“I’m gonna teach you a fuckin’ lesson in manners,” Mickey hissed, spanking Roger again. “You’re being really fuckin’ rude right now, and I ain’t havin’ it.”
Roger hissed out a sharp breath between his teeth, and he dropped his head down on the bartop. “Ah, fuck.”
Mickey’s arm was throbbing where he’d been shot, and the rhythm grew as his excitement surged. He was consumed with the urgent need to punish Roger, and he didn’t give a fuck who saw him.
He reached around Roger’s side, deftly unbuttoning his jeans and yanking them down in the back to expose his naked ass. His skin was absolutely pristine, unmarked, and Mickey could not wait to spank him right here in front of everyone.
“Of course you’re not wearing anything else.” Mickey scoffed. “You little slut.”
“Stop!” Roger was absolutely writhing, still trying to break away. “Mickey, don’t do this! Not here! Please, not like this!”
“What’s wrong, Roger?” Mickey taunted. “You don’t want everybody to see what a slut you are?” He leaned in close. “Trust me, I think they already know.”
“Fuck you, Mickey,” Roger whined.
Mickey rubbed Roger’s exposed ass, enjoying how cool and smooth his skin was. He was going to fix that soon enough, and he hoped Roger was totally humiliated. He wanted a lesson that was going to stick inside that beautiful thick skull, and he raised his hand up.
“God, you’re such a—ah! Bastard!” He cried out when Mickey struck bare skin. “Fuck!”
“You owe me a fuckin’ sincere apology,” Mickey snapped, grabbing a handful of Roger’s ass where he’d smacked him, heat blossoming beneath his fingers. “Right now.”
The whole bar was watching them, and Mickey couldn’t explain the new thrill coursing through him. Alistair was hovering by the door of the office and couldn’t look away, and Mickey liked it. He liked knowing everyone was watching him put Roger in his place.
“I’m sorry…” Roger groaned, arching his hips up. “I’m so sorry… for never replacing the toilet paper when it’s out. The empty roll on the holder? That’s me. That’s totally me.”
Mickey spanked him again, switching to the other cheek and listening to him cry out with great satisfaction. Roger’s perfect ass was now lit up with brilliant handprints, and Mickey much preferred it this way.
“Wanna try again, smartass?”
“I’m sorry for… mmm… I’m sorry for eating the last Twinkie… and not throwing away the box.”
Mickey popped him.
“Fuck! Mmm. I’m sorry for parking and, and taking up two spaces!”
Mickey spanked him again, his pulse skyrocketing from how Roger moaned and bucked in reply. He had to be hard, Mickey knew it, and he dipped his hand down to grab at Roger’s cock still trapped in his pants.
Oh, hard. Very hard.
Mickey leaned in close to whisper in Roger’s ear, “I should pull your dick out right here, let them all see what a little whore you are for this shit.”
“Mmm… no…” Roger shook his head. “You fuckin’ wouldn’t!”
“You don’t ever get to tell me what I would or would not fuckin’ do.” Mickey palmed Roger’s cock and smacked his hand across the shaft through his pants.
Roger moaned, his back arching instantly. “Oh, fuck! Mickey! No, no, don’t do that! I’ll be good, I promise!”
“The fuck you will.” Mickey spanked Roger’s cock again, daring to use more force.
“Ohhh, fuck! Mickey!” Roger slapped the top of the bar with his free hand, and his shoulders shook. “Mm, fuck!”
Mickey’s cock was getting hard just from listening to how Roger moaned for him. He felt powerful, and he could hear their audience cheering him on now.
“Give it to him good!” one of the men shouted.
“Just like the old days,” another said with a wistful sigh.
Mickey spared a moment to briefly ponder how wild Slick Rick’s must have been in its heyday, but he quickly refocused his attention on Roger. “See? They all know you’ve been bad too. They know you have to be punished.”
