The Promise, coming in 2018…
“I said I was sorry!” the little brat who had made his life a living hell yelled while he stood there, glaring at the locked pantry door as his hands twitched with the need to finally give her the spanking that she should have gotten a long time ago.
“No, you didn’t,” he bit out evenly through clenched teeth as the memory of everything the little brat put him through nearly knocked him on his ass.
“Well,” she said, pausing to clear her throat, “it was implied.”
“No, it wasn’t,” he said, narrowing his eyes on the door.
“I tried, but Brian felt that it was for the best if I gave you some space until you were able to get your homicidal urges under control.”
“Then you came back too soon,”he bit out, looking around the kitchen for something to take that damn door down with.
“Oh, come on! You can’t still be mad!”
“Think again,” he said as he considered grabbing that baseball bat so he could bash the door in and spank her ass raw.
“If it makes you feel any better, I sent the frat house that posted that video a strongly worded email,” she said, sounding hopeful.
“It doesn’t,” he said as he rubbed his hands roughly down his face as he stared at the door, debating his next move and wondering if getting revenge after twelve years was worth losing his job, going to prison and having to worry about dropping the soap for the rest of his life. Totally worth the risk, he decided as he grabbed hold of the doorknob and slammed his shoulder against the door.
“Wait. What are you doing?” came the hesitant question
“Maybe we should talk about this?
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Oh, my god, I’m sorry!” the little demon screamed when the door finally gave way with a satisfying crack.
Shoving the broken door aside, he stepped inside the pantry and took in the small muddy mess plastering herself against the shelves, noting the scrawny little brat that had been nothing more than knobby knees, pointy elbows, and ink stained fingers was gone and in her place was this small frumpy woman, who barely came up to his shoulder, an overabundance of curves that put her on the plump side, messy, mud-caked hair, crystal blue eyes, and plump pink lips that were working soundlessly as she struggled to come up with some bullshit excuse to get her out of the spanking that she deserved. Deciding that he’d waited long enough, he grabbed the little brat and dragged her out of the pantry and headed for the old kitchen table where he’d learned how to read and write, pulled out a chair, sat down and-
“Wait! We can talk about this!”
-yanked the little brat down across his lap, raised his hand and-
“You promised!” she shouted somewhat hysterically as she tried to wiggle her way free as her words slammed into him and when they did, he shoved her off his lap with a curse.