way past it is through it. You know I’ll make sure you get enough oxygen. What are you afraid of?”

“I don’t know.”

“It seems to be over now. Better?”

I took another breath. The panic was gone. “Yeah.”

“So it’s okay for me to fuck your face now?” He sounded as if he were on his last ounce of patience, but I also heard a tiny bit of humor. We were okay.

“Yes. Sorry. Thanks for giving me a minute.”

His cock pressed into my mouth, down my throat, and the panic was back. In and out and in and out — fast and deep and I knew I was going to puke, but I couldn’t because his cock was blocking everything and I couldn’t eject it, and he kept fucking my face, my mouth, my throat. Tears streamed from my eyes, my body tried to escape, but he had me so I couldn’t get away — wedged to the back of the sofa, his hands holding mine and directing my face at the right angle, his thighs pumping, his belly in front of my eyes.

He occasionally pulled out far enough for me to breathe, but I had to time it just right.

When he finally pulled out of my mouth, he slid me sideways so I was on my back on the sofa, and he kneeled over me, his hand flying up and down his cock, his hips pressing himself into his hands, fucking his own fist.

Two minutes, and he ordered, “Open.”

I hated this part, too, but no way would I refuse. I opened my mouth, he put the head in, and fifteen seconds of hand job later, he was spurting into my mouth while his wolf somehow growled through the orgasm.

“Swallow.”

I did, and he slumped towards the back of the sofa a dozen breaths before standing and seeming to shake it off.

“Knees and chest on the table. I’ll be back.”

Waiting like that, exposed and open, when you’re so horny and needy you want to cry, is one of the worst parts of being punished. What had possessed me to try to get out of homework time? Even though I hadn’t thought he’d punish me so everyone would hear, I’d known it would happen. If he hadn’t spanked me that morning, I’d have gotten the belt and a face fucking tonight when we got home.

He returned with the plug but didn’t let me see which. When I turned to look, he said, “Eyes forward. Don’t test me right now, Lex.”

No, I didn’t want to test him.

He had one of our bigger plugs, and he made me take it without a warmup, so it took a while for him to get it in. I whined, squealed, and even begged him to warm me up, but he merely said, “Bad girls don’t get fingers or cocks in their fun holes.”

When it was in, he showed me a rope, and my heart sank. The contract said he could tie the plug in, at his discretion. He’d never done it before — how had he known I was planning to try to push it out once I thought he was asleep? Had my scent given it away?

Probably. I doubted there was a scent for that particular thought, but he could likely tell I wasn’t accepting it or something. It’s possible he could actually scent my defiance.

The rope was scratchy and itchy, and he ran it around my hips, knotted it above my butt crack, down between my cheeks and then between my damned pussy lips, and tied it to the part around my waist in front.

“I don’t like that. It’s against my clit!”

“I’m aware. Bad girls aren’t always comfortable. You can wipe yourself down with a washcloth, but your shower will have to wait until tomorrow. Unpack our suitcase while I cook.”

“Why are you being mean?” Damn, I sounded whiny again.

He lifted his brows and crossed his arms. “Why are you being bad?”

Tears filled my eyes and I looked at the floor, but his spread, bare feet reminded me he wanted an answer. I looked back up. “I need a hug. You feel so distant.”

He uncrossed his arms and opened them in invitation, and I flew into them. He held me, petted me, loved me. He still loved me.

“I’m sorry I was bad!” It came out with my tears and between sobs, and he rubbed my back, and finally lifted me in his arms and walked into the den to hold me. “Okay, Lexi. I’m here. It’s okay. What else is going on with you?”

Bubbles

---

She curled into me and buried her face into my chest, but I resisted the urge to pull her up so I could see into her eyes. She was still horny as fuck and I’d thought I was helping by sending her to unpack, but I’d obviously misjudged something.

“I love you, Half-pint. Consequences aren’t supposed to be fun. You know this. Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Her tears finally slowed and I sensed her about to fall asleep. Was she just that tired? Possibly.

“You need to eat before you go to sleep. Come to the kitchen and you can sit and watch me cook. You’ll feel better with some food in you. It’s only eight-thirty. Not even close to bedtime.”

She pulled her head up a little, but stayed snuggled in. “I can unpack. That way you can take everything to be washed tomorrow.”

I hadn’t bought a washer and dryer because I didn’t intend to waste time washing and drying clothes. I dropped them off dirty and picked them up clean. Piece of cake. I knew Lexi thought it was crazy, but it’d worked for me in Atlanta, and it worked for me here. I’d been assigned to the laundry at one of the prisons and I had no intentions of having a laundry in my home.

I kissed the top of her head. “Okay. Let me know if you feel the need for another emergency hug.”

She gave me a tiny little growl. “You were being distant and cold. Don’t act like that was all on me.”

“I’m sorry. I knew how horny you were and thought it’d be easier to send you off to work. I clearly misjudged the situation, and I’m glad you have enough fire in you to set me straight.” I stood her up in front of me and leaned forward so we were eye-to-eye. “Love you, even when you’re bad. Let’s get to work so we can get to bed. It looks like you might need an early bedtime tonight.”

She didn’t argue. The weekend had exhausted her.