"I gave you a chance for that, Mikey. More than enough. I wasn't going to let you go, but I thought maybe...you'd do okay. And you come back laying this mess at my feet. Simple promises aren't going to cut it. What you need is--"
Liam raised his hand to strike again. But just as his hand started to swing down, he stopped. He let go of Mike's hair. He lowered his arm. "No. You need something....more. Something that will leave an impression." He wasn't speaking metaphorically.
Without giving any sort of command, Liam let go of Mike and moved away from the bed. He'd left plenty of marks on Mike before. Bruises, welts, rope burns. The sorts of things that would leave all manner of scars. But he'd never done this. There was just something satisfying about a proper, solid ass whooping. "It's just a question of which way to go..." he muttered to himself, hand on his chin, as he inspected the closet. Taking his sweet time.
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Liam raised his hand to strike again. But just as his hand started to swing down, he stopped. He let go of Mike's hair. He lowered his arm. "No. You need something....more. Something that will leave an impression." He wasn't speaking metaphorically.
Without giving any sort of command, Liam let go of Mike and moved away from the bed. He'd left plenty of marks on Mike before. Bruises, welts, rope burns. The sorts of things that would leave all manner of scars. But he'd never done this. There was just something satisfying about a proper, solid ass whooping. "It's just a question of which way to go..." he muttered to himself, hand on his chin, as he inspected the closet. Taking his sweet time.