Good Girl, a pitch fanfic

A/N: As I've said before, someone had to bring kink to this fandom and I'm the one to do it. But this isn't my fault. A fellow Bawson degenerate directed me to a clip of Mike/Mark in an old sex scene and I only watched it for research (it's important to keep the mind sharp with curiosity) and because idle hands are the devil's tools, I did this.

Ginny's apartment is quiet when Mike opens the unlocked door and he pauses in the doorway. There's no tv chatter, or running shower, not even her soft snore. He wonders where she is. "Baker, where are you?"

He pauses, waits for an answer, and frowns when he doesn't get one. She wouldn't have left knowing he was coming over, and she definitely wouldn't have left with the door unlocked. He calls her name again, and again, silence follows. A smile curls his lips when he realizes she's hiding from him. He steps fully into the living room and shuts the door. "So you're hiding from me? That's okay. Good, even. You know I always like to have a reason, Ginny."

Tucked away in the linen closet in her bathroom, Ginny can only hear Mike's footsteps, but that sound alone raises goosebumps everywhere. She knows she's playing with fire, hiding from him, not answering when he calls her name. But she knows the ends will definitely justify the means. So far, she'd only been punished three times since Mike made it his mission to make her a "good girl" but even those punishments had been mollified with kisses to her spanked flesh. And afterwards, when she'd teased him about being a softie, he'd promised not to be so lenient the next time. Now she'd see if he meant it.

She stretches out her legs in the confined space, prepares for a long wait. Mike has a few places he'd search for her before he even thinks of the linen closet. And even if he thinks of it first, he won't think her long limbs would fit into the deceptively spacious closet.

Mike looks under her bed and in her clothes closet, frowning when he finds them both empty. Ginny's apartment is large, but open in a way that shouldn't lend itself to hiding. Where she has concealed her lithe frame, he doesn't know, but he's confident it wouldn't take him long to find out. He goes to the kitchen, checks her pantry and bottom cabinets, finding them empty of his mischievous rookie. He even checks the upper cabinets, just in case. No Ginny. She isn't in the second bedroom that she used for her art studio (she'd taken up painting at her therapist's suggestion and the hobby stuck even after she stopped seeing the doctor), and the only thing he finds in the closet are spare canvases. He frowns as he leaves, wondering where his apparently very clever girl has gone. He goes into her bathroom, pulls back the shower curtain with a flourish though he figures she's too smart to hide so openly.

Ginny's nearly vibrating with excitement as she listens to Mike pace the small room. She knows he's stumped, that the closet hasn't even come to mind. He asks himself, "Where the fuck is she?"

He leaves the bathroom and she listens to him walk to her bedroom. A moment later, her phone lights up with a text. "Where are you, little girl?"

She replies: In my apartment

He sends back: So you're being a bad girl and hiding from your daddy?

Ginny: We never agreed on daddy [devil emoji]

Mike: Sir works just fine

Ginny: Never agreed on that either

Mike: Every smart comment earns another lick

Ginny: blah blah blah

Mike: You are so gonna get it

Ginny: Assuming you find me, old man

He doesn't reply and Ginny's still frowning at her phone when the closet door wrenches open. Mike smiles darkly at her as she unfolds herself before him. "Silly girl, I can hear your phone vibrating."

Ginny laughs as he helps her to her feet. "I still did a good job hiding from you."

Mike nods as he picks her up, throws her over his shoulder. His back objects per usual until he drops her onto her bed. "Well now I'm gonna do a good job of punishing you."

He almost laughs at how quickly she changes her expression, suddenly all doe eyes and faux innocence. "I was only playing."

He leans over on the bed, resting his weight on his hand so his face is inches from hers. "Am I a toy, little girl?"

Ginny shakes her head, curls bouncing, and Mike nods. "That's what I thought. Now remind me how bad girls become good girls?"

"Patience and punishment."

"And I think I used all my patience looking for you. So what does that leave?"

"Punishment." Her answer comes without hesitation, and excitement twinkles in her eyes, and Mike realizes he's played into her tempting little hand again, given her exactly what she wants without even realizing it. He'd assumed she just wanted to play her little game and would use her brown-eyed wiles to wiggle out of her punishment, but he was beginning to see that Ginny Baker liked her discipline. A believer in a firm hand, he concludes he has no choice but to give her what she's asking for.

He steps back and she quickly hops off the bed, headed for the chaise lounge at its foot. He watches as she slips off her nightgown, a scrap of dark blue silk that he bought her on a whim in New York, leaving it pooled around her feet, and stands before him in her panties, a little gray thong with lace trim. She looks at him expectantly and he nods, signaling that she should assume the position.

Ginny climbs onto the chaise, resting her elbows on the bed. The sofa sticks out in her dorm-y apartment, and Evelyn had given her a questioning look when they'd gone to pick it up from the furniture store but Ginny hadn't offered an explanation beyond that she thought they were cool. She couldn't tell her friend it was her "naughty stool," the place where she received all her punishments from Mike. She arches her back, watching as Mike walks around to stand behind her.

"Since you were bad, and a smart mouth, I really should use the riding crop." She's only marginally fond of the riding crop. Above all, she prefers his calloused hand if for no other reason than the hand prints he leaves behind. But she's not opposed to his belt or the surprisingly smarting wooden ruler. (Mike's a huge fan of the ruler, and the plaid skirt he bought to go along with it.) "But you were a cry baby last time, so I'll spare you. I think some old-fashioned discipline will do just fine."

She almost shivers at the sound of him undoing his belt, but remains obediently still even when he runs the cool leather over her exposed ass. He snaps her thong, chuckles. "Why won't you be a good girl? Don't you like it when I'm nice?"

She nods, wishes she had an answer. Nice Mike delights her with his tenderness, but there's something to his disciplinarian side that she'll choose every time. "So how many licks do you think you earned with your little stunt?"

"Ten," she answers immediately. Five isn't arousing enough. Fifteen leaves her too sore. Ten is the magic discipline number in their house.

She looks back at him for approval and he smiles as he nods. "Good girl."

Mike folds the belt, rubs it on his jeans to heat up the leather so it stings. In the beginning, when they were just fooling around, he didn't think Ginny would become the sub she is. Handcuffs and blindfolds quickly bored her. He accompanied her on her explorations, bought her The Story of O and Belle De Jour, steered her away from Fifty Shades of Gray because he wanted to excite her, not ruin her fucking life. Little brown boxes (a vibrator, a butt plug, a riding crop, silk binding ties, and a ball gag) began arriving after each exploration and each time he got to her apartment, she was waiting with eager eyes to show him her latest purchase.

She never moves even an inch, waiting obediently for her punishment. He'd have never thought his little shit of a rookie could be so pliant (and she still isn't on the field), but something about the sub lifestyle apparently suits her. The first strike of the belt makes her inhale sharply, but she sounds off without provocation. "One!"

Mike smiles, rubs the already red flesh then strikes it again. Again, she sounds off immediately. "Two!"

Ginny's mind hazes with each strike. She can barely keep count but she does, her eyes watering with each slap to her stinging flesh. By the time they reach 8, she's ready to crawl out of her skin, and ready to give Mike's ancient bones the jump of their life. Luckily, the last two shots are quick and she can let her thighs quiver. She slips her hand between her legs, spreads her slick lips to reach her clit. She hums with pleasure, wriggling on the couch, listening to Mike shed his clothes. The couch shifts with his added weight and he reaches underneath her, rolls her nipples between his fingers until she's moaning. He asks, "Did I say you could do that?"

She shakes her head but her fingers don't stop until Mike moves her hand away, replaces it with his own. "You don't listen."

She nods with some difficulty because Mike has her hair wrapped around his hand. "I don't listen."

"Need someone to make you?"

She nods again, hisses when he gives her ass another smack.

Mike doesn't really have the knees for it anymore, but this position is Ginny's favorite. He takes hold of her right hip, lets go of her hair so he can line himself up. Ginny quivers and he smiles, teases her blisteringly hot center. Ginny whines, tries to push back against him. Mike gives her another slap. "Behave."

Ginny whines again, continues to wiggle around, and Mike grabs her hair. "So impatient. Should I give you what you want?"

She nods and Mike decides to stop teasing, mostly because he can't take it anymore either. Ginny's arms stretch out in front of her, changing the angle of his entrance and he's embedded to the hilt in seconds. Between her heat and her pulsing walls, he has to pause before he moves again so he doesn't explode. Ginny moans, seemingly unaware, and starts gently rocking her hips. And he can feel her fingertips brushing him as she plays with her clit. Mike kneads her pliant flesh, entranced by the sight of them coming together. "That's it. Fuck yourself with my cock."

Ginny's not sure what's more exciting, the way Mike's moaning or his firm commands. She pushes back against him, urged on by him flicking her clit.

He bites her shoulder, pounds her harder and Ginny's moans rise in volume. She's so close, wound so tight that all she can do is snap. Mike licks her neck, bites her earlobe. "Rub your clit. Make yourself cum."

She doesn't have to be told twice, rubs her clit so fast she could start a fire with the friction. "Mikemikemikemikemike!"

Her climax is nothing short of an explosion, shaking her body so hard that she's surprised they don't fall off the couch.

Mike smiles at the way she slumps over, her hips still lazily responding to his movements. He gathers her hair, pulls her up against him so he can cup her breasts. Looking down at her slim golden frame—breasts perfectly sized for his hands, a smooth expanse of stomach, her glistening center stretched around him—Mike reconsiders his stance that they should never record themselves. Especially looking at her face, her eyes closed and her mouth open in ecstasy. Honestly, she's made for the camera. Or at the very least, the large mirror he had hung above her headboard.

"Look at yourself," he growls against her neck, trailing bites along its length. He tweaks her nipples, pleased when she lets out a hiss. Her eyes flutter open and she sets them dreamily on the mirror. He plays with her clit, watches her shiver in his arms. "I think you can cum again. Can't you?"

"Yes," she hisses, writhing against him. Her voice is needy and high-pitched, a sound he only gets when he's brought her to the delicious brink of sanity. "Mike...Mike...Mike..."

"Stop it," Mike hisses, leaning over to cover her body with his and take control of their motions. "You know what you get when you beg."

She does and he knows it's why she's begging. His hips go crazy, losing their rhythm completely because all he's focused on is burying himself deeper in her rippling warmth. He tightens his grip on her hips, groans at the keening cries leaving her mouth. He sucks on her neck, tells her to pinch her nipples until her head falls back on his shoulder, the rest of her frozen. This climax isn't as explosive as the first but it's enough to pull him into the blackness with her. His hips piston, rolling like he's twenty-something again, and he curses against her neck, bites her hard enough to leave a mark. "Mike—daddy—fuck!

He grins, smacks her ass. "Ask for what you want. Can't give what you don't ask for."

"Fuck me harder!"

His hips jump ahead of his brain in response, ramming into hers with an almost deafening smack. He pulls her hair, deepens the arch in her back and smacks her ass, leaning over to sink his teeth into her shoulder as his vision blurs.

His orgasm sets off another ripple inside her, makes her fall forward and bring him along. His hips quickly reclaim their rhythm, moving inside her deep and slow because this is her favorite part. The afterglow. She murmurs the sweetest capitulation, her body still trembling, so quiet he almost doesn't hear it. "Oh baby...daddy."

He kisses her temple, smiling smugly. "I thought we hadn't agreed on that."

She laughs, not yet opening her eyes. "Why can't you be good? Don't you like it when I'm nice?"

Mike laughs too, bites her earlobe. He pulls her leg back over his, smiling when she moans. He kisses the curve of her jaw. "You are a dirty, dirty girl."

Ginny would never admit to it, but she loves when Mike cums inside her. She got on the progesterone shot just to fulfill this particular kink. Besides, there's something about lying with Mike, both of them sated and boneless, his voice gravelly in her ear as he teases her. She looks back at him with a smile. "It's not like you don't like it too."

He laughs. "Of course I like my cum. It's my cum. That doesn't have anything to do with you liking it."

She laughs, feeling shy. "I can't explain it. That's like asking me why I like to be spanked. It's just nice."

"Mittens are nice, Baker. You're just kinky."

"You love that too."

Mike had dabbled in the lifestyle, played a few games of control with Rachel, but it didn't work. She couldn't let go so he couldn't take charge. Their encounters were unfulfilling to say the least.

But somehow Ginny masters it naturally. She knows exactly what she wants and how to ask for it. And Mike finds himself beyond willing to oblige. It's even eased their tension on the field. She hardly ever calls him off anymore, content to let him make the play.

He runs his fingers through her hair. "I do. But now you need a bath, dirty girl."

He carries her to the bathroom, her long limbs wrapped around him as she pouted. He kisses her protruding bottom lip. "What do you want now, spoiled girl?"

It's a sickness, really. Spoiling Ginny Baker has nearly become a kink in and of itself. He'll buy any trinket to make her smile, and has spent quite a bit of money doing it. And Ginny knew it. He'll complain to be contrary, but all she needs to do is bat those eyes and say please and he's putty in those delicate but powerful hands. "We should make a movie."

His eyebrows raise, surprised Ginny had inadvertently come to the same conclusion as him. "What kind of movie?"

She shrugs. "I just think it would be sexy to do it in front of the camera, like someone's watching."

Mike smiles. "I think you'd be sexy on camera, putting on a show for me."

She giggles as he sets her on the edge of her sunken tub then turns on the water. "Can I get a new outfit for it?"

He'd have never expected it, but his tomboyish teammate had quite the penchant for lingerie. She'd recently cost him $800 in La Perla that he didn't regret even a little. And he had a rather shameful penchant for costumes for his rookie. (A schoolgirl, a cheerleader, a mousy librarian hiding a sexy secret, even a cat...) He couldn't explain the pleasure he got from dressing her up then getting her naked. He smiled. "I suppose. What kind of outfit?"

She shrugs and he thinks for a minute. "I think you'd be cute in a maid's outfit. Maybe you're having a little fun while I'm out and I catch you."

She laughs, sinks into the tub and brings her knees to her chest so he can climb in behind her. Mike washes her back, then her hair, combing his fingers through her curls. "What do you want for dinner?"

"I get to choose? Well aren't I lucky?"

He bites her shoulder. "Do you want another spanking for being a smart mouth?"

She smiles, shakes her head. "No sir."

Mike kisses her chin, laughs at how easily she turns it on. "You're full of it. You know that?"

She giggles, nods. "I want breakfast."

"Of course you do." He kisses the back of her head and Ginny wiggles around in the tub until she's facing him. She soaps his chest then lays against him, smiling against his mouth. He kisses her lips, pulls on her bottom lip until she laughs. "Do you wanna go out or order in?"

"Let's go out."

They bathe and get out of the tub. Mike dresses, watching as Ginny digs through drawers until she finds a pair of leggings. His eyebrows quirk as he watches her bare ass disappear. "Taking a walk on the wild side, aren't you, Baker?"

She pulls long-sleeved practice shirt, and Mike smirks at his number on the back (undoubtedly something she'd stolen from him). She smiles shyly at him over her shoulder. "It's something I've been trying for a few days. It just feels good."

Mike tries to recall the last few days, how many times he talked to her on the phone, unfortunately unaware that she wasn't wearing any panties. He wonders if its spilled over into her athletic life, if she was commando the previous morning during their workout. And a little jealousy sparks when he remembers Duarte straightening out her hips in the cages (Surely she wouldn't). But in case she had, Mike gives her ass a resounding smack as they leave, makes her squeal.

Ginny doesn't realize how bad a decision she's made until her face is buried in Mike's neck and she's chewing on the collar of his hoodie to keep from screaming because he's three fingers deep inside her in the nearly deserted diner. She bites out, "Mike!"

He looks at her serenely. "Something the matter?"

"You've gotta stop!"

"Don't know what you're talking about." He curls his fingers inside her, thumbs her clit.

"I'm gonna—" She can feel it bubbling up inside her, knows she isn't going to finish quietly.

Mike picks up the menu again, studying it intently. Looking at his calm face, Ginny's not sure if she wants to jump him or punch him. "I think I'm gonna get some French toast for later."

She kisses him too hard, bites his lip to spite him, rides out the hurricane of a climax by making him swallow her moans. Mike cups her face, leans her back in the booth until her back touches the wall, keeps her still as best he can. When she finally lets him go, she sighs and lays her head on his shoulder, reaching up to caress his bitten lip. "You're the worst. You know that?"

Mike grins, kisses her sweaty forehead. The waitress, an older woman with glasses so thick that her eyes are twice their size, sets a bag before them. Her face is expressionless except for a glimmer of a smirk on her thin lips. "I figured y'all might need this to go."

Ginny blushes as she sits up, musters a crooked smile. "Thank you."

Mike grins. "We really appreciate it."

She quirks her eyebrows at them then walks away and Mike puts money on the table. He pulls his hand out of her pants, licks his fingers clean then slides out of the booth. Ginny follows on shaky legs and Mike smiles. Bastard. "Need a hand, Gin?"

"Fuck you," she rasps as she waddles to the front door.

A/N: Don't forget to review or leave a prompt! XOXOXOXO